Jack the Ripper My conclusion By Moiself Trina811

   "Jack the Ripper" is the best-known name given to an unidentified serial killer who was active in  and around the Whitechapel district of London in 1888, Bringing about the Appropriately named Autumn of terror which true symbol of just how brutal the murders where and how far the Fear he instilled travelled throughout london and the world today, he has also bee referred to as "The Whitechapel Murderer" and "Leather Apron" but the Ripper was the name that captured the Publics imagination and chilled them to the bone.       

    Attacks ascribed to the Ripper typically involved female prostitutes from the slums whose throats were cut prior to abdominal mutilations. The removal of internal organs from at least three of the victims led to proposals that their killer possessed anatomical or surgical knowledge. which can lead to some interesting suspects aswell as some more Extrovagent but Farcical accusees including Prince Albert

  It is unclear just how many women the Ripper killed. It is generally accepted that he killed five, though some have written that he murdered only four while others say seven or more. But here all the Evidence from Various sources and fellow Ripperologists will be laid before you to Decipher yourself aswell as my Own deductions on what transpired and by whom

In the mid-19th century, England experienced an influx of Irish immigrants, who swelled the populations of England's major cities, including the East End of London. From 1882, Jewish refugees from Eastern Europe and Tsarist Russia moved into the same area.^[1] The civil parish of Whitechapel in London's East End became increasingly overcrowded. Work and housing conditions worsened, and a significant economic underclass developed.^[2] Robbery, violence and alcohol dependency were commonplace, and the endemic poverty drove many women to prostitution. In October 1888, London's Metropolitan Police Service estimated that there were 1200 prostitutes and about 62 brothels in Whitechapel.^[3] The economic problems were accompanied by a steady rise in social tensions. Between 1886 and 1889, frequent demonstrations, such as that of 13 November 1887, led to police intervention and further public unrest.  Racism, crime, social disturbance, and real deprivation fed public perceptions that Whitechapel was a notorious den of immorality.  In 1888, such perceptions were strengthened when a series of vicious and grotesque murders attributed to "Jack the Ripper" received unprecedented coverage in the media

 

The large number of attacks against women in the East End during this era adds uncertainty to how many victims were killed by the same person. Eleven separate murders, stretching from 3 April 1888 to 13 February 1891, were included in a London Metropolitan Police Service investigation, and were known collectively in the police docket as the "Whitechapel murders". Opinions vary as to whether these murders should be linked to the same culprit or not, but five of the eleven Whitechapel murders, known as the "canonical five", are widely believed to be the work of the Ripper.   Most experts point to deep throat slashes, abdominal and genital-area mutilation, removal of internal organs, and progressive facial mutilations as the distinctive features of Jack the Ripper's modus operandi.  The first two cases in the Whitechapel murders file, those of Emma Elizabeth Smith and Martha Tabram, are not included in the canonical five.

Smith was robbed and sexually assaulted on Osborn Street, Whitechapel, on 3 April 1888. A blunt object was inserted into her vagina, which ruptured her peritoneum. She developed peritonitis, and died the following day at London Hospital.^[13] She said that she had been attacked by two or three men, one of whom was a teenager.^[14] The attack was linked to the later murders by the press,^[15] but most authors conclude that it was gang violence unrelated to the Ripper case.^[8][16][17]

Tabram was killed on 7 August 1888; she had suffered 39 stab wounds. The savagery of the murder, the lack of obvious motive, and the closeness of the location (George Yard, Whitechapel) and date to those of the later Ripper murders led police to link them.  However, the attack differs from the canonical ones in that Tabram was stabbed rather than slashed at the throat and abdomen. Many experts today do not connect it with the later murders because of the difference in the wound pattern

 

The red dots indicate the Position the Women were found (ofen Horrifically Mutialted) though there is Much Debate as to how many of theese Victims were the Work of the Infamous Ripper or wether some of the murders were fuelled another killer with different motives

 

 

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  I will Now add the two suspects I have whittled it down too after reading up on these ghastly murders of women.

 

My Suspects i presume who made these murders I believe that there was a possibility there were two at work at the same time. They were not known to each other from what i have found out.

CARL FERDINAND FEIGENBAUM: An Old Suspect Resurfaces

By Wolf Vanderlinden

     Murderer Carl Ferdinand Feigenbaum spent his last night on earth in prayer with Father Creeden, Sing Sing Penitentiary’s resident Priest, and Father Bruder, of the Poughkeepsie Catholic church where he was to be buried. He received the last rites just before breakfast, then made out his will in which he directed that his property in Cincinnati, reportedly a house and a lot, be sold and that the proceeds, along with money in a German bank in New York, be given to his sister Magdalena Strohband, a widow, living in “Ganbickelheim, Alzel, Hesse-Darmstadt, Germany,”¹ with the exception of $90 to be used for his funeral expenses. Warden Omar Van Leuven Sage was made the executor.

     At 11:10 on the morning of Monday the 27^th of April, 1896, Feigenbaum was told that his time had come. Walking with the two Reverend Fathers he was taken from his cell and led to the death chamber. Before sitting on the uncomfortable wooden chair he kissed the crucifix he carried and handed it to Father Bruder. He sat without any urging and took off his glasses and handed them to Bruder, asking that they be buried with him. While the straps were being fastened he kissed Warden Sage’s hand and shook the hands of  Fathers Creeden and Bruder as well as the hand of the man who was there to kill him, State Electrician Davis.

     The prisoner was quickly belted into the chair, the electrodes attached to the base of his brain and the calf of his right leg, and, after Dr. R.T. Irvine, the prison physician, gave the okay, the Warden signalled to Davisto turn on the current.

     The first shock of 1,820 volts was given at 11:16 and lasted for thirty seconds before being gradually reduced to 300 volts, a level which was held for 40 seconds. The current was then turned off for a few seconds before a second shock of 1,820 volts was administered at 11:17:45 and held till 11:18.

     Drs. Irvine and John Wilson Gibbs, who had held the watch timing the length at which the voltage was applied, examined the body and pronounced Feigenbaum dead at 11:18:30.

     It was reported in at least one newspaper ² that the two then invited the other physicians, who were there to observe the execution, to come forward and examine the body in order to obtain a consensual medical opinion that the prisoner was indeed dead, this after what was considered some horrifically botched executions using the still fairly new method of electrocution. After several minutes of examination, the paper stated, one or two of the doctors expressed the thought that although the man was not alive perhaps he wasn’t quite dead. To satisfy this punctilious minority the current was supposed to have been turned on again at 21:25 for a space of three seconds at full voltage. After this, Carl Feigenbaum was pronounced well and truly dead.

     This might have been an end to the matter and the name Carl Feigenbaum lost to history except that as Feigenbaum’s body was being wheeled into the Sing Sing Death House’s autopsy room, his lawyer, William Sanford Lawton, gave an interview with a reporter from the New York Advertiser in which he stated that it was his belief that his ex-client was actually the notorious London murderer Jack the Ripper.

     The Advertiser knew that it was on to a good thing and sent a press release out on the wire hyping the coming interview. This announcement caused a brief sensation which was reported in newspapers all overNorth America. However, as the world moved on to other concerns, the story quickly died and was largely forgotten.

     Now, however, with the release of the paperback issue of Trevor Marriott’s book Jack the Ripper The 21^stCentury Investigation ³, William Sanford Lawton has a supporter in his belief that Carl Feigenbaum was actually the nameless killer who stalked the streets of Whitechapel in the Autumn of 1888.

     Who was Carl Feigenbaum? Why did his own lawyer believe his client to be a vicious serial killer? What evidence has convinced Marriott that he has found the truth behind the greatest murder mystery of all time? Was Carl Ferdinand Feigenbaum actually Jack the Ripper?

     Let’s take a closer look and see if we can answer some of these questions.

Carl Ferdinand Feigenbaum

 

     “I always considered him a cunning fellow, surrounded by a great deal of mystery, and his life history was never found out.” ⁴ 

     This revealing admission by Vernon M. Davis, the Assistant District Attorney who prosecuted Feigenbaum, goes right to the heart of the matter: not much is known about Feigenbaum’s life and antecedents and there are discrepancies with what little we do know.

     To begin with his name wasn’t Carl Feigenbaum but, apparently, Anton (or Carl or Karl) Zahn (possibly Zahm or, according to Marriott, possibly Strohband). Why he changed it to Feigenbaum is unclear although he appears to have had numerous aliases and seems to have changed his name frequently ⁵.    

     His 1894 admission form to Sing Sing Prison describes him as 54 years of age, 5 feet 4 inches in height, 126 pounds in weight with a medium complexion, dark brown hair (thin on top), small grey deep set eyes, a high and heavily arched forehead and a large red nose with pimples. Although it isn’t mentioned in the form Feigenbaum had a mustache in drawings of him made during his trial and one report stated that he had at times sported a beard. Beyond the official prison “check list” of characteristics, he was described by one newspaper as “a little, wrinkled old fellow, shabbily dressed.” ⁶     

     He was born around the year 1840, possibly in Karlsruhe, Southern Germany, near the French border ⁷. This was, at least, one of his claims. Marriott points out that a witness at Feigenbaum’s trial stated that Feigenbaum had said that he had been born instead in Capitolheim, Germany, although Marriott can find no mention of any town with this name.

     Feigenbaum also said that he had two sisters, one a widow – Magdalena Strohband,  and a brother living in Germany. He would later state that he had a brother named John, who may or may not have been the brother in Germany, who was living in Brooklyn, New York. This, at least, appears to be true and Feigenbaum’s brother visited him in prison on the night before his execution before speaking briefly to the press.

     He may or may not have been married, telling different people different things at different times, and he may or may not have had children.

     He was a sailor for some unknown part of his life, perhaps all of it. His lawyer, Lawton, stated “he had been working for many years as fireman on the Atlantic liners, sometimes on the Bremen, sometimes on the White Star, and at others on the French and Inman lines.” ⁸  Feigenbaum’s brother also told the press that in May, 1891, his brother shipped on a “Bremen boat” and remained as part of the crew until early 1892 at which time he gave up the sea. Whether this was the date when Feigenbaum started his new life in America or not is unclear.

     Lawton stated “He ceased to follow the sea about six years ago.” ⁹ i.e. around 1890. Officially, however, it seems that Feigenbaum was thought to have come to the U.S. in 1891; at least this is what the judge in the appellate court stated, based on information presumably gathered by the police and prosecution. Assuming, however, that Feigenbaum’s brother wasn’t lying in order to protect him, the rough date of “early 1892” would have to be given some credence. In addition, as there seems to be no record of Feigenbaum, or Zahn, having landed legally in the United States, it is likely that he simply walked off his ship in the U.S., possibly in the Port of New York, and stayed.

     What Carl Feigenbaum was actually doing in the US between his arrival in the early 1890’s and the murder of Mrs. Juliana Hoffman on the 1^st of September, 1894, is unclear. While under arrest he said that he was a gardener, and claimed that this had been his job back in Germany, although this does not appear to be true. Also, his admission sheet for Sing Sing Prison lists his occupation as “Florist.” Moreover, he told Mrs. Hoffman that he had just lost his job as a gardener on Long Island but had found a job as a florist inNew York, although this was a lie. He appears, however, to have worked in this field on an itinerant basis as he traveled around theUnited States. His brother seems to confirm this stating “I saw and knew so little of him, that I do not know where he went in the last few years. I know he was in Illinois and Wisconsin, but I don’t know – in fact, after he took to gardening, he was all over the West, and traveled a great deal.” ¹⁰ Feigenbaum’s movements only become clearer around the time he murdered Mrs. Hoffman in the early morning of Saturday, 1 September, 1894.

The Murder of Mrs. Juliana Hoffman.

     Mrs. Hoffman, a 56 year old widow, lived with her son Michael, aged 16, in two “miserable” rooms – a front room which overlooked the street and a back room which overlooked a yard – above a store at 544 East Sixth Street. The two came to the United States fromBudapest, Hungary, about the year 1892 and were living precariously off what little money Michael’s wages provided. Desperately poor, mother and son decided to earn a little extra money by renting out their back room, furnished, to a boarder and so a small sign which advertised this fact was placed in one of their two front windows. Mrs. Hoffman’s first lodger, unfortunately, turned out to be Carl Feigenbaum. He would also be her last lodger.

     Feigenbaum, who was supposed to have lost his gardening job on Long Island in late July or early August of 1894, said that he had tramped through the country side doing odd jobs and, upon arriving in New York City, was sleeping rough on the benches in Tompkins Square Park, only a block from the Hoffman’s apartment. On Wednesday, 29^th of August, he answered the Hoffman’s sign advertising a room for rent. Although he had no money he told the Hoffmans that he had been promised a new job at a florist’s shop and that he would be able to pay them his rent – a dollar a week plus 8 cents for breakfast each day – as soon as he was paid on Saturday, the 1^st of September. Mrs. Hoffman trusted the out of work German gardener and allowed him to stay.

     On the evening of Friday, 31^st of August, the Hoffmans and Feigenbaum were in the front room of the tiny apartment when Mrs. Hoffman left to go and buy some bread for supper. Before leaving she went to a closet to get a small change purse which she kept there and when she returned she replaced the purse in the unlocked closet. At around 10 o’clock Feigenbaum went into his room for the night and soon after the Hoffman also retired, Mrs. Hoffman sleeping on a lounge near one of the two front windows and her son on a couch at the foot of, and at right angles to, her bed. 

     Sometime soon after midnight Michael Hoffman was awakened by a scream. Looking over he saw his mother partly raised out of her bed while Feigenbaum stood over her with a long carving knife in his hand. The young boy first kicked at the intruder and then sprang from his bed and attacked Feigenbaum from behind. Feigenbaum, however, merely turned his attention towards the boy and came at him with the knife. Seeing that he was powerless against the armed lodger Hoffman was only able to escape probable death by climbing out a window and onto the cornice over the shop front. From this dangerous perch he started screaming for help.

     With the boy out of the way, Feigenbaum returned to Mrs. Hoffman and stabbed her in the left side of her neck, then drew the knife forward to the right some six inches, severing her jugular vein.¹¹ Her son, looking in through the window, saw Feigenbaum strike his mother with the knife then saw his mother slowly rise and attempt to struggle towards him but fell to the floor before she had gone a half dozen steps.

     The murderer, meanwhile, fled back to his room. Opening the window he was able to climb onto the roof of a shed or outhouse and climb down to the yard where an alleyway led to the street. There was a pump inside the yard and Feigenbaum was able to stop and quickly wash his hands. Meanwhile Michael Hoffman’s shouts of “murder, police” had alerted the local beat cop as well as several neighbours who all arrived just as Feigenbaum, with no jacket, hat or shoes, emerged from the alley. Faced with the excited crowd he attempted to run but was quickly captured. After a search, a bloody knife was found in the alleyway.

     Feigenbaum was returned to the Hoffman’s apartment, perhaps so that his victim could identify him, but Juliana Hoffman was, if not dead, then unconscious with death shortly following. Michael Hoffman, however, was very much alive and was able to positively identify the lodger as the man who killed his mother right in front of his eyes. He also pointed out to the police that both the door to the closet where his mother kept her purse and the purse itself were open but that they were both closed when they had gone to bed. Robbery thus seemed to be the obvious motive. The tramp gardener was arrested and taken to the First Avenue Station House and locked in a cell.

     Feigenbaum was taken from First Avenue to appear before Justice Simms in the Essex Market Police Court later that same day. Also present was Michael Hoffman who attempted to grab the prisoner by the throat but was prevented from doing so by the quick actions of the court officers. When asked to plead Feigenbaum, in a firm tone of voice, declared that he was not guilty of the murder. His defence was childishly simple: he did not commit the murder, he said, because his friend, one Jacob Weibel, had.

     He claimed that he had met Weibel when he was tramping through the countryside and the two of them had quickly become friends and travelled together. He knew that Mrs. Hoffman wouldn’t approve of two men sharing her room without either one paying so he had said nothing about Weibel to the Hoffmans. He claimed that Weibel would slip into the room to sleep at night and would be gone by morning. Weibel must have been the murderer and had attacked the Hoffmans while he, Feigenbaum had slept. What had happened to this man? He had disappeared “like a flash” when Michael Hoffman started yelling for help. What were you doing in the alley after the murder? I was just going to look for Weibel. “My God!” Feigenbaum exclaimed, “had I known that the man was such a scoundrel I would not have permitted him to be near me for a moment.” ¹²

     No one was convinced by this convenient argument and Feigenbaum was remanded without bail for examination on Monday 3^rd of September.

     Carl Feigenbaum eventually went to trial on the 26^th of October, 1894, in front of Recorder Frederick Smyth, the same judge in charge of the Ameer Ben Ali trial in 1891. He was defended by two lawyers: Lawton and Hugh O. Pentecost while the prosecution consisted of Assistant District Attorneys Vernon M. Davis and Stephen J. O'Hare.

     He stubbornly, even insanely, stuck to the story that he was innocent and that Jacob Weibel had murdered Mrs. Hoffman. Against this futile defence was the evidence that the murder weapon appeared to have belonged to him and that blood was seen on one of his hands when he was being booked at First Avenue. He was also shown to be a thief and con artist with many aliases but whose real name appeared to be Zahn. All of this evidence was secondary, however, to the testimony of Michael Hoffman who identified Feigenbaum as the man who murdered his mother. In what was almost the definition of an open and shut case Feigenbaum was found guilty and sentenced to death. Lawton and Pentecost, however, kept up a desperate fight for the life of their client.

     The lawyers first motioned for a new trial during their clients sentencing hearing but it was denied by Recorder Smyth. Next they applied at the Appellate Court for a retrial but the appellate court judge felt that there were no grounds for an appeal. They then tried to have his death sentence commuted by reason of insanity.¹³  This tactic, at least, stayed the execution while the matter was taken under advisement.

     Eventually the lawyers efforts were rewarded when on the 5^th of March, 1896, the Governor appointed the noted alienist, Dr. Carlos F. Macdonald, to examine and report on the question of Feigenbaum’s sanity ¹⁴. On the 19^th of March Macdonald finished his report and declared Carl Feigenbaum to be sane.

     With all legal options exhausted Feigenbaum was executed on the 27^th of April, 1896, the 19^th man to sit in the electric chair at Sing Sing Prison.

William S. Lawton’s Theory.

     No sooner was Feigenbaum declared dead then William Sanford Lawton stated that “I Believe that Carl Feigenbaum, whom you have just seen put to death in the electric chair, can easily be connected with the Jack-the-Ripper murders in Whitechapel, London.”¹⁵ He added “I will stake my professional reputation that if the police will trace this man's movements carefully for the last few years their investigations will lead them to London and to Whitechapel.” ¹⁶

     Lawton described himself as the only man Feigenbaum would trust and he based his theory, he said, on a confession that his client made to him one night. Feigenbaum told him “I have for years suffered from a singular disease, which induces an all absorbing passion. This passion manifests itself in a desire to kill and mutilate every woman who falls in my way. At such times I am unable to control myself.” ¹⁷

     Lawton was so startled, he said, that he at first didn’t know what to do. Mulling over the confession, however, led him to wonder about the Jack the Ripper murders in London and any possible connection with his client. He stated that he looked up the dates of the London murders and then selected two before asking Feigenbaum confidentially: “Carl, were you in London from this date to that one,” naming the selected dates.

     “Yes,” he answered, before, as Lawton stated “he relapsed into silence.” ¹⁸

     The lawyer decided to dig deeper and by checking Feigenbaum’s “record” he was able to ascertain that Feigenbaum had travelled all over the US and Europe at a time when several Ripper-like murders were reported in those same locations and that he had been in Wisconsin during a series of mutilation murders of women there. He then claimed that he communicated with London and was able to verify that Feigenbaum was there during the Whitechapel murders. Eventually Lawton put the question to the tramp gardener whether he was actually responsible for London’s East End murders. Feigenbaum’s reply, according to the lawyer, was that “the Lord was responsible for his acts and that to Him only could he confess.” ¹⁹

     Lawton also offered additional proof of his theory, stating that Feigenbaum put on an act which made him seem simple-minded and even imbecilic. As he stood in front of the judge during his arraignment, for example, he punched himself in the head and breast while exclaiming over and over “How foolish of me to trust a stranger. How foolish of me to trust a stranger.” In reality, Lawton said, his client was “crafty” and very intelligent. Lawton also pointed out that although Feigenbaum acted as if he were a penniless tramp he actually left money and property in his will and he paid $90 for his own funeral arrangements.

      He was also, so the lawyer claimed, able to converse knowledgably on such topics as surgery and dissection. Feigenbaum would lapse into silence, however, if he was asked directly whether he had any practical understanding of these subjects.

     Lawton also believed that the murder of Mrs. Hoffman was a botched Ripper attack rather than an attempted robbery and that his client had been unable to begin mutilating the body because of Michael Hoffman’s screams for help. He also pointed out that one expert had told him that there were traces of old blood on Feigenbaum’s knife, evidence, he believed, which connected his client to some earlier murder. The fact that Feigenbaum seemed to fit at least part of the description of the murderer of Carrie Brown, known as “Shakespeare,” in the East River Hotel in the Lower East Side of New York in 1891, and had also murdered Mrs. Hoffman under similar circumstances, also pointed, in Lawton’s mind, to the conclusion that his client was the notorious Jack the Ripper.

     Lawton even had some support in his theory from Assistant District Attorney Vernon M. Davis, who had prosecuted Feigenbaum, who stated “If it were proved that Feigenbaum was ‘Jack the Ripper’ it would not greatly surprise me” ²⁰

     In the end Lawton summed up his ex-client with theses words:

     “The man was a devil. The motive for the crime was his frightful desire for mutilation.” ²¹

Trevor Marriott’s Theory.

     It is important here to understand Trevor Marriott’s theory about the identity of Jack the Ripper as it first appeared in his 2005 hardcover book Jack the Ripper: The 21^st Century Investigation ²² before looking at his case against Feigenbaum.

     Marriott first investigated, then rejected, eleven of the more famous Ripper candidates. He then laid out his theory beginning with the statement that “I’ve always believed that, should the truth ever come out, the killer would be revealed as someone who did not fall under suspicion at the time and has not been mentioned by any researcher to date.” He then states “For a long time I’ve suspected that Jack the Ripper may have been a merchant seaman.” ²³

     This, then, is the heart of Marriott’s theory, that before each murder the Ripper came into London on board a merchant ship and then sailed off again while Scotland Yard was left groping in the darkened Whitechapel streets searching for a killer who was many miles away.

     Added to this was the observation that London’s docks were close to Whitechapel; a seaman who docked in London many times would probably know the territory of Whitechapel and Spitalfields; the murderer was said to have had the appearance of a sailor; he may have had his own cabin on board ship to return to in order to clean himself and gaps in the dates of the murders could be explained by the exigencies of a sailors’ work and life. Marriott also mentions the newspaper article which appeared in the New York Sun, on the 6^th of February, 1889, which reported a series of Ripper-like murders in Managua, the capitol of Nicaragua, in Central America. These could be explained by the Ripper being a merchant seaman who simply changed lines and now sailed from Europe to the Americas.

     Marriott turned his attentions to all ships that were in dock during the dates of the murders and then, for reasons that are not very clear, he zeroed in on a group of small German merchant vessels from Bremen and Hamburg. He found that ships of theNorddeutscher Lloyd Line, which sailed out of Bremen, were in port during all the dates covered by the Whitechapel murders and that one, the Reiher, was in port on five of the eight dates. Ships from Hamburg were in port during all but one of the dates, that of  the murder of Francis Coles on the 13^th of February, 1891. He also found a Ripper-like murder that had occurred in Flensburg, a German port city close to the Danish border, in October, 1889. Marriott states that ships from Bremen docked here as well.

     Unfortunately, what with the passage of time and problems caused by incomplete records, Marriott could not identify and name a plausible suspect and so his book ended with a question mark. However, the type of man Marriott suspected was clear. He was a German merchant seaman who was probably unmarried and free of obligations who sailed from the German port of Bremen, and possibly Hamburg, and who may have been arrested for some other crime and either transported or was sentenced to a long prison term. Carl Feigenbaum, Marriott was soon to learn, is a perfect fit for this unidentified suspect.

     Marriott’s case against Feigenbaum relies heavily on Lawton so he gives the lawyer’s theory full play. He goes beyond Lawton, however, when, instead of just saying that Feigenbaum travelled around Europe and the US, he adds a list of Ripper-like murders that occurred throughout Europe and the United States at a time when Feigenbaum was still living in Germany and sailing between Europeand North America on ships from Bremen:

     October, 1889. Flensburg, Germany. Murder and dismemberment of a prostitute.

     January, 1889. Managua, Nicaragua. Murder and mutilation of six prostitutes.

     11 April, 1890, Hurley, Wisconsin, USA. The murder of prostitute “Lottie Morgan.”

     28 April, 1890, Benthen, Germany. Murder and mutilation of a woman.

     4 December, 1890. Berne, Switzerland. Murder and mutilation of “peasant girl.”

     24 April, 1891, Jersey City, New Jersey, USA. Murder and mutilation of Carrie Brown.

     25 October, 1891. Berlin, Germany. Murder and mutilation of prostitute Hedwig Nitsche.

     31 January, 1892. New Jersey, USA. Murder of Mrs. Elizabeth Senior.

     3 April, 1892. Berlin, Germany. Murder of a prostitute.

     31 August, 1894. New York City, New York, USA. Murder of Mrs. Juliana Hoffman.

     Marriott then adds to this list all of the Whitechapel victims starting from Martha Tabram, excluding Elizabeth Stride and Rose Mylett, and points out that after Feigenbaum’s execution reports of Ripper-like murders around the world stopped.

     Marriott concludes his case with these words:

     “I firmly believe that Carl Feigenbaum was Jack the Ripper and that his name will now enter history as that of the world’s most notorious serial killer. For this man was responsible for a series of horrific murders of poor, unfortunate, helpless women on three continents over a period of six years and, after going to his grave, evaded detection for over a century.” ²⁴

A Critical look at Carl Feigenbaum.

     Marriott also writes:

     “However, there will be Ripper enthusiasts around the world who still will not be convinced that the mystery is now solved, and never will be. To this small minority, the Jack the Ripper case has become a part of their lives to the point where they are now obsessed by the mystery.” ²⁵

     At the risk of being tarred with this childish brush I hope that a critical look at the candidacy of Carl Feigenbaum for being Jack the Ripper will be tolerated by the readers.

     Almost the whole case against Feigenbaum rests with the testimony of William S. Lawton. If it hadn’t been for Lawton, nobody would even remember Feigenbaum today, let alone consider him a viable candidate for London’s Jack the Ripper. When looked at closely, however, Lawton’s theory offers some problems.

     Lawton wrote of the confession: “When Feigenbaum was in the Tombs awaiting trial I saw him several times. The evidence in his case seemed so clear that  I cast about for a theory of insanity. Certain actions denoted a decided mental weakness somewhere. When I asked him point blank:

     “‘Did you kill Mrs. Hoffman?’ he made this reply:

     “‘I have for years suffered from a singular disease, which induces an all absorbing passion. This passion manifests itself in a desire to kill and mutilate the woman who falls in my way. At such times I am unable to control myself.’” ²⁶

     This statement is interesting for several reasons. First, Lawton states that he heard Feigenbaum’s “confession” when the prisoner was “in the Tombs awaiting trial,” so, in other words, before the 26^th of October, 1894, or very early in a long legal process that would eventually stretch to April of 1896.

     Second, according to Lawton the evidence against his client in the murder of Juliana Hoffman was “so clear” that he was forced to look at an insanity defence in order to try and save his clients life. In this context we see that the “confession” conveniently offersLawton exactly what he was desperately looking for: evidence of insanity.

     Feigenbaum suffered from a “disease,” a “passion” which he was unable to control. Perhaps the open and shut case wasn’t so open and shut after all…except that Lawton never used this defence. Not during the trial, not during the appeal process and not, amazingly, when he and his co-counsel, Hugh Pentecost, were trying to save their client’s life by trying to have him declared insane. In fact Lawton never told Pentecost that Feigenbaum had ever confessed to anything, let alone that he had a “desire to kill and mutilate the women who fall in my way.” Lawton also never mentioned his growing suspicion that Feigenbaum might be the Ripper, or any of his supposed transatlantic research which turned suspicion into conviction. Supposedly it never came up, even in passing, and was only revealed after the death of their client  - and then to a reporter. This strains the bounds of credulity to breaking.    

     In a revealing article that appeared in the New York Times, Pentecost was asked about his co-counsel’s theory. The lawyer stated “In Feigenbaum I found nothing in his homicidal method to remind me of ‘the Ripper.’” ²⁷

     Pentecost also admitted that he thought his client was guilty of the Hoffman murder and that he was insane but was fairly adamant about Feigenbaum being Jack the Ripper: “I do not like…to spoil a good story, but I take no stock in my colleague's story myself, while, as to facts, Mr. Lawton, of course, is able to tell more than I, as I only knew our client to talk to through an interpreter.”

     This is another interesting point: Feigenbaum’s English was either very poor or it was non existent. Pentecost could only speak to him with the help of an interpreter and an interpreter had to be provided for Feigenbaum during his trial. This point was also brought up by the Ann Arbor Register which wrote “Mr. Lawton frequently conversed with Fiegenbaum (sic) in English while the man was confined in the Tombs, but on every occasion when anyone else was present — even today, when he declared his innocence to Warden Sage—he demanded the assistance of an interpreter.” ²⁸

     Did Feigenbaum speak English only to Lawton as the Register suggested or was this a mistake made trying to reconcile Feigenbaum’s lack of English with Lawton’s story? Did Lawton speak German? If he didn’t, it’s hard to see how Feigenbaum could have expressed his “all absorbing passion” so cogently in pigeon English.

     Pentecost stated that Feigenbaum “…wrote me some excellent letters in German about his case when in prison,” and perhaps more importantly, “the subject of the correspondence- the mythical Jacob Weibel, whom he accused of the murder- was well treated.” Pentecost’s opinion was that Feigenbaum spoke German and very little English, certainly his client didn’t talk to him in English. It is difficult, to me at any rate, to picture Jack the Ripper as non English speaking.

     It is also important to note that rather than confess to the murder of Juliana Hoffman, or any other murder for that matter, Feigenbaum continued to insist to Pentecost that Jacob Weibel was the guilty man. It is hard to see why the two counsellors, working together to try and desperately save the life of their client, would have such different views of, and information regarding, the same man.

     It should also be emphasized that no one other than Lawton ever claimed to have heard this confession or any corroborating evidence from England and Lawton never revealed to anyone what the evidence was or exactly how he had come by it.

     Although Feigenbaum was supposed to have traveled all over the U.S. and Europe when Ripper-like murders took place, no evidence is offered by either Lawton or Marriott proving that Feigenbaum was actually in the locations of these murders on the appropriate dates. As a sailor, Feigenbaum could have been anywhere in the world and merely stating that Feigenbaum was much traveled isn’t evidence of anything. Of much more importance is Lawton’s claim that Feigenbaum was in Wisconsin during a series of mutilation murders of women there. This appears to be a lie. Not that Feigenbaum was in Wisconsin, his brother admitted that he was, but that there was ever a series of ripper-like murders there.

     When I first did research on Carl Feigenbaum several years ago I spent some time looking for this supposed series of murders. I couldn’t find any evidence that they ever occurred. In writing this article I returned to the problem once more and still could find no reports of this supposed series. I did originally find articles reporting the murder of a prostitute named “Lottie Morgan” in Hurley, Wisconsin, in April, 1890, which was described as equalling “in horror any of the Whitechapel crimes,” ²⁹ but Morgan was shot and then killed by a blow to the head from an axe. This did not suggest to me a Jack the Ripper murder. Marriott, however, states that the Morgan murder might have been  carried out by the Ripper. He then uses it to support his theory that Feigenbaum is known to have visited locations where Ripper-like murders took place. This is all very doubtful.

     Hurley in 1890 was a rough and tumble iron mining and logging town with a bad reputation. It was said that “the four toughest places on earth are Cumberland, Hayward, Hurley and Hell,” with Hell coming last. 

     Silver Street in Hurley, off of which Morgan was found murdered, was lined with saloons, beer parlours, pool halls and brothels. It was described by one scandalized author as the “hardest street of the hardest town on the Iron Range. Murder, robbery and every violence and sin has been perpetrated... terrible sins have been locked in chambers of iniquity, while much sin that would have veiled itself almost anywhere else has boldly walked abroad on Silver street...” ³⁰ Hurley, therefore, was a place that was not immune to violent crime and murder.

     More importantly at the time it quickly became apparent that Lottie Morgan was murdered because she knew too much about the robbery of the Iron Exchange Bank of Hurley in October of 1889. The bank was robbed of $40,000 and two men, Phelps Perrin, who worked at the bank, and Ed Baker, a local saloon keeper, were arrested for the crime. Morgan was subpoenaed to testify at the first trial but she quickly left town, only returning at a later date. She was murdered soon after she had made cryptic comments to several people which hinted at what she knew and before she could testify at the subsequent trials of the two men.

     Neither Lawton nor Marriott was able to prove that Carl Feigenbaum was anywhere near Hurley, Wisconsin, on the early morning ofthe 11^th of April, 1890, when “Lottie Morgan” was murdered, other than the vague talk that he had been in Wisconsin at some time. Marriott points out that the Norddeutscher Lloyd Line ship the S.S. Eider, sailing from Bremen, docked in the Port of New York on the 9^th of April and that “if Feigenbaum was on that vessel he would have had ample time to get from New York to Wisconsin.” ³¹ This is clearly ridiculous as there was no way in 1890 to get from New York City to northern Wisconsin in two days.

     The so called series of mutilation murders of women in Wisconsin appears to have been nonexistent. Lawton made the whole thing up. Worse, it’s a lie designed to add weight to the theory that Feigenbaum was a Ripper-like serial killer. If Lawton had evidence of Feigenbaum’s guilt, as he claimed, why did he have to bolster it with lies?

     This must also put in doubt Lawton’s statement that his sailor/itinerant gardener client had special knowledge of surgery and dissection. There is no other source for this information but it’s just the type of thing one might say when trying to prove a suspect was Jack the Ripper. After all, the general public believed that the Ripper, who ever he was, was probably a doctor or surgeon. The American public had been told this only seven months earlier when Dr. Forbes Winslow arrived in New York to chair the psychiatric section of the International Medico-Legal Congress. “The Whitechapel murders were committed by a medical student of good family,” he stated, “whose mind was wrecked by study. His insanity took the form of religious fervor and homicidal impulse. He was found and incarcerated in a penal asylum. No anatomical murder occurred after this arrest.” ³²

     Feigenbaum, as far as is known, had no medical or surgical training, although Pentecost stated that he had “no small amount of instruction,” and that his “handwriting was better than you could expect from a practical flower gardener.” This suggests some education but doesn’t prove any medical background. However, it is suspicious that, once again, Lawton provides information about their client that only he had knowledge of. Pentecost had heard none of it.

     Lawton’s belief that the murder of Mrs. Juliana Hoffman was a botched Ripper murder is also hard to credit. Hoffman was murdered in her own apartment with her 16 year old son sleeping in the same room only feet away. She wasn’t a prostitute picked up on a street corner but a widow who Feigenbaum lived with for three days before he attacked her with a knife. Robbery seems to be the obvious motive, although Lawton and Pentecost believed otherwise. The door to the closet where Mrs. Hoffman kept some of her money was open, as was the purse kept inside the closet. These were both closed when the Hoffmans had gone to bed. Moreover, Feigenbaum, who had no money, was to pay his rent on the day the murder/robbery took place. Supposedly he would be forced to leave when he couldn’t pay so a robbery and disappearance while the Hoffmans slept seems likely. If this was the case then perhaps Mrs. Hoffman awoke while Feigenbaum was rifling her purse, screamed, and forced the ex-sailor to kill her to keep her quiet. It is almost hard to imagine a more un-Ripper-like crime.

     But what about connections between Feigenbaum and the murder of Carrie Brown, alias “Shakespeare,” which had taken place inNew York’s Lower East Side on the 24^th of April, 1891? ³³ The Brown murder was thought to have been committed by Jack the Ripper come to New York in order to prove his superiority over the New York Police Department. Brown was strangled and then mutilated in the East River Hotel by a man who was listed in the hotel’s register as “C. Kniclo,” described as having a thick accent which was thought to have been German.

     Was this Feigenbaum? Forgetting that his brother stated that Carl had arrived in the US in 1892 for a moment, and from the witness description of “C. Kniclo” alone, the answer is no. The murderer of “Shakespeare” was 5 feet 8 or 9 inches tall, thin, 32 to 35 years of age with a light complexion, long thin nose, light coloured hair and a blond mustache. Feigenbaum was only 5 feet 4 inches tall, thin, about 51 years of age in 1891 with a medium complexion, large, red nose, dark brown hair and mustache.

     Marriott states that the original description of the murderer of Carrie Brown is “questionable, as the police at the time did not believe it was accurate.” ³⁴ This is incorrect. In reality the NYPD set great store by this description and all police bulletins during the investigation, including those sent to other cities, made use of it. It is also obvious that the vast majority of suspects pulled into the massive police dragnet were tall, thin, blond haired men. As one newspaper wrote at the end of the investigation “there have been dozens of light complexioned men with long noses and blond moustaches placed under arrest in this and other cities.” ³⁵

     Marriott also suggests that “the other possibility” is that “C. Kniclo” could have left after he was finished with Brown and that she then could have gone out again and found another client – Feigenbaum – who was actually her killer. However, according to the rules of the East River Hotel, as explained at both the inquest and trial of Ameer Ben Ali, although men could leave, women weren’t permitted to once they had checked in with their “husband” for the night, this so that the hotel wouldn’t get a reputation as a brothel. Brown, therefore, couldn’t have gone out and picked up another client and then returned to the hotel. She would not have been let out, let alone back in again.

     The rest of Lawton’s case against his client is based on dubious observations. That Feigenbaum was “crafty,” or pretended to be an imbecile, or supposedly had money and property while feigning poverty, does not make him an international serial killer.

     Marriott’s case depends heavily on Lawton’s but he adds his own evidence as well.

     His suggestion that Jack the Ripper may have been a merchant seaman is, of course, not new. At the time of the Whitechapel murders Edward Knight Larkins, a clerk in the Customs Statistical Department, annoyed anyone he could write to, or buttonhole, that he believed that the murderer sailed to London aboard cattle boats which sailed out of Portugal. He named three ships: City ofOporto, City of Cork and the City of Malaga as having carried the murderer, or murderers, into London on, or just before, the dates of the murders. His list of possible Rippers included cattlemen Manuel Crux Xavier, Jose Laurenco, Joao de Souza Machado and J. Da Rocha. Dr. Forbes Winslow also pointed to sailors who came into London on cattle boats as likely Ripper suspects. Another man who pointed the finger at merchant vessels at the time of the murders was Mr. Charles Barber who wrote to the authorities to point out, incorrectly, that the S.S. Alaska was in port in Liverpool during every murder. Mr. Barber later believed that Frederick Deeming, sailing aboard the Alaska, was the Ripper. More recently theorist Michael Conlon has stated that National Line steamships were in port in London during each of the murders and that this points the finger of guilt at his suspect Arbie La Bruckman who was a cattleman working the ships of the National Line.

     The point is that although it is perfectly feasible that the Ripper could have been a merchant seaman, there is no way to positively connect any sailor to the Whitechapel murders simply because he worked for a shipping company which docked one of its ships in London on the dates of the murders. Marriott pinpoints the Norddeutscher Lloyd Line out of Bremen, although he doesn’t clearly explain why, and shows that Feigenbaum sailed with this line. However, the NLL was a large shipping company with dozens of ships, sailing steam lines around the world and with hundreds, if not thousands, of sailors in its employ ³⁶. Worse, it is known that Feigenbaum also sailed with other shipping lines and not always on boats out of Bremen. He therefore could have been anywhere in the world during the Whitechapel murders. Unless you can show positively that Carl Feigenbaum, or Anton Zahn, was in London during each of the murders all you have is unsatisfactory speculation.

     Where Marriott goes beyond Lawton is in actually identifying several Ripper-like murders that occurred around the world that he suggests might have been the work of Feigenbaum, or at least that he might have had the opportunity to have committed them. Unfortunately most of these murders, much like those of “Lottie Morgan” and Carrie Brown already mentioned, seem to have absolutely no connection with either Carl Feigenbaum or Jack the Ripper.

     After the Whitechapel murders ceased and the Ripper remained uncaught, newspaper reports from around the world suggested that London’s unknown assassin had moved on to greener pastures. Murders in Japan, Chile, Jamaica, Nicaragua, Mexico, the United States, Canada, France, Italy, Austria, Germany, and Britain, for example, were either seen as the work of Jack himself, or were at least described as “like the Ripper’s handiwork.” It seems that almost every woman, and some men, murdered with a knife or edged weapon was considered one of Jack’s possible victims. This was doubly true if the woman was a prostitute, no matter how she was killed. Marriott, however, suggests that any murder described by newspapers as being the work of Jack the Ripper and taking place in a location that might have some connection to Feigenbaum is fair game for speculation. This is an unfortunate trap.

      To begin with, Marriott could find no confirmation from Nicaragua of reports from the New York Sun of six prostitutes murdered and mutilated in the capitol city of Managua in January, 1889. At the time of this writing no one, including this author, has been able to find any evidence that this series actually took place. Moreover, newspaper reports out of London in February, 1889, stated that the supposed Managua murders as well as a supposed series in Jamaica were hoaxes. Stephen Ryder has since discovered that the Jamaican Ripper murders never happened. The “series” was actually a single murder that was quickly solved and the murderer tried and executed. This fact must add credence to the hoax report.

     The supposed murder and mutilation of a prostitute in Flensburg, Germany, a northern port city near the Danish border, in October, 1889, fits in nicely with the fact that Feigenbaum was German. Marriott also states that ships from the Bremen Line docked here as well. News reports said that the victim had her throat cut, her abdomen cut open and that her body was then dismembered. However, this supposed Ripper-like murder also turned out to be a hoax. The victim was a young girl and not a prostitute and she was killed in an accident rather than being murdered. It was, once more, the New York press which hoaxed the story by turning a tragic event into a horrific murder and leaving German newspapermen to scratch their heads in bewilderment. There was absolutely no connection with Jack the Ripper or Carl Feigenbaum.

     On the 4^th of December, 1890, the body of a peasant girl was found in a forest near Berne, Switzerland, murdered and mutilated. There is no other information and no known connection with Feigenbaum.

     The murder and mutilation of a woman in Beuthen ³⁷, Germany, on 27 April, 1891, causes some serious problems. Unfortunately the victim was not a prostitute but the wife of a tailor named Imielaw (also, variously, Imielawa or Imlelaw) and she was having an affair with a well connected surgeon named Dr. Kudelko. The cuckolded husband was first arrested but released after he was able to give an account of himself. It was during his examination that police learned that the victim was having an affair with Kudelko who was then arrested. Since the woman was having an affair with a doctor, and the wounds to her body seemed to have been “skillfully executed,” and the fact that the victim’s face was attacked, possibly denoting the work of someone who knew her, and her body was found just behind the hospital where Kudelko worked, it is fairly obvious why this seems to be the result of a lover’s triangle gone bad rather than Jack the Ripper wandering a-field from his usual Whitechapel haunts. The Beuthen murder really creates problems with Marriott’s theory in that he has the date wrong. He writes that it occurred on the 28^th of April, 1890, when in fact it happened on the 27^th of April, 1891, or only three days after the Carrie Brown murder in New York. Lawton used the Brown murder as evidence that Feigenbaum was the Ripper, as does Marriott, so it’s hard to jettison it from the theory in favour of the Beuthen murder. However, if Beuthen was not a Ripper murder then it is evidence that Ripper-like murders did occur, even in Germany, that had no connection with Feigenbaum. Catch 22.

     On the 25^th of October, 1891, a prostitute named Hedwig Nitsche was murdered in a small cellar room she used to entertain customers in the Holzmarkt Gasse, a street in the northern part of the city of Berlin, Germany. She had just entered the room with her client when he apparently attacked her with a knife, causing her to scream and arouse the owner of the house. At almost the exact same time another prostitute named Mueller, who also used the room, arrived with a client and opened the door. The murderer was able to push past Mueller, her male client and the landlady, a Mrs. Poetsch, and rush out of the house with Mueller’s client in hot pursuit. Unfortunately, the man escaped. Inside the blood stained room Hedwig Nitsche’s body lay fully clothed on the floor with her throat cut and a long incision running from the throat downwards. The murderer was described as being “about 20 years of age, of middle height, and slightly built, with blonde hair and moustache.” ³⁸ This was obviously not Carl Feigenbaum. Marriott first states “In any event, there is no description given.” ³⁹ but later says “…the description that was given of the suspected murderer does not match Feigenbaum…But, as we know, the Ripper mystery is full of inaccurate and misleading descriptions….” ⁴⁰ This is hard to credit  as the man first accosted several women in the area before going off with Nitsche and the fact that Mueller, her client and Mrs. Poetsch also got a good look at the murderer. As the description came from several sources I would suggest that it can be deemed reliable and should not be airily dismissed offhand simply because it embarrassingly pokes a hole in a pet theory.

     Because Feigenbaum was known to have traveled around the United States, and because Marriott is suggesting Feigenbaum was the Ripper who killed wherever he went, “Ripper-like” murders that occurred in the U.S. become important evidence against the German sailor. Unfortunately, as we have seen, Marriott has struck out at his first two times at bat, Morgan and Brown. What about his next trip to the plate?

     On the 31^st of January, 1892, Mrs. Elizabeth Senior, age 73, was murdered in her home in Millburn, New Jersey. The body was found by her 70 year old husband who had been at work at his job as nightwatchman at Fouratt’s hat shop. She had been slashed, or stabbed, in the throat then stabbed eleven times in the chest. The murderer then calmly took his time ransacking the house, as if he knew he wouldn’t be interrupted. Robbery was the obvious motive. Another German, a man named August Lentz, was eventually arrested for the crime. Lentz knew the Seniors and knew that the husband would be away during the night as he had recently been fired from the same hat shop that employed Mr. Senior. Lentz was also seen by more than one witness near the Senior’s house close to the time of the murder although he denied even being in Millburn that night. However, he was also identified by a train conductor as a man who had got on the train at, or near, Millburn and immediately locked himself in the washroom for over an hour before taking his seat. A New York lodging house keeper also identified Lentz as the man who had changed his blood stained shirt at his flophouse the day after the murder. In the end, there was insufficient evidence to make the charges stick and Lentz was released.

     To show what type of psychotic and violent criminal Lentz really was, you need look no further than his arrest in Summit, New Jersey, in 1909. The victim had taken pity on Lentz and befriended him. Lentz smashed his “friend” in the head three times with a shovel, threw him down a flight of stairs, hit him again on the head with a club and finally stabbed him. Amazingly the man survived and Lentz was arrested. The reason for the murderous attack? Lentz was attempting to rob the man. It should be obvious that August Lentz was probably the murderer of Mrs. Senior and that he killed her in order to rob her house.

     Marriott connects another murder in Berlin on the 3^rd of April, 1892, with the Hedwig Nitsche murder of October, 1891. The 1892 murder was that of a prostitute who was found strangled in the stairwell of a building on Kaiser Wilhelmstrasse. The newspapers suggested, with no real evidence, that the killer didn’t have time to mutilate the body. Marriott links this murder with the earlier one by pointing out that “the victim was a prostitute and was strangled.” ⁴¹ How the strangulation connects with the throat cutting and mutilation of Nitsche is not made clear. Unfortunately a second strangled woman was found in a sand pit in Charlottenburg, Berlin, in late September, 1892.⁴²  This murder was connected at the time with the stairwell strangling and suggests a strangler on the loose rather than a Ripper. Also it should be remembered that if his brother was correct then Feigenbaum settled in America in early 1892 so was not strangling women in Germany in late September of that year.

    Marriott’s list of murders possibly carried out by Carl Feigenbaum includes victims who were prostitutes, housewives, widows and a simple peasant girl. The weapons used to kill were knives, for the most part, but also an axe and strangulation. Most of the murders mentioned do not seem to have been carried out by Feigenbaum, however, and some were press hoaxes which never happened. This is the trap. Trying to connect a single suspect to the various ripper-like murders that occurred around the world is a mug’s game. There were several Ripper-like murders that were solved and men were executed or sent away for long prison sentences because of the fact. There are also suspects in several “unsolved” murders at which the finger of guilt can be much more comfortably pointed than at someone like Feigenbaum. Once you can state that a Ripper-like murder was definitely not carried out by Jack the Ripper, then doubt must fall on all the rest because these types of murders did occur around the world and men who were not Jack the Ripper were responsible for them.

     Marriott states that after Feigenbaum’s arrest in 1894 there were no other Ripper murders. This is simply not true. Murders attributed to Jack the Ripper, or that evoked his name and memory, continued around the world well into the next century. Some, like the murder and mutilation of prostitute Sarah Martin in New York City in December, 1903, were solved. Others, like the murder and mutilation of prostitute Francisca Hofer ⁴³ in Vienna in December, 1898, were not. Using the wide latitude that Lawton and Marriott have used a case could be made that both might be placed at the feet of Carl Feigenbaum…except for the small matter that he was already dead.

Conclusions.

     Was Carl Feigenbaum Jack the Ripper? It seems unlikely. William Lawton’s word, on which the whole case rests, cannot be trusted. A supposed confession was not shared. The confessor refused to confess. Connection to Whitechapel, London, in 1888 has not been proved. A series of mutilation murders in Wisconsin did not exist. Co-counsel, who knew the suspect, dismissed the claims. The story quickly disappeared.

     Marriott suggests that Lawton is a credible witness merely based on the opinion that if he was lying why didn’t he go all out and claim that Feigenbaum had actually confessed to him that he was the Ripper? For that matter, why would Lawton make up the story at all? What did he stand to gain by it? These are questions that cannot be answered now. The answer depends upon the thinking and character and personal circumstances of a man now long dead. All we can do is examine Lawton’s words for evidence of truth. The evidence is lacking.

     Trevor Marriott initially made a case for a German merchant seaman being Saucy Jack. He then discovered Carl Feigenbaum, almost a perfect fit for his theory. However, Marriott failed originally to show that the Ripper was a German merchant seaman. The theory was plausible but not proven. Could the Ripper have been a German sailor? Or an American sailor? Or a Portuguese sailor? Or a Malay sailor? Of course. Could he have been a butcher, baker, tinker, tailor, beggar man or thief? Of course. Could he have been Carl Feigenbaum? Not with the almost complete lack of evidence that has been presented to support his candidacy. Wishful thinking cannot solve this puzzle. 

 

 

Francis Tumblety (1833-1903)
a.k.a. J.H. Blackburn, Frank Townsend

Very little information has been ascertained about Tumblety’s beginnings, his birthplace being the first of many mysteries surrounding this new suspect. According to Evans and Gainey’s 1995 edition of Jack the Ripper: First American Serial Killer (pg. 188) he was born in Canada, while the most recent edition (1996) of The Jack the Ripper A-Z (pg. 453) lists his birthplace as Ireland. Even the exact year of his birth is still in question. In any event, he was born to James and Margaret Tumblety sometime around 1833, the youngest of eleven children: Patrick, Lawrence, Jane and Bridget (twins), Alice, Margaret, Ann, Julia, Elizabeth, and Mary.

Sometime within the next decade (this date, too, is undetermined), the Tumblety clan moved to Rochester, New York. The city directories first enumerate the Tumblety name (which has various spellings: Tumblety, Tumuelty, Tumility, Twomblety, et alia) in 1844 with Lawrence Tumuelty, listed as a gardener, living at the corner of Sophia and Clarissa streets. The other brother, Patrick, first is seen in the directory of 1849, listed as a fireman at Rapids in Rochester, and living at 6 Andrews. It was recently discovered that Francis’s father (named James, not Frank, as was noted in earlier editions of Evans and Gainey) died on May 7th, 1851.

Our first impressions of the young Francis begin around 1848, when neighbors and acquaintances thought him 'a dirty, awkward, ignorant, uncared-for, good-for-nothing boy... utterly devoid of education.' He was also known to peddle pornographic literature on the canal boats of Rochester. Sometime in adolescence he also began working at a small drug store run by a Dr. Lispenard, said to have 'carried on a medical business of a disreputable kind (Rochester Democrat and Republican, Dec.3, 1888).'

Around 1850 (just before the death of his father), Francis left Rochester, perhaps for Detroit. Here he started his own practice as an Indian herb doctor, which must have prospered since from 1854 onward he always appeared as if of considerable wealth.

He next turns up in Montreal in the fall of 1857, where he again made himself known as a prominent physician. Controversy brewed, however, when he was asked to run in the provincial elections of 1857-8. He declined the offer in what would become typical Tumblety fashion; with a grandiose and overbearing explanation in the local newspaper. But there was more: Tumblety was arrested on September 23, 1857 for attempting to abort the pregnancy of a local prostitute named Philomene Dumas. It was alleged that he sold her a bottle of pills and liquid for the purpose, but after some legal haggling Tumblety was released on October 1. A verdict of ‘no true bill’ was reached on the 24th and no trial was ever undertaken.

In either early 1858 (A-Z, 453) or July 1860 (Evans and Gainey, 258), Tumblety left Montreal for Saint John. In September of 1860, he again found trouble when a patient of his named James Portmore died while taking medicine prescribed by Tumblety. In his typical brazen fashion, Tumblety showed up at the coroner’s inquest and questioned Portmore’s widow himself as to the cause of death. The ruse didn’t work, however, and Tumblety made a last-ditch attempt at freedom by fleeing the town for Calais Maine.

From there he travelled to Boston, where he began what would be a long-running trademark: he would wear a military outfit and ride a white steed, sometimes leading two greyhounds before him. He didn’t remain long in Boston, however, and would soon travel and work in New York, Jersey City, Pittsburgh, San Francisco, and a variety of other cities. With the outbreak of the American Civil War, Tumblety moved to the capital and put on the airs of a Union army surgeon, claiming to be friends with President Lincoln, General Grant, and a host of other well-known political figures. It was at this time that Tumblety’s alleged hatred for women became most pronounced, as seen in the testimony of a Colonel Dunham, who was one night invited to dinner by Tumblety:

"Someone asked why he had not invited some women to his dinner. His face instantly became as black as a thunder-cloud. He had a pack of cards in his hand, but he laid them down and said, almost savagely, 'No, Colonel, I don’t know any such cattle, and if I did I would, as your friend, sooner give you a dose of quick poison than take you into such danger.' He then broke into a homily on the sin and folly of dissipation, fiercely denounced all women and especially fallen women.

He then invited us into his office where he illustrated his lecture so to speak. One side of this room was entirely occupied with cases, outwardly resembling wardrobes. When the doors were opened quite a museum was revealed -- tiers of shelves with glass jars and cases, some round and others square, filled with all sorts of anatomical specimens. The ‘doctor’ placed on a table a dozen or more jars containing, as he said, the matrices (uteri) of every class of women. Nearly a half of one of these cases was occupied exclusively with these specimens.

Not long after this the ‘doctor’ was in my room when my Lieutenant-Colonel came in and commenced expatiating on the charms of a certain woman. In a moment, almost, the doctor was lecturing him and denouncing women. When he was asked why he hated women, he said that when quite a young man he fell desperately in love with a pretty girl, rather his senior, who promised to reciprocate his affection. After a brief courtship he married her. The honeymoon was not over when he noticed a disposition on the part of his wife to flirt with other men. He remonstrated, she kissed him, called him a dear jealous fool -- and he believed her. Happening one day to pass in a cab through the worst part of the town he saw his wife and a man enter a gloomy-looking house. Then he learned that before her marriage his wife had been an inmate of that and many similar houses. Then he gave up all womankind."

If any of this account is to be taken at face value, it sets the mood for the ‘misogynist doctor’ so prevalent in Ripper theory and profiling.

Tumblety next moved to St. Louis, again setting up his ‘medical’ practice, and again promenading himself around the city with arrogant splendor. It was here that another aspect of Tumblety’s character emerges -- his paranoia. He was arrested in St. Louis for wearing military garb and medals he did not deserve, but Tumblety himself took it as persecution from his medical competitors. Soon after her traveled to Carondelet, Missouri and was again imprisoned for a time on the same charge.

It was upon his return to St. Louis, however, that Tumblety received his greatest blow. A poor choice in aliases resulted in his being arrested in connecting with the Lincoln assasination, as he was in the habit of using the name J.H. Blackburn. Dr. L.P. Blackburn was at that time under warrant for an alleged plot to infect the North with blankets carrying yellow-fever. Tumblety was eventually exonerated, but another rumor began that he had at one time employed one of the assasination conspirators. This rumor was dispelled as well. Tumblety subsequently wrote and published The Kidnapping of Dr. Tumblety, a short pamphlet he authored in an attempt to clear his name and re-establish his good-faith with the public. In reality, the book is little more than a series of paranoid ramblings and fraudulent testimonials.

After these fiascos Tumblety wisely chose to lave the U.S. for London in the late 1860s, soon after travelling to Berlin, then to Liverpool in 1874. It was there that he was to meet the not-yet famous Sir Henry Hall Caine (then 21), who was bisexual and almost certainly carried on a homosexual affair with the ‘doctor.’ The two carried on their romance until 1876, when Tumblety returned to New York City. While in New York, Tumblety aroused suspicion through his 'seeming mania for the company of young men and grown-up youths.'

In the years that followed, Tumblety continued to travel across both America and Europe, and raised controversy once again in 1880 when he brought a false suit against a Mrs. Lyons for the sum of $1000, which he claimed she stole from him. Then in October, 1885, his brother Patrick was killed in Rochester when a crumbled chimney landed on him.

Francis Tumblety returned to Liverpool in June of 1888, and once again found himself at odds with the police. He was arrested on November 7th, 1888 on charges of gross indecency and indecent assault with force and arms against four men between July 27th and November 2. These eight charges were euphemisms for homosexual activities. Tumblety was then charged on suspicion of the Whitechapel murders on the 12th (suggested he was free to kill Kelly between the 7th and 12th). Tumblety was bailed on November 16th. A hearing was held on November 20th at the Old Bailey, and the trial postponed until December 10th. Tumblety then fled to France under the alias ‘Frank Townsend’ on the 24th, and from there took the steamer La Bretagne to New York City.

New York officials new of his impending arrival in the city and had the ports watched for the suspect, but to no avail. Many American newspapers reported that Scotland Yard men had followed him across the Atlantic, and it is known the Inspector Andrews did follow asuspect to New York City around this time, though not named specifically as Tumblety.

New York City’s Chief Inspector Byrnes soon discovered Tumblety was lodging at 79 East Tenth Street at the home of Mrs McNamara, and he had him under surveillance for some days following. Byrnes could not arrest Tumblety because, in his own words, 'there is no proof of his complicity in the Whitechapel murders, and the crime for which he was under bond in London is not extraditable.'

The situation was tense: all of New York City knew of Tumblety’s whereabouts, thanks to the many newspaper articles covering Byrnes’s surveillance, but there was no legal means of detaining the man. Fear and suspicion rose until, on the 5th of December, Tumblety disappeared from his lodgings once again, eluding the New York police who were watching him so closely. Interest gradually waned as the years dragged on, and Tumblety next appears in Rochester in 1893, where he lived with his sister. He would die a decade later in 1903 in St. Louis, a man of considerable wealth. Tumblety was buried in Rochester, NY.

Such was the life of Francis Tumblety. Interestingly enough, there was absolutely no press coverage in the UK papers, while American papers (especially New York) carried dozens of full-length articles on his arrest and escape (see, for example, an article of December 3rd, 1888 from the Rochester Democrat and Republican). It has been suggested that Scotland Yard wished to keep Tumblety a secret from the press in order to avoid the embarassment of losing their top suspect.

Whatever the case, the story of Francis Tumblety and his connections to the Ripper crimes emerged only a few years ago in 1993, when Stewart Evans acquired what has now become known as the Littlechild letter. It was a letter penned by Chief Inspector John Littlechild in 1913 in response to some questions asked of him by journalist G.R. Sims. The authenticity of the letter has been established by numerous scientific and historical tests, and is not challenged by any researcher.

The letter mentions the name Tumblety as ‘a very likely suspect,’ and provided the first insight into a Scotland Yard suspect whose name was lost for 105 years. Evans continued to research the suspect with co-author Paul Gainey for two years before publishing the first edition of his work, The Lodger, which would be titled in subsequent editions Jack the Ripper: First American Serial Killer.

The news of this new suspect was indeed one of the most celebrated discoveries of the past decade, and many top-named researchers admit that Tumblety’s case is one of the most persuasive to have emerged in recent years.

Evans and Gainey outline fifteen reasons why they believe Tumblety should be considered a top suspect in the Whitechapel murders:

• Tumblety fits many requirements of what we now know as the ‘serial killer profile.’ He had a supposed hatred of women and prostitutes (the abortion with the prostitute Dumas, his alleged failed marriage to an ex-prostitute, his collection of uteri, etc.)
• Tumblety was in London at the time and may indeed have been the infamous ‘Batty Street Lodger’ -- he therefore may have had fair knowledge of the East End environs.
• Tumblety may have had some anatomical knowledge, as inferred by his collection of wombs, his ‘medical’ practice, and his short-term work with Dr. Lispenard in Rochester.
• He was arrested in the midst of the Autumn of Terror on suspicion of having committed the murders.
• There were no more murders after he fleed England on the 24th November, if one counts only the canonical five murders.
• Chief Inspector Littlechild, a top name in Scotland Yard, believed him a ‘very likely suspect,’ and he was not alone in his convictions.
• Tumblety was fond of using aliases, disappearing without a trace, and was the subject of police enquiries before his arrest.
• Scotland Yard and the American police had been in touch numerous times concerning Tumblety’s flight from France to New York.
• One of the three detectives inspectors assigned to the case was sent to New York at the same time, perhaps to pursue Tumblety.
• Tumblety evaded capture in New York City once again.
• Tumblety had the wealth necessary for frequent travel and could afford to change his clothes frequently should they have become bloodstained.
• He was an eccentric; but shrewd.
• He had a tendency toward violence at times, and his career may have included other offences both at home and abroad.
• Several acquaintances of his in America believed it likely that he was the Ripper when interviewed in 1888.
• There is a strong case to be made that he was indeed the Batty Street Lodger.

Still, there are many opponents who believe Tumblety’s status as ‘Scotland Yard’s top suspect’ is poorly deserved. They make note of the fact that Tumblety’s homosexuality would rule him out as a suspect, as homosexual serial killers are concerned singularly with male victims and would be uninterested in female prostitutes.

And last but not least The last suspect but i still say two as i believe that this last suspect is Tumblety.

 

 

The Lodger

In January 1911, McLure's Magazine published a story by Marie Belloc Lowndes entitled "The Lodger." The story revolves around a retired couple, both formerly servants who make extra income by renting out rooms in their home. Unsuccessful as landlords and facing the prospect of hard times, they are saved when a single gentleman rents their upstairs rooms at a higher rate than usual. The extra money permits the husband to once again indulge himself in a daily paper wherein he follows closely a series of murders of harlots committed by a madman calling himself "The Avenger."

The new lodger is a quiet gentleman who is a bit idiosyncratic. Deeply religious, he spends his days reading the bible aloud. He is given to nocturnal wanderings, leaving the house late and not returning until early morning. On those nights when he is at home, he conducts strange experiments on the gas ring in one of his rooms.

The wife becomes suspicious. Noting that her lodger's late night disappearances coincide with the murders, she begins to believe that he is "The Avenger."

Thus was born for the public the mythical lodger who turns out to be Jack the Ripper. The strange, bible quoting gentleman with the deep seeded hatred of whores, who spends his days alone and spends his nights prowling the city for prey. Belloc Lowndes story went on to become a best selling novel and no less than three films have been based on it. One of these films, "The Lodger, a Story of the London Fog," was made by a young Alfred Hitchcock and is generally excepted as the first truly Hitchcockian film.

Mrs. Belloc Lowndes is supposed to have gotten the idea for this story by overhearing a snatch of dinner conversation wherein one guest was telling another that his mother's butler and cook claimed that had once rented rooms to Jack the Ripper. But the story of the lodger appears well before Mrs. Belloc Lowndes and, as recently put forward by Stewart Evans and Paul Gainey in their book, "The Lodger, The Arrest & Escape of Jack the Ripper" it may very well have more fact behind it than originally thought.

Prior to Belloc Lowndes the story had already been put forward by at least two people: Lyttleton Stewart, Forbes Winslow and the painter Walter Sickert. Both of these tales contain the same essential ideas and "facts" and suggest that the story had reached the level of urban myth within a few years of the Whitechapel murders.

Forbes Winslow was the son of a doctor who specialized in lunacy. He followed in his father's practice and became a leading alienist. In his memoir "Recollections of Forty Years," as quoted in Donald Rumbelow's "The Complete Jack the Ripper." he describes himself as a medical theorist and practical detective. A description not unlike that given to the medical doctor upon whom Conan Doyle based Sherlock Holmes.

Forbes Winslow became engrossed in the Whitechapel murders. "Day after day and night after night I spent in the Whitechapel slums. The detectives new me, the lodging house keepers new me, and at last the poor creatures of the streets came to know me. In terror they rushed to me with every scrap of information which might be of value. To me the frightened women looked for hope. In my presence they felt reassured, and welcomed me to their dens and obeyed my commands eagerly, and found the bits of information I wanted."

Using his experiences with those suffering from homicidal-religious mania and foreshadowing the modern practice of psychological profiling, he claims to have constructed an imaginary man whom he now set about to find.

In 1889 Forbes Winslow connected with a Finsbury Street lodging house keeper named Callaghan who told him of a former lodger, G. Wentworth Bell Smith, who had rented a large room from him in April 1888. According to Callaghan, Smith was a Canadian and he went on to describe him as 5' 10" tall, dark complexioned with a full mustache and beard worn closely cropped. He walked with a curious weak-kneed, splay-footed gait. Smith's dress and manners suggested a man of some gentility. Callaghan also said that Smith was multilingual and had a foreign appearance.

The landlord was told by Smith that he was in England on business and might stay an indefinite period of time. He requested and received a house key. Soon the landlord and his wife began to take notice of their tenants behavioral idiosyncrasies. He changed clothes several times a day, wearing a different suit and one of three pairs of rubber soled boots each time he went out. He kept three loaded revolvers in his room. He frequently railed against the women of the street and once filled fifty or sixty sheets of foolscap paper with his disgust for "dissolute women." These ramblings were punctuated with a mixture of morality and religion which he often read to his landlord.

On August 7, the night of the Martha Tabram murder, he arrived at his lodgings at 4:00 AM, explaining the lateness by claiming that his watch had been stolen in Bishopsgate, which later proved untrue. In the morning the maid found bloodstains on his bed and noticed that the cuffs of his shirt had recently been washed. Soon after Smith left his lodgings saying that he had to return to Canada, but it was known that he remained in England.

It was in August of 1889 that Callaghan, who had in the mean time moved, was told by a woman that she had been approached by a man in Worship Street who had offered her one pound to accompany him down a court. She refused, but soon after there had been another murder. The woman told Callaghan that she had recognized him as a man she had seen coming and going from Callaghans Lodgings in Finsbury Street. Callaghan immediately assumed it to be Smith and told this to Forbes Winslow. Since he perfectly matched the man Forbes Winslow had in mind, he knew he had his man.

According to Forbes Winslow's written story he went to the police with his information. He claimed that the man could be captured at Saint Paul's Cathedral, where he went ever day at 8:00 AM. He said that if the police would not cooperate with him he would publish his story. According to Forbes Winslow the police didn't cooperate and he published in the form of an interview in the New York Herald Tribune. In the interview he showed the reporter a pair of rubber soled, bloodstained boots saying they belonged to Jack the Ripper. (*We assume he had the boots from Callaghan.)

When the English press picked up the story Scotland Yard dispatched Chief Inspector Swanson to interview Forbes Winslow who immediately began to back-peddle. He said the story printed in the paper was not accurate and misrepresented the entire conversation between himself and the reporter. He claimed the reporter had tricked him into talking about the case. In truth, Forbes Winslow had never given any information to the police with the exception of an earlier theory of his involving an escaped lunatic. A theory which even Forbes Winslow had abandoned. He showed the boots to Swanson and they turned out to be canvas topped boots the tops of which were moth eaten and the molt of the moth still adhering to the tops. No bloodstains.

In "The Jack the Ripper A-Z" it is suggested by the authors that Smith was an agent of the Toronto Truss Company which had offices in Finsbury Street. He kept another office on Saint Paul Street. Eccentric as he may have been and resident in London at the time of the murders, there is nothing to connect him in any way with the murders. Indeed, at Five foot ten and fully bearded, he doesn't match either Mrs. Long's or Lawendes description of the murderer.

The second lodger story involves Walter Sickert, painter, and for better or worse now indelibly caught up in the Ripper myths. However, there is no royalty or masonic plots in this contribution bearing the Sickert name. Instead it involves the painter's claim that he knew the identity of the Ripper because he occupied his former rooms.

Sickert took lodgings in Mornington Crescent, Camden, in a house owned by an elderly couple. It was several years after the Ripper killings. It was they who told him that the previous occupant of the rooms was Jack the Ripper. He was a veterinary student with delicate looks and suffering from consumption. Again, this lodger was said to stay out all night and rush to buy the morning papers on the morning following the murders. They said he was in the habit of burning his clothes. Eventually his health began to fail and his mother returned him to Bournemouth where he died shortly there after.

They told Sickert his name which he supposedly wrote down in the margin of a copy of "Casanova's Memoirs" which he gave to Albert Rutherford. Unfortunately, Rutherford could not decipher Sickert's handwriting and the book was lost in the blitz.

As reported in "The Jack the Ripper A-Z" the tale takes another twist and seems to point at another well known suspect, Montague J. Druitt. Donald McCormick, author of "The Identity of Jack the Ripper," says that he was told the story by a London doctor. The unnamed doctor had been at Oxford with Montague Druitt's father. According to him the veterinary student's name was something like Druitt or Drewett or Hewett. McCormick also suggested that this story was told to Melville Macnaughten who, in his famous Memorandum wherein Druitt is named as a suspect, states that "from private info I have little doubt but that his own family believed him (Druitt) to be the murderer." McCormick suggests that this story may be the "private info."

Research by N. P. Warren, editor of "Ripperana, The Quarterly Journal of Ripperology" shows that the only student at the Royal Veterinary College whose name is close to Druitt is George Ailwyn Hewitt. Hewitt would have been 17 or 18 years old in 1888 and he died in 1908. Only one student who failed to follow a career beyond 1888 came from Bournemouth. His name was Joseph Ride who was 27 in 1888.

These two stories bear a great deal in common: the solitary and strange lodger whose habits slowly bring him under the suspicion of his landlord and landlady. The night-time wanderings, the unusual habits with clothing and the hatred of whores. They also share the dubious distinction of having been brought forward well after the Ripper murders stopped. Indeed, they are not the only two. Another with very similar sounding "facts" relates to a seaman from New Zealand (see Ripperana No.4, April 1993, pgs. 6-9).

Of the two stories, the Forbes Winslow story gives the initial impression of carrying a bit more weight. Unfortunately, a more careful examination doesn't bear this out. For one thing, he bases his finding on there having been more murders than are generally attributed to the Ripper. The murder reported by the woman to Callaghan to Forbes Winslow was that of Alice McKenzie which even at the time was considered a copycat (sic) murder. There is also evidence of considerable tampering with other evidence brought forward to support his story.

His work as an amateur detective is no different than that of countless others who descended on the East End during the murders. Why should we believe his success over any of the others? Forbes Winslow went on to embellish and change the story for the rest of his life.

There is little to reccomend either of these stories as a possible lead in identifying Jack the Ripper and they should be relegated to the realm of myths. But there is another lodger story which is contemporary with the murders, was reported in the newspapers of the day and, with the research done by Stewart Evans and Paul Gainey in their pursuit of the Littlechild Suspect, takes a much more important place in the story.

The story first appeared in The Globe of October 10, 1888.

DETECTIVES ON A NEW SCENT

"A well informed correspondent states that he has gleaned the following information from an undeniably authentic source, and from careful and persistent inquiries in various quarters he is able to relate the news fact, though for obvious reasons names and addresses are for the present suppressed: A certain member of the Criminal Investigation Department has recently journeyed to Liverpool and there traced the movements of a man which have proved of a somewhat mysterious kind. The height of this person and his description are generally ascertained, and among other things he was in possession of a black leather bag. This man suddenly left Liverpool for London, and for sometime occupied apartments in a well-known first class hotel in the West End. It is stated that for some reason or another this person was in the habit of 'slumming'. He would visit the lowest parts of London, and scour the slums of the East End. He suddenly disappeared from the hotel leaving a black leather bag and its contents, and has not yet returned. He left a small bill unpaid, and ultimately an advertisement appeared in The Times, setting forth the gentleman's name, and drawing forth attention to the fact that the bag would be sold under the Innkeeper's Act to defray expenses, unless claimed. This was done last month by a well-known auctioneer in London, and the contents, or some of them, are now in possession of the police, who are thoroughly investigating the affair. Of these we, of course, cannot more than make mention, but certain documents, wearing apparel, cheque books, prints of obscene description, letter, & c., are said to form the foundation of a most searching inquiry now afoot, which is being vigilantly pursued by those in authority. It has been suggested that the mysterious personage referred to landed in Liverpool from America, but this so far is no more than a suggestion."

Evans and Gainey suggest that this must have been written of October 9 and that the detectives must have been sent to Liverpool at the beginning of that week. This would be almost immediately following the 'Double Event.' Further information came forward over the next several days.

In an article dated October 13, the Suffolk Chronicle wrote "The steamers leaving Liverpool for America and other ports are now carefully watched by the police and passengers are closely scrutinized by detectives, there being an idea the perpetrator of the Whitechapel murders may endeavour to make his escape via Liverpool."

Just three days later a report in the Daily News, October 16 adds to the story:

"According to a Correspondent, the police are watching with great anxiety a house in the East-end which is strongly suspected to have been the actual lodging, or house made use of by someone connected with the East-end murders. Statement made by the neighbours in the district point to the fact that the landlady had a lodger, who since Sunday morning of the last Whitechapel murder has been missing. The lodger, it is stated, returned home early on the Sunday morning, and the landlady was disturbed by his moving about. She got up very early, and noticed that her lodger had changed some of his clothes. He told her he was going away for a little time, and asked her to wash his shirt which he had taken off, and get it ready for him by the time he came back. As he had been in the habit of going away now and then, she did not think much at the time, and soon afterwards he went out. On looking at his shirt she was astonished to find the wristbands and part of the sleeves saturated with blood. The appearance struck her as very strange, and when she heard of the murders here suspicions were aroused. Acting on the advise of some neighbours, she gave information to the police and showed them the bloodstained shirt. They took possession of it, and obtained from her a full description of her missing lodger. During the last fortnight she has been under the impression that he would return, and was sanguine that he would probably come back on Saturday or Sunday night, or perhaps Monday evening. The general opinion, however, among the neighbours is that he will never return. On finding out the house and visiting it, a reporter found it was tenanted by a stout, middle-aged German woman, who speaks very bad English, and who was not inclined to give much information further than the fact that her lodger had not returned yet, and she could not say where he had gone or when he would be back. The neighbours state that ever since the information has been given two detectives and two policemen have been in the house day and night. The house is approached by a court, and as there are alleys running through into different streets, there are different ways to approach and exit. It is believed from the information obtained concerning the lodgers former movements and his general appearance, together with the fact that numbers of people have seen this man about the neighbourhood, that the police have in their possession a series of important clues, and that his capture is only a question of time."

At this point Evans and Gainey put forward that the police had indeed found the East End base of the murderer. It appears that they had solid evidence connecting the lodger with the crimes, certainly the shirt being a significant clue. They also knew his identity. Conversely, their quarry now had to know that he was being searched for and was on the run.

Another press story suggests that the police were trying to play the events down and try to keep the press in the dark. This was a hallmark of the police-press relationship throughout the Whitechapel murders.

East Anglican Times, Wednesday, October 17:

" The startling story published Monday, with reference to the finding of a blood-stained shirt, and the disappearance of a man from a certain house in the East End, proves, from the investigation carried out by a reporter, on Tuesday, to be not altogether devoid of foundation, though on Monday afternoon the truth of the statement was given an unqualified denial by the detective officers, presumably because they were anxious to avoid a premature disclosure of the facts of which they had been for sometime cognizant. The police have taken exceptional precautions to prevent disclosure, and while repeated arrests have taken place with no other result than that of discharging the prisoners for the time in custody, they have devoted particular attention to one particular spot, in the hope that a few days would suffice to set at rest public anxiety as to further murders. Our reporter, on Tuesday, elicited the fact that from the morning of the Berner Street and Mitre Square murders, the police have had in their possession a shirt saturated with blood. Though they say nothing they are evidently convinced that it was left in a house on Blatty Street by the assassin.

Having regard to the position of this house, its proximity to the yard in Berner Street, where the crime was committed, and to the many intricate passages and alleys adjacent, the police theory has in all probability a basis in fact. The statement has been made that the landlady of the house was, at an early hour, disturbed by movements of her lodger, who changed some of his apparel, and went away after instructing her to wash the cast-off shirt. Although, for reasons known to themselves, the police, during Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, answered in the negative all questions as to whether any persons had been arrested, there is no doubt that a man was taken into custody on suspicion of being the missing lodger from 22 Batty Street, and that he was afterwards set at liberty.

The German lodging-house keeper could clear up the point as to the existence of any lodger absent from her house under the suspicious circumstances referred to, but she is not accessible and it is easy to understand that the police should endeavour to prevent her making any statement. From our own inquiries in various directions on Tuesday afternoon, a further development is very likely to take place."

Batty Street is one street east of Berner Street -- central to all the Ripper killings. The lodging house in question nearly backs up to Dutfield's Yard, scene of the Stride murder. Much of this has been previously overlooked because of a series of articles, possibly placed by the police through the Central News Agency, countered and played down the story.

Evans and Gainey conjecture that there was an increasing cover up by police surrounding this suspect. His name was Francis Tumblety, an American quack doctor and herbalist. He was in Whitechapel at the time of the murders. Although there is no absolute proof that Tumblety was the Blatty Street Lodger, there is a very strong circumstantial and conjectural case for it. He was arrested for "unnatural acts" during the period of the murders and was RELEASED ON BAIL! He fled, through Liverpool and finally made his way back to America where Scotland Yard continued the chase sending detectives to New York City where Tumblety once again gave them the slip.

Tumblety is a very strong suspect. That he was the preferred suspect of John J. Littlechild, Chief of CID Special Branch is weighty enough. His habits (it is reported that he kept a collection of uteruses in jars) and personality as put forward in Evans and Gainey's book appear to give him a psychological profile which makes him a potential candidate. Ongoing research regarding this suspect is underway.

Moreover, Tumblety again lends credence to a very likely "type" of suspect. Far from Royalty and the semi-famous or infamous, he puts forward the image of the quiet little man, ignored or barely noticed by those around him who takes his revenge on the society which he feels has unjustly alienated him by murdering strangers. Not unlike those people who, when they are arrested as serial killers are described for the evening news by their neighbours as "Him? Oh, he kept to himself and seemed harmless!"

Little Note From Me

I hope You enjoyed reading through this with information that i have based my suspects on. I will add more as things progress. (ie: The officers,Witnesses,The Ripper Letters, Official Documents, Press Reports, Victorian London, Ripper Media and Timelines Until i get that finished i hope what you read so far is as interesting to yourselves as it is me. Just out of interest is the reason i’m doing this as i have my own thoughts on the suspects that most people think it is. If i write down and document everything i read it is more understandable and you can find little bits in this whole document that just do not add up if you read thouroughly. Hope i kept you all busy for a while. J

Kat.

 

The Maybrick Diarys

Upon doing more of my research i have come across the so called diary of the ripper himself. Known as James Maybrick one of the suspects that has been under suspicion from the very start. I have included the so called diary of James Maybrick. You can decide for yourself and leave comments about what you think I will start with his History and so forth enjoy J

 James Maybrick

James Maybrick was a well known cotton merchant in Liverpool. The mysterious emergence of the so-called Maybrick journal in 1992 however, immediately thrust him to the forefront of credible Ripper suspects. Regardless of the Diary's authenticity, the story of James Maybrick is remarkable in its own right. Convicted of his murder in 1889, Maybrick's wife was sentenced to be hanged. The trial, by any standard, was a horrible travesty of justice. Within two years, the trial's presiding judge died in an insane asylum. Fifteen years later, Florence Elizabeth Maybrick was finally released from prison. Here is the remarkable story.The Maybrick family had been established in Liverpool for several generations when James was born to William and Susannah on October 24, 1838. Of James' six brothers, two never survived to adulthood. One brother, James, was his namesake and died in 1837 at the age of four months. Alfred Maybrick died at the age of four in 1848. Of the four remaining brothers, William became a carpenter and gilder's apprentice. Thomas, born in 1846, and Edwin, born in 1851, went into commerce and participated in the cotton business. One brother of note achieved considerable fame and success in his own right as a composer of popular music. Michael Maybrick, born in 1841, wrote such songs "The Holy City", "Nancy Lee", and "A Warrior Bold". He used the stage name Stephen Adams.

While the marriage of James Maybrick to Florence is well known and documented, Scottish lawyer William MacDougal alleged in 1891 the existence of a previous spouse. Although no marriage certificate has ever been found, the 1891 census records, released in 1992 after one hundred years, appear to confirm this allegation. Sarah Ann Robertson, listed as single and aged 44, was residing in London at the time. Other legal documents, however this same person as Sarah Ann Maybrick. In 1868, her step father's will, for example, shows her as "Sarah Ann Maybrick, wife of James Maybrick." Upon her death on January 17, 1927, she is listed in the records as "Sarah Ann Maybrick, otherwise Robertson." She lived for a while on Bromley Street, near Whitechapel, and on Mark Lane, across the road from Whitechapel. In all probability, James Maybrick's association with Sarah Ann lead to familiarity with the area where the Ripper murders occurred.

By 1871, census records James Maybrick was unmarried and back in London living with his mother. About two years later, he formed Maybrick and Company, Cotton Merchants with his brother Edwin as a junior partner. In 1874 James left for the thriving cotton port of Norfolk, Virginia to establish a branch office. This decision later proved to be a crucial turning point in the life of James Maybrick. Upon his return to England in the early spring of 1880, two significant changes had occurred.Three years after arriving in Norfolk, Maybrick contracted Malaria. After an initial but unsuccessful prescription of quinine, a second consisting of arsenic and strychnine was tried. Perhaps a bit bizarre by modern medical standards, it was not unheard of in the 1870's. "Fowler's Medicine" which contained arsenic, was a popular tonic at the time. Arsenic also appealed to James Maybrick because it was believed it increased virility. He was not alone however, for arsenic and strychnine abuse was becoming fashionable among professional men in both America and Britain. Arsenic is addictive, and overwhelming evidence suggests James Maybrick carried this habit to his grave.

On March 12, 1880, Maybrick departed New York aboard the SS Baltic. During the six day voyage to Liverpool, he was introduced to beguiling 18 year old Florence Chandler and her mother, Baroness Caroline von Roques. Florence, known as Florie, was a five foot three strawberry blonde with blue eyes. Born in Mobile, Alabama on September 3rd, 1862, she was related to important and influential figures in Southern society. Although Maybrick was 24 years her senior, a whirlwind romance immediately ensued. Upon their arrival in Liverpool, James and Florie had already planned a marriage for the following summer. The fashionable wedding took place on July 27, 1881, in London at St. James Church, Piccadilly.

Florie prematurely gave birth to a son, James Chandler, known affectionately as "Bobo", eight months after the wedding. In 1882, the Maybrick's returned to America with their infant. For the next two years, the family divided its time between Norfolk and Liverpool. Declining business opportunities prompted Maybrick to return to England in March of 1884. He formally resigned from the Norfolk Cotton Exchange on August 22nd, 1884. The family resided in Grassendale, a suburb of Liverpool. An economic slump however, also occurred in England that same year. Maybrick became increasingly distressed with health and financial worries. His use of arsenic and other "powders" continued.

On July 20th, 1886, Florie gave birth to a daughter, Gladys Evelyn. The birth of their second child did little to help the Maybrick's troubled marriage. It was rapidly deteriorating, despite the Maybrick's acceptance in Liverpool's social circles and an outward display of affluence. By this time, James had been showing signs of substance abuse for several years. In 1887 Florie discovered there was another woman in her husband's life, perhaps Sarah Ann Robertson, the original "Mrs. Maybrick." Later that same year, Florie met Alfred Brierly, a cotton broker, with whom she also had an affair. By this time, the couple had probably moved to separate beds, and the first Ripper murder was less than nine months away.

In about early March of 1888, the Maybrick's moved to the palatial Battlecrease House in Aigburth, less than a mile away. The estate consisted of several acres of well tended gardens, trees, a pond stocked with fish and a small natural stream. Despite their new home, the Maybrick's marital discord continued. James maintained his gloomy disposition, hypochondria and hot temper. Violence erupted on the night of March 29, 1989, which resulted in a black eye for Florie. About a month later on April 24th, Florie purchased a dozen fly papers, something she would no doubt regret for the rest of her life. Also on that same day, James obtained another one of his prescriptions as his heath continued to fail. More "medicine" arrived by package on the 26th, and the following day James Maybrick was seriously ill, apparently from an overdose of these substances.

From this point on, James Maybrick never regained his health. After seeing his doctor on May 3rd, he visited his office for the last time. Assuming the Diary is authentic, this would probably have been the time he made the final entry, which is dated that same day. Probably fearing the worst, Michael journeyed from London as his brother's health rapidly declined. At 8:40 p.m. on May 11, 1889, James Maybrick died.

Michael took charge of family matters after his brother's death, including the ailing Florence. Florie, even before James passed away, was already suspected of poisoning him. Although these suspicions lacked substance and based primarily upon rumor, Florie was confined her room at Battlecrease House and formally charged with the crime on the 14th. On May 30th, the body of James Maybrick was exhumed from its final resting place in Anfield Cemetery and examined for arsenic. On June 30th, Florie was brought before the Magistrate for the first time to hear the "evidence." James' brothers, servants and doctors all testified against her. On July 26th, the case was committed to trial scheduled to begin on the 31st of that month. It ended after seven days.

The trial was presided by Mr. Justice Fitzjames Stephen, father of J.K. Stephen, a Ripper suspect in his own right. By any standard, was a horrible travesty of justice. The evidence was based on suspicion, rumor and innuendo. Testimony was later recanted and crucial evidence favoring Florie either disappeared or remained unheard by the jury Surprisingly, James Maybrick's arsenic addiction was never introduced during the trial, and a blatantly biased Judge Justice Stephen repeatedly made inflammatory statements against the defendant.

Unfortunately for Florie, her inadequate legal counsel failed to produce essential evidence that could have exhonerated her. The prosecution alleged that Florie had obtained the arsenic from the fly papers she had purchased at the time of her husband's illness, yet no fly paper fibers had ever been found in the meat juice she was alleged to have used to poison him. Furthermore, it was later determined impossible to produce sufficient arsenic in suitable form to cause death from fly paper. Regardless of the fact there was simply no real hard evidence against Florie, the jury took only 35 minutes to deliberate. The verdict was Guilty! Justice Stephen assumed the full dress of the criminal Judge consisting of a black cap when he pronounced the following sentence:

"The court doth order you to be taken from hence to the place from whence you came, and thence to the place of execution, and that you be hanged by the neck until you are dead, and that your body be afterward buried within the precincts of the prison in which you shall be confined after your conviction. And may the Lord have mercy upon your soul!"

The sensational trial received considerable coverage on both sides of the Atlantic. Florie was not without her supporters however, and many prominent people appealed for her release, including three American presidents and Robert Todd Lincoln. Florie was a survivor, and endured not only the shadow of the gallows but sickness, solitary confinement and hard labor. Her ordeal lasted fifteen years, and in 1904 was finally released from prison. In an ironic twist of fate, the Maybrick case was to be Justice Stephen's last, and he died in 1894 in an insane asylum in Ipswitch. Florie however, lived on!

Initially upon her release, Florie went to a convent in Truro, Cornwall for six months. She then went to France to visit her mother before finally sailing home to America. In response to public demand for her story, she published her memoirs, entitled "My Fifteen Lost Years" in 1904. In 1907, Britain's Court of Criminal Appeal was introduced, primarily as a result the Maybrick case. In 1918, Florie was financially destitute and moved to Connecticut for employment as a housekeeper. The following year she purchased a small tract of land in Gaylordsville and had a three room cottage built.

By this time, Florie used her maiden name of Chandler in hopes it might help maintain her privacy. Although she seems to have enjoyed a certain level of anonymity in Connecticut, she became increasingly reclusive. Locally, she was known as the "Cat Lady". On October 23rd, 1941, Florence Elizabeth Chandler Maybrick was found dead at the age of 79. The report of her death once again made front page news one last time. She was buried in South Kent, Connecticut.

The story of James Maybrick was not associated with the Ripper case until the emergence of the diary in 1992. While the authenticity of the journal may be hotly debated, it nonetheless has yet to be proven a forgery. Whether it is real or a fake, it maintains remarkable constancy with the known facts. The diary also introduces what some would call startling evidence to support its authenticity .

 

 

Michael Barrett's Confessions January 5 1995 From a sworn affidavit: I MICHAEL BARRETT, make oath and state as follows:- That I am an Author by occupation and a former Scrap Metal Merchant. I reside alone at XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX, and at this time I am incapacitated due to an accident., for which I am attending Hospital as an out-patient. I have this day been informed that it may be neccessary (sic) for them to amputate two of the fingers on my right hand. Since December 1993 I have been trying, through the press, the Publishers, the Author of the Book, Mrs Harrison, and my Agent Doreen Montgomery to expose the fraud of ' The Diary of Jack the Ripper ' ("the diary"). Nobody will believe me and in fact some very influential people in the Publishing and Film world have been doing everything to discredit me and in fact they have gone so far as to introduce a new and complete story of the original facts of the Diary and how it came to light. The facts of this matter are outlined as follows:- I Michael Barratt (sic) was the author of the original diary of 'Jack the Ripper' and my wife, Anne Barrett, hand wrote it from my typed notes and on occasions at my dictation, the details of which I will explain in due course. The idea of the Diary came from discussion between Tony Devereux, Anne Barrett my wife and myself, there came I time when I believed such a hoax was a distinct possbility. We looked closely at the background of James Maybrick and I read everything to do with the Jack the Ripper matter. I felt Maybrick was an ideal candidate for Jack the Ripper. Most important of all, he could not defend himself. He was not 'Jack the Ripper' of that I am certain, but, times, places, visits to London and all that fitted. It was to (sic) easey (sic). I told my wife Anne Barrett, I said, "Anne I'll write a best seller here, we can't fail". Once I realised we could do it. We had to find the necessary materials, paper, pens and ink. I gave this serious consideration. Roughly round about January, February 1990 Anne Barrett and I finally decided to go ahead and write the Diary of Jack the Ripper. In fact Anne purchased a Diary, a red leather backed Diary for L25.00p, she made the purchase through a firm in the 1986 Writters Year Book, I cannot remember their name, she paid for the Diary by cheque in the amount of L25 which was drawn on her Lloyds Bank Account, Water Street Branch, Liverpool. When this Diary arrived in teh post I decided it was of no use, it was very small. My wife is now in possession of this Diary in fact she asked for it specifically recently when I saw her at her home address XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX At about the same time as all this was being discussed by my wife and I. I spoke to William Graham about our idea. This was my wifes father and he said to me, its a good idea, if you can get away with it and in fact he gave me L50 towards expences which I expected to pay at least for the appropriate paper should I find it. I feel sure it was the end of January 1990 when I went to the Auctioneer, Outhwaite & Litherland, XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX. It was about 11.30am in the morning when I attended the Auctioneers. I found a photograph Album which contained approximately, approximately (sic) 125 pages of phootgraphs. They were old photographs and they were all to do with teh 1914/1918 1st World War. This Album was part of lot No.126 which was for auction with a 'brass compass', it looked to me like a 'seaman's Compass', it was round faced with a square encasement, all of which was brass, it was marked on the face, North South, East and West in heavy lettering. I particularly noticed that the compass had no 'fingers'. When the bidding stated (sic) I noticed another man who was interested in the itmes (sic) he was smartly dressed, I would say in his middle forties, he was interested in the photographs. I noticed that his collar and tie were imaculate and I think he was a Military man. This man big up to L45 and then I bid L50 and the other man dropped out. At this stage I was given a ticket on which was marked the item number and the price I had bid. I then had to hand this ticket over to the Office and I paid L50. This ticked was stamped. I woman, slim build, aged about 35/40 years dealt with me and she asked me my name, which I gave as P Williams, XXXXXXXXXXXXX I think I gave the number as 47. When I was asked for details about me the name Williams arose because I purchased my house from a Mr P Williams, the road name I used is in fact the next street to my mums address, XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX. I then returned to the Auction Room with my stamped ticket and handed it over to an assistant, a young man, who gave me the Lot I had purchased. I was then told to return return (sic) my ticket to the Office, but I did not do this and left with the Photograph Album and Compass. When I got the Album and Compass home, I examined it closely, inside the front cover I noticed a makers stamp mark, dated 1908 or 1909 to remove this without trace I soaked the whole of the front cover in Linseed Oil, once the oil was absorbed by the front cover, which took about 2 days to dry out. I even used the heat from the gas oven to assist in the drying out. I then removed the makers seal which was ready to fall off. I then took a 'Stanley Knife' and removed all the photographs, and quite a few pages. I then made a mark 'kidney' shaped, just below centre inside the cover with the Knife. This last 64 pages inside the Album which Anne and I decided would be the Diary. Anne and I went to town in Liverpool and in Bold Street I bought three pens, that would hold fountain nibs, the little brass nibs. I bought 22 brass nibs at about 7p to 12p, a variety of small brass nibs, all from the 'Medice' art gallery. This all happened late January 1990 and on the same day that Anne and I bought the nibs we then decided to purchase the ink elsewhere and we decided to make our way to the Bluecoat Chambers, in fact we had a drink in the Empire Pub in Hanover Street on the way. Anne Barrett and I visited the Bluecoat Chambers Art shop and we purchased a small bottle of Diamine Manuscript ink. I cannot remember the exact price of the Ink. I think it was less than a pound. We were now ready to go and start the Diary. We went home and on the same evening that we had purchased everything, that is the materials we needed, We decided to have a practise run and we used A4 paper for this, and at first we tried it in my handwriting, but we realised and I must emphasie (sic) this, my handwriting was to (sic) disstinctive (sic) so it had to be in Anne's handwriting, after the practise run which took us approximately two days, we decided to go for hell or bust. I sat in the living room by the rear lounge window in the corner with my word processor, Anne Barrett sat with her back on to me as she wrote the manuscript. This pose was later filmed by Paul Feldman of MIA Productions Limited. Several days prior to our purchase of materials I had started to roughly outline the Diary on my word processor. Anne and I started to write the Diary in all it took us 11 days. I worked on the story and then I dictated it to Anne who wrote it down in the Photograph Album and thus we produced the Diary of Jack the Ripper. Much to my regret there was a witness to this, my young daughter Caroline. During this period when we were writing the Diary, Tony Devereux was house-bound, very ill and in fact after we completed the Diary we left it for a while with Tony being severly (sic) ill and in fact he died late May early June 1990. During the writing of the diary of Jack the Ripper, when I was dictating to Anne, mistakes occurred from time to time for example, Page 6 of the diary, 2nd paragraph, line 9 starts with an ink blot, this blot covers a mistake when I told Anne to write down James instead of thomas. The mistake was covered by the Ink Blot. Page 226 of the Book, page 20, centre page inverted commas, quote "TURN ROUND THREE TIMES, AND CATCH WHOM YOU MAY". This was from Punch Magazine, 3rd week in September 1888. The journalist was P.W. WENN. Page 228 of the book, page 22 Diary, centre top verse large ink blot which covers the letter 's' which Anne Barrett wrote down by mistake. Page 250 book, page 44 Diary, centre page, quote: "OH COSTLY INTERCOURSE OF DEATH". This quotation I took from SPHERE HISTORY OF LITERATURE, Volume 2 English Poetry and Prose 1540-1671, Ediated by Christopher Ricks, however, Anne Barrett made a mistake when she wrote it down, she should have written down 'O' not 'OH'. Page 184 in Volume 2 referrs (sic). When I disposed of the photographs from the Album by giving them to William Graham, I kept one back. This photograph was of a Grave, with a Donkey standing nearby. I had actualy written the "Jack the Ripper Diary" first on my word processor, which I purchased in 1985, from Dixons in Church Street, Liverpool City Centre. The Diary was on two hard back discs when I had finished it. The Discs, the one Photograph, the compass, all pens and the remainder of the ink was taken by my sister Lynn Richardson to her home address, XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX. When I asked her at a later date for the property she informed me that after an article had appeared in the Daily Post, by Harold Brough, she had destroyed everything, in order to protect me. When I eventually did the deal with Robert Smith he took possession of the Diary and it went right out of my control. There is little doubt in my mind that I have been hoodwinked or if you like conned myself. My inexperience in the Publishing game has been my downfall, whilst all around me are making money, it seems that I am left out of matters, and my Solicitors are now engaged in litigation. I have even had bills to cover expenses incurred by the author of the book, Shirley Harrison. I finally decided in November 1993 that enough was enough and I made it clear from that time on that the Diary of Jack the Ripper was a forgery, this brought a storm down on me, abuse and threats followed and attacks on my character as Paul Feldman led this attack, because I suppose he had the most to gain from discrediting me. Mr. Feldman became so obsessed with my efforts to bare the truth of the matter, that he started to threaten me, he took conttrol (sic) of my wife who left me and my child and he rang me up continuously threatening and bullying me and telling me I would never see my family again. On one occasion people were banging on my windows as Feldman threatened my life over the phone. I became so frightened that I sort (sic) the help of a Private Detective Alan Gray and complaints were made to the Police which I understand are still being pursued. It was about 1st week in December 1994 that my wife Anne Barrett visited me, she asked me to keep my mouth shut and that if I did so I could receive a payment of L20,000 before the end of the month. She was all over me and we even made love, it was all very odd because just as quickley (sic) as she made love to me she threatened me and returned to her old self. She insisted Mr Feldman was a very nice Jewish man who was only trying to help her. My wife was clearly under the influence of this man Feldman who I understand had just become separated from his own wife. It seemed very odd to me that my wife who had been hidden in London for long enough by Feldman should suddenly re-appear and work on me for Mr Feldman. I have now decided to make this affidavit to make the situation clear with regard to the Forgery of the Jack the Ripper Diary, which Anne Barrett and I did in case anything happenes (sic) to me. I would hate to leave at this stage the name of Mr. Maybrick as a tarnished serial killer when as far as I know, he was not a killer. I am the author of the Manuscript written by my wife Anne Barrett at my dictation which is known as The Jack the Ripper Diary. I give my name so history do tell what love can do to a gentleman born, Yours Truly -- Michael Barrett. Sworn at Liverpool in the                            (Signed) County of Merseyside, this 5th day of January 1995.                      Before me:  (Signed)                                           A Solicitor Empowered to Administer Oaths   D.P. HARDY & CO.,         Imperial Chambers, XXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Michael Barrett's Confessions
January 25 1995

From a sworn affidavit:

Thursday 26th January 1995

MICHAEL BARRETT will say:-

Further to my statement of the 23rd January 1995, I have since contacted the Police and I am told that the Crime No is 16391.J.95.CR.001, and that this Invetigation (sic) has now been allocated to a Detective at Copperas Hill Police Station on 'A' Block.

At this time I am staying at an address that is only known to Mr Gray because this matter is becoming very serious, I have already had threats, my home attacked, and all this is ledged with the Police, also my phone wires were cut and now I have been beaten up, perhaps when they find me dead one day they might take me seriously.

On Wednesday 18th January 1995 when they all called at my home I was pressurised by them. Feldman's man Skinner came earlier than the others and started a tape recording off and my very words at the begining (sic) were, "FELDMAN YOU BASTARD GO AND GET FUCKED, BECAUSE YOU ARE A BLOODY BIG MAN WITH A HELL OF A LOT OF MONEY AND AS FAR AS I AM CONCERNED, I WILL NEVER GIVE INTO YOU. I REFUSE TO BE BLACKMAILED". The tape carried on as the other three people arrived, Mrs Harrison, Sally Emmy, and a man who said, "he was an Independent Adviser'. I made reference on Tape that the hatred between Ann Barrett and I must stop. The Independent Advisor never said a word, but the others made it clear to me that if the 'Diary of Jack the Ripper' is genuine I would get my money in June 1995, however due to my Solicitor advising me some time before this meeting, that I had been granted legal aid to take Shirley Harrison to Court, along with Robert Smith and that if I stay quiet I would get my money, so this being the case I decided to collaboarate with these people and Anne's story by supporting the Diary., much to my regret but at the time I did not know what to do.

I was also afraid that if Anne and I get arrested for fraud what would happen to our daughter. I did not know who the Independent Advisor was and I felt a serious threat to me either through the Law or if I did'nt (sic) conform personal injury maybe. My wife has for the past 12 months kept my daughter away from me and used her to threaten me and blackmail me that I will not see her again if I don't co-operate.

Paul Feldman in June 1994 contacted me by telephone and I quote him "BARRETT I WILL FUCKIN GAURANTEE (sic) I WILL DESTROY YOU AND YOU WILL NOT SEE YOU (sic) WIFE AND DAUGHTER, EVER AGAIN".

This is the type of pressure I have been under and there is no doubt in my mind that Paul Feldman in particular wants me dead.

I should inform you that I actually worked as a Barman in the Post House Public House about 7 years ago and I gained a full know-ledge of the history of the old pub, and I decided when writing the Diary that I would put the name Post House in knowing full well that it had been called the 'Muck Midden' in the 1800's. This fact could actually be established and in particularly by me should I later need to prove what I had done.

I am ready now should it be necessary to speak to the Detectives from Scotland Yard who saw me some time ago., Detective Thomas.

When writing the Diary Devereux was a tremendous help to Anne and I but we did not go to anyone else for advice in the matter.

I know its old hat and I am sick of trying to convince people about it but the truth is I wrote the Diary of Jack the Ripper and my wife Anne Barrett transcribed it onto the old photograph Album.

I should also mention that because of personal injury to my right hand and arm I now sign as best I can with my left hand.

Signed: M. Barrett (practically illegible)

Taken by me at the dictation of Mr. Barret: (Signature)

Photographs of the Maybrick Grave

The following information is courtesy of Colin Lloyd, who has visited the Maybrick grave in England:

The gravestone is a family plot, the people buried there are

1. William Maybrick (father)
2. Susanna Maybrick (mother)
3. James Maybrick 
4. Edwin Maybrick (brother)

The grave is located in Anfield Cemetery in Liverpool.

The damage to the grave which was totally smashed in two pieces in late July was I believe because of the recent TV documentary broadcast in England. This has renewed interest in the case and also renewed the interest of certain sick people who take pleasure in damaging the headstone. It has now been repaired but obtaining a decent rubbing from it would now be difficult.

Florence Maybrick

Introduction

Whether or not her husband was, in fact, Jack the Ripper, Florie Maybrick herself holds a certain notoriety in the annals of crime history. Even before the emergence of the infamous diary, her trial was the subject of many volumes of work, mostly pertaining to the allegations of gross incompetence and negligence displayed throughout the trial by the presiding Justice Stephen. Found guilty, sentenced to death, having had her sentence commuted to life imprisonment only days before her execution, and finally having been released after fifteen years, her story is a fascinating one in and of itself, and should be just as appealing to any crime historian as the story of the man her husband allegedly claimed to have been.

Prelude to the Trial

Florence Maybrick

As a result of his business, James Maybrick was often required to travel abroad to America to conduct transactions. On one such trip in 1881, he came across the path of a Florence Elizabeth Chandler and the two quickly married. He was twenty-four years her senior: he forty-two and she eighteen.

The daughter of a banker in Mobile Alabama, Florence (or Florie as she preferred) was the archetypal Southern Belle -- she was often described as being quite pleasing to the eye, but her love of luxuries was more often destructive to her husband's pocket. They moved to Liverpool in 1884 and were frequently known to throw lavish parties at which she would most often be the focus of attention. Such practices took their toll, however, and in 1887 James Maybrick admitted to his wife that they were in severe financial trouble. He placed her on a strict budget, but Florie reverted to borrowing against her jewelry and expected land inheritance in America in order to maintain her lavish lifestyle in the shops and at the racetrack. In a letter to her mother written in that year she writes:

I am utterly worn out, and in such a state of overstrained nervousness I am hardly fit for anything. Whenever the doorbell rings I feel ready to faint for fear it is someone coming to have an account paid, and when Jim comes home at night it is with fear and trembling that I look into his face to see whether anyone has been to the office about my bills... my life is a continual state of fear of something or somebody... Is life worth living? I would gladly give up the house tomorrow and move somewhere else but Jim says it would ruin him outright.

Financial difficulties, however, were only the beginning. In that same year, their son James contracted scarlet fever and barely survived the ordeal. As a result, their daughter Gladys was sent away so as not to catch the disease. Also, Florie's brother Holbrook died in Paris, supposedly of consumption. And to top it off, Florie began noticing her own husband's failing health, as well as some strange powders lying around the house. It wasn't long until she discovered her husband's dangerous drug habit involving arsenic and strychnine use (both of which were used in moderation as wonder tonics and aphrodisiacs).

Such behavior wasn't uncommon in Victorian England, but as with any drug addiction, it was looked upon with disdain and mistrust. Maybrick himself disclosed his using of the drugs to a few friends and acquaintances, telling one of his associates around 1883, "You would be horrified, I dare say, if you knew what this (powder) is -- it is arsenic... We all take some poison more or less; for instance, I am now taking arsenic enough to kill you. I take this arsenic once in a while because I find it strengthens me." When he learned that his wife had disclosed his abuse to one of his brothers, however, he became quite angry and ordered her to "mind her own business."

One final blow that came to Florie in that same year was her discovery that James Maybrick was allotting the sum of over one hundred pounds per year to a mistress he had been keeping for the past twenty or so years. When she confronted him about the fact, he seemed impassionate and showed very little compunction. From then until the death of James Maybrick, the couple slept in separate chambers.

In the autumn of 1888, Florie Maybrick extracted her own measure of revenge against her husband by turning her attention toward a younger cotton broker named Alfred Brierly. She herself began an affair, but was more easily discovered than her husband, for it is suspected that he discovered the infidelity in December of that year. According to Florie in a letter written to her mother, he violently tore up his will which bestowed everything upon her and vowed to make their children the sole recipients. It is speculation, however, that this was because Maybrick discovered his wife's affair -- it very well might have been a number of other things.

The reason her affair might have been discovered so easily was the simple fact that she was so shamelessly open about it (a fact which leads many to conclude that the affair was motivated more by revenge than by any corporeal desire). In March 1889, she booked a hotel room for her and Brierly under the names "Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Maybrick," her brother- and sister-in-law. As Hartman writes in Victorian Murderesses, this act was propelled either by "monumental stupidity or blatant calculation." For on the one hand it would seem a terrible mistake to use the name of the brother of her husband, unless of course the entire incident was an attempt (remember her motivation of revenge) to elicit a response from her husband, perhaps even for him to file for a divorce. Regardless, Maybrick didn't mention anything that would lead anyone to believe he knew about the incident.

Later that month, however, Maybrick's knowledge of the entire affair became quite apparent. At a gathering at the Grand National steeplechase, Maybrick made a scene when Florie walked off for a moment with Brierly. Later that night, at home in Battlecrease, the home lived up to it's belligerent name. The couple had an intense falling out, and the topic of infidelity was risen by both of them. When Florie threatened to leave the house, Maybrick grabbed her, ripping her dress, and blackened her eye. The servants then intervened, and with the help of a family friend and doctor, the couple reconciled their differences. Maybrick agreed to pay off her debts in total and she agreed to break all relations with Brierly.

Neither fulfilled their obligations, however. Soon after that incident, Maybrick became quite ill, and his condition was quite serious by the end of April. He complained of headaches and of a coldness in the limbs, and in the weeks of late April and early May abdominal and gastrointestinal problems began to arise. Doctors were called in from all over London, prescribing countless drugs and tonics in order to ameliorate his condition.

A little earlier (in about mid-April) Florie purchased a good number of flypapers and proceeded to soak them in a sink. She claimed to have had "an eruption of the face," and wanted to extract the arsenic from the flypaper in order to formulate a facial cream which would clear up the problem in time for a ball she was attending in late April. Indeed, arsenic was a common home remedy for skin problems, but it was difficult to come by the poison -- a common practice was to soak flypaper in order to extract it. The entire staff of Battlecrease noticed the soaking papers, as Florie made no moves to hide them.

Maybrick's condition continued to worsen throughout the first few days of May and throughout Florie was by his side. Between her nervous attitude throughout the ordeal, her soaking of the flypapers, and the recent events concerning Brierly, suspicion began to arise among the nurse (Alice Yapp) that Florie was poisoning him. So on May 8th, after being informed by Yapp, a friend of the Maybricks' named Mrs. Briggs telegraphed to both brothers Michael and Edwin, "Come at once; strange things going on here." That same day, Florie (still unaware of the rising suspicion) handed Alice Yapp a letter to be posted, addressed, "A. Brierly, Esq." Instead of doing so, she opened it and read the contents, immediately divulging the information to Michael Maybrick. Upon reading the letter, Michael ordered no one but the nurses to wait upon his brother, and finally Florie began to realize the rising suspicion growing around her.

The letter was in answer to one received two days earlier from Brierly, which read:

My Dear Florie -- I suppose now you have gone I am safe in writing to you. I don't quite understand what you mean in your last about explaining my line of action. You know I could not write, and was willing to meet you, although it would have been very dangerous. Most certainly your telegram yesterday was a staggerer, and it looks as if the result was certain, but as yet I cannot find an advertisement in any London paper.

I should like to see you, but at the present dare not move, and we had better perhaps not meet until late in the autumn. I am going to try and get away in about a fortnight. I think I shall take a round trip to the Mediterranean, which will take six or seven weeks, unless you wish me to stay in England. Supposing the rooms are found, I think both you and I would be better away, as the man's memory would be doubted after three months. I will write and tell you when I go. I cannot trust myself at present to write about my feelings on this unhappy business, but I do hope that some time hence I shall be able to show you that I do not quite deserve the strictures contained in your last two letters. I went to the D. and D., and, of course, heard some tales, but myself knew nothing about anything. And now, dear, "Good-bye," hoping we shall meet in the autumn. I will write to you about sending letters just before I go.

A.B.

The letter which was intercepted by Nurse Yapp (sent from Florie to Alfred Brierly) reads:

Dearest -- Your letter under cover to John K. came to hand just after I had written to you on Monday. I did not expect to hear from you so soon, and had delayed in giving him the necessary instructions. Since my return I have been nursing M. day and night. He is sick unto death. The doctors held a consultation yesterday, and now all depends upon how long his strength will hold out. Both my brothers-in-law are here, and we are terribly anxious. I cannot answer your letter fully to-day, my darling, but relieve your mind of all fear of discovery now and in the future. M. has been delirious since Sunday, and I know now that he is perfectly ignorant of everything, even of the name of the street, and also that he has not been making any inquiries whatever. The tale he told me was a pure fabrication, and only intended to frighten the truth out of me. In fact he believes my statement, although he will not admit it. You need not therefore go abroad on that account, dearest; but, in any case, please don't leave England until I have seen you once again. You must feel that those two letters of mine were written under circumstances which must even excuse their injustice in your eyes. Do you suppose that I could act as I am doing if I really felt and meant what I inferred then? If you wish to write to me about anything do so now, as all the letters pass through my hands at present. Excuse this scrawl, my own darling, but I dare not leave the room for a moment, and I do not know when I shall be able to write to you again. In haste, yours ever.

Florie

The next morning (May 9th) Florie approached Alice Yapp and said, "Do you know that I am blamed for this?" The nurse replied, "For what?," to which Florie answered, "For Maybrick's illness." This is the first incident in which Florie lets on that she is aware of the suspicion growing around her. Later that day, the food and water, as well as the feces and urine of the patient were taken away and examined by doctors for traces of arsenic. They found none.

That night, however, the incident of the meat juice occurred. Edwin (Maybrick's brother) had procured the juice as a pharmaceutical and the nurses were under orders to administer it to the patient. Around midnight, Nurse Gore was waiting on Maybrick when Florie entered the room and took a bottle of Valentine's meat juice into the washroom where she was sleeping. She closed the door behind her, and emerged some minutes later, returning to the sick room and requesting that Nurse Gore leave to get some ice to cool her husband's forehead. The nurse refused and observed Mrs. Maybrick "surreptitiously" placed the bottle of meat juice on the nightstand. The bottle was taken away the next day at the urging of Nurse Gore and doctors found half a grain of arsenic in the juice.

On Friday the 10th, Michael Maybrick saw Florie moving medicine from one small bottle to a larger one. He protested, "Florie, how dare you tamper with the medicine?," to which she replied that there was too much sediment in the small bottle so she moved it into a larger bottle so that it could be shaken up properly. The bottle was later analyzed, however, and no traces of arsenic were found. Later that day, Nurse Callery over heard Maybrick say to his wife, "You have given me the wrong medicine again." Florie replied, "What are you talking about? You never had wrong medicine." Around six that evening, Maybrick was heard to have said three times, "Oh, Bunny, Bunny, how could you do it? I did not think it of you!" Florie replied simply, "You silly old darling, don't trouble your head about things."

That night, a search was made of the house primarily by the Maybrick brothers and the domestics in order to find some evidence of Mrs. Maybrick's guilt. Alice Yapp found a sealed envelope labelled "Arsenic -- poison for cats," as well as five bottles, a container of Valentine's meat juice, a rag, a glass, and a handkerchief. The first contained large amounts of arsenic, while the others carried either small or trace amounts -- enough arsenic was found in that house, it is said, to have killed fifty people (two grains being enough to kill one man).

By Saturday, May 11th, it became painfully clear that Maybrick would not survive the night. Florie had fallen into a swoon that afternoon which would last another twenty-four hours -- she would be bed-ridden until the 18th. By the time she had regained consciousness, her husband was dead.

On the 13th, a post-mortem was held in which it was concluded that death was "due to inflammation of the stomach and bowels set up by some irritant poison." On the 14th, Florie, still lying ill in bed, was informed that she was in custody under suspicion of murder. Frightened and confused, Florie complained to Mrs. Briggs that she had no money with which to contact her friends. She replied, "in sarcasm," that she should write to Brierly. Florie took the suggestion at face value and wrote to him immediately, saying:

I am writing to you to give me every assistance in your power in my present fearful trouble. I am in custody, without any of my family with me, and without money. I have cabled to my solicitor in New York to come here at once. In the meantime, send some money for present needs. The truth is known about my visit to London. Your last letter is in the hands of the police. Appearances may be against me, but before God I swear I am innocent.

The letter never reached Brierly, and, like the previous one, ended up in the hands of the police. On the 18th, a magistrate visited Florence at Battlecrease and opened an investigation, at the end of which he ordered her to be removed to Walton Jail. At the inquest on the 28th, Florie was represented by Mr. William Pickford, barrister.

The Inquest and Hearing

The official coroner's inquest began on May 14th, and was adjourned to the 28th after formal identification of the body. The hearing heard evidence from the chemists who sold Mrs. Maybrick the flypapers, and testimony from the nurses and servants, as well as that of a certain Mrs. Samuelson. This witness mysteriously disappeared before the trial, but she presented testimony at the inquest that Mrs. Maybrick told her she hated her husband about two weeks before the incident at Grand National steeplechase.

The Trial of Florence Maybrick

Judge: Justice James Fitzjames Stephen, K.C.S.I.

Counsel for the Crown: Mr. John Addison, Mr. W.R. McConnell, Mr. Thomas Swift

Counsel for the Prisoner: Sir Charles Russell, Mr. William Pickford

Prisoner: Florence Elizabeth Maybrick

"Florence Elizabeth Maybrick, aged twenty-six, was indicted for having, on the 11th of May, feloniously, wilfully, and of her malice aforethought, killed and murdered one James Maybrick.

Jurors

Thomas Wainwright (foreman)
T. Ball
A. Harrison
W. Walmsley
W.H. Gaskell
J. Taylor
G.H. Welsby
R.G. Brook
J.W. Sutton
J. Tyrer
J. Bryers
J. Thierens

The Trial of Florence Maybrick

July 31st, 1889

Mr. John Addison Q.C., M.P.

May it please your lordship -- Gentlemen of the jury, it is my duty, in conjunction with my learned friends, to lay before you evidence in support of the indictment you have just heard read, and to make a statement to you from that evidence in regard to the facts upon which they rely on behalf of the prosecution. Each and every one of you know that the charge against the prisoner at the bar is that she murdered her husband by administering to him doses of arsenic, and it would be idle in me to suppose that each and every one of you do not know some of the circumstances of the case either by means of the Press or in other ways, and that probably you have discussed the matter, but I know equally well that now ---

Sir Charles Russell leans across and whispers to Mr. Addison, who nods his head in agreement. It has been suggested to me, and probably it is right, that, except the scientific witnesses, all the witnesses be requested to leave the Court.

Justice Stephen: I understand that all arrangements have been made for their comfort.

All witnesses save Mr. Michael Maybrick are lead out of the courtroom

I was saying, when I corrected myself, as it were, that it would be idle in me to suppose that each and every one of you were not acquainted to a very considerable degree with the facts of the case, either from seeing the case, or hearing it, or reading of it in the public prints; but I know perfectly well that now you have ceased to be irresponsible members of the community, and are a jury who are sworn to decide the case according to the law between the prisoner and the Crown, you will have no difficulty whatever in dismissing from your minds all that you have so heard and seen. Even the statement I am about to make to you is only intended to enable you -- and I hope it may enable you -- the more readily to know the evidence we are going to call, and to follow it when we call it. There is no other fact whatsoever. It is upon the evidence, and upon the evidence alone, and upon the impression that it makes upon your minds, who are the true judges of this case, that the issue must depend. The prosecution have a simple duty to perform. We have by means of that evidence to produce in your minds a firm and clear conviction that this woman is guilty. If when you have heard the evidence, when you have heard it sifted and criticized and analyzed by my friend Sir Charles Russell; when you have heard other evidence called by him to vary and contradict it; if at the end of the patient attention you give to this evidence you find your minds in doubt and hesitation, or even discussion amongst yourselves that you are not able to remove, then we shall have failed in the duty incumbent upon us, and in what we are bound to do before we can ask your verdict for the Crown. We shall have failed in that, and it will be undoubtedly your duty to give the benefit of this strong hesitation and doubt to the prisoner at the bar.

With these hardly necessary words of introduction, let me tell you what the facts are, as upon my present information I understand them. James Maybrick, the husband of this woman, whose death she is charged with causing, belonged to a Liverpool family and was a native of Liverpool. He was in the cotton business either as a broker or as a merchant, and in the earlier part of his career seems to have been called a good deal to America, his business connection being between America and Liverpool, and it was in this way, in 1881, and either in America or coming home from America, he made the acquaintance of the prisoner at bar, who is of American family and by birth an American, and they were married in London in July, 1881. For some time after their marriage he still was taken a good deal away to America; but, about four or five years ago, he settled, so to speak, permanently in Liverpool, carrying on his business entirely here, and having an office in the Knowsley Buildings, which is somewhere off Tithebarn Street. Of the marriage there were two children; there is a boy of seven years of age and there is a girl of three years of age. After settling permanently in Liverpool he lived somewhere in the neighborhood, but about some two or three years ago he went to live with his wife and family at a place called Battlecrease House, which is a place at Aigburth or Garston, or in the neighborhood of Aigburth. From and at the beginning of this year and during the last year he lived there with his wife and two children, and the remainder of his household, consisting of four of a family and servants. There was a nurse who had lived longer with, and was more connected with, the master and mistress than any of the other servants, by name Alice Yapp. There was a housemaid of the name of Brierly, a cook of the name of Humphreys, and a housemaid waitress of the name of Cadwallader. These four servants, with the master and mistress and two children, constituted the inmates of Battlecrease House. At the time of his death Mr. Maybrick was a man of about forty-nine or fifty years of age. His wife was younger, being somewhere between twenty-seven and thirty years of age. I do not accurately know what her age was, but she was about that. I do not think I need call your attention to anything particular in their mode of living up to this time.

Mr. Maybrick was a man who, so far as his friends and relations knew, was a strong and healthy man, going regularly to his office every day, as a cotton broker in Liverpool. There was no doubt that though he was a man generally spoken of as a healthy man, he was a man who complained very much about his liver and nerves. He used often to complain of being out of sorts; and, from 1881, Dr. Hopper, of Rodney Street, who was the medical attendant of the family, prescribed for him from time to time. Mr. Maybrick complained of pains in the head and of numbness in his limbs. This numbness he seems to have complained of more than once, and he seemed to have a sort of dread that it would lead to paralysis. Dr. Hopper seems to have treated him as a little short-hipped, as it was called in these matters, and gave him occasionally medicines, such as were given to people of sedentary habits, and out of sorts. Mr. Maybrick had three brothers -- Mr. Michael Maybrick, who, I believe, was and is a distinguished musician in London; there is a brother Thomas, a shipping agent, carrying on his business in Manchester; and Edwin, who is a cotton merchant in Liverpool, living in Rodney Street, but who passes half his time in America -- dividing his time between Liverpool and America. Dr. Hopper will tell you how from time to time he used to give Mr. Maybrick nerve tonics, having the usual ingredients of such tonics, and including nux vomica and homeopathic doses of strychnine and medicine of that kind, and will further tell you that, with the exception of that, he never knew Mr. Maybrick to be ill during the eight years since the marriage. His brothers, all three, speak of him as a healthy and strong man; and in addition to them you will have before you the two clerks in the office. One (Smith, the bookkeeper) had been with him about four years, and he will tell you that he occasionally complained of his liver, and discusses homeopathy. Lowry, the other man in the office, will speak to the same effect; and you will find that he was undoubtedly one of those men who, as people suffering in this way often are, was fond of discussing his ailments very freely, and listening to other people as to what they did with their ailments in adopting pills and doses, and often attended very much to the recommendations they would make. I have tried to tell you all that he ever suffered from, as far as we know, apart from that which we are going to investigate. With regard to the servants who lived in the house, including the nurse, they knew nothing about these matters. They considered their master a healthy and strong man, going regularly to his office -- a regular condition of things up to the end of last year and the beginning of this, to which I need not now go back.

The first date in connection with this case to which we may have to draw your attention is the 16th March in this year, and all through this case, when you are watching the evidence, I should ask you, as a very convenient note to yourselves, to follow closely, as it were, the different occurrences that occurred from time to time. Upon the 16th March, Mrs. Maybrick had to telegraph to London to a hotel in Henrietta Street, Cavendish Square, for a sitting-room and bedroom. You will have before you the letters which she wrote, and which will be put in evidence. The effect of them is this -- On the 16th March she telegraphed for a sitting-room and bedroom at this private hotel. Having received no answer, she wrote again to the landlord, and told him that the rooms were engaged for Mrs. Maybrick, of Manchester, and she wrote again as to details as to the sort of dinner which "Mr. and Mrs. Maybrick" would like to have, saying that her "sister-in-law" was inexperienced in such matters. On the 18th March (Monday) she wrote again to this hotel, saying that Mr. and Mrs. Maybrick would arrive on the 21st (Thursday), that her sister-in-law would stay there a week -- from the 21st to the 28th -- and that "she was not particular as to price." You have her then writing these letters from the 16th to the 18th March, engaging this sitting-room and bedroom for her "sister-in-law." On the 21st March (Thursday) she left Battlecrease House to go to London. You will find that in the evidence which occurs later on, and the reason she gave her husband for going to London was that she had an aunt who was going to undergo an operation under the care of Sir James Paget, and the aunt wanted her niece -- that was herself -- to be present, and she was going to London for a week for this purpose. This she told the nurse Yapp, and her letters were to be directed to the Grand Hotel, London. Having done that, she went straight to London to this place. She arrived there on Thursday, the 21st of last March, at about one o'clock; and at about half-past six a gentleman, whose name we do not know, but who never appears again as far as we know anything about him in this case, came and fetched her. And they went away together in a cab, and at eleven at night, when the waiter went to bed, he saw they had not returned. That was on the 21st. But, however that may be, the next morning she was undoubtedly at breakfast with a Liverpool gentleman, a cotton broker, living in Huskisson Street here, whose name cannot possibly be kept out of the case, a gentleman named Brierly. She was found with him on Friday, the 22nd, and on Saturday, the 23rd. They lived there together as man and wife, slept together, and went out together; and on the Sunday -- you will remember she took rooms for a week -- about one o'clock they unexpectedly left together, he paying the bill. Gentlemen, what she did for the rest of the week until Thursday, the 28th, when she was timed to come home, I do not know. But on the 28th of March (Thursday), exactly a week after she had gone away to London, she returned to Battlecrease House.

The next day, the 29th of March, the Grand National was run near Liverpool, and both she and her husband went there. He came back at seven o'clock at night, and it was evident to his servants that there had been a quarrel between them. She followed ten minutes after him. He began nursing the youngest child, without speaking to her or she to him. Presently a cab was sent for, as if she was going away; and then the servants heard him say, "Such a scandal as this will be all over Liverpool to-morrow." She went down to the hall with her hat on, apparently waiting for the cab; and then he was heard to say, "If you once leave this house, you will never enter it again." A sort of quarrel was going on, but the nurse but her arm around the prisoner's waist and coaxed her upstairs; and, as the prisoner and her husband were evidently not on speaking terms, she made up a bed for her in the dressing-room, which adjoins the bedroom, where she slept that night.

On Saturday, the 30th March, early in the morning, Mrs. Maybrick went to see and old friend of the family, Mrs. Briggs, who had known them both since they were married. Mrs. Maybrick went undoubtedly with the intention of getting a separation from her husband. She complained to Mrs. Briggs, and said that her husband had complained of her because at the Grand National Meeting, in spite of his orders, she had left the carriage to go with Mr. Brierly. She said, further, that she had quarrelled with her husband, and that he had hit her on the eye and had given her a black eye. Mrs. Briggs did what she could to settle matters. The two went to Dr. Hopper, and the prisoner there repeated what she had told Mrs. Briggs. He persuaded her not to try a separation, but she said she could not bear her husband to come near her. They afterwards went to Mrs. Briggs' solicitor, and then there was a similar conversation, after which the prisoner and Mrs. Briggs went to the post office, and there the former desired to have a separate letter box. She afterwards returned home, and Dr. Hopper a short time afterwards, acting both in his capacity of medical adviser and as a friend of the family, came up to try to make peace. He heard from Mr. Maybrick what his complaints were, and then he went to Mrs. Maybrick, and they discussed the case together, the husband at the time making a complaint of her going off with Brierly at the Grand National against his wishes. That was all the husband knew about the matter. At that time the prisoner owed 1200 pounds, and Dr. Hopper, acting as the peacemaker, succeeded, so far as he could judge, in making matters up between them, Mr. Maybrick undertaking to pay off those debts; and from what passed on the 1st of April between Mr. and Mrs. Maybrick and the doctor, the latter was left to infer that the quarrel had been made up.

Now, gentlemen, that brings us to the end of March; and the next date to which I am desired to direct your attention is about a fortnight after the Grand National -- that is, on Saturday, the 13th April. On this Saturday Mr. Maybrick went up to London to consult with his brother (Mr. Michael Maybrick). His chief object in going up apparently was to make arrangements in connection with money matters. He had promised, as I told you, a fortnight previously that he would pay the debts his wife had contacted with certain moneylenders, and one of them was in London. This was his principal object apparently in going up to consult his brother. But in addition to this, he made certain complaints to his brother about not feeling well, which made his brother suggest, on Sunday, the 14th of April, that he should consult Dr. Fuller, who was Mr. Michael Maybrick's doctor. Accordingly, on Sunday, the 14th, he went and consulted Dr. Fuller. To Dr. Fuller he complained of pains in the head and numbness, matters which undoubtedly at that time, rightly or wrongly, probably rightly, Dr. Fuller attributed to dyspepsia. He was a man with whom there was nothing wrong organically of any kind, and Dr. Fuller seems to have made him a great deal more cheerful by telling him so. According to the doctor's opinion, and from what he had seen and heard, he was a man apt to make a great deal out of trifling matters. The doctor gave him a prescription, which, in the course of this case, will be laid before you, which was in the nature of a tonic, and in which there was no arsenic of any kind. Dr. Fuller will tell you that at that time Mr. James Maybrick was a healthy and a strong man, and when he gave him the prescription he told him to come again on the next Sunday, the 21st, to see him. Undoubtedly the numbness and the pains in the head would not be accounted for in the way in which Dr. Fuller described the case. Although numbness is one of the symptoms which occur in cases of poisoning by arsenic, it is also common in other cases where weakening of the nerves produces numbness, and the doctor merely supposed he was dyspeptic, and treated him in this way. This was on the 14th, remember, of April, and on the 15th, having only gone away for the week-end, Mr. Maybrick returned, apparently better.

And it is at this stage that I must call attention to this fact. On that very 14th, when he was consulting Dr. Fuller and his brother in the way I have told you, Mrs. Maybrick received a letter from a friend in London. Whatever the facts which are stated in that letter, they would be no evidence at all against the prisoner at the bar, and it is not for that purpose that we put it in, or intend to put it in. It is rather that you may know what was being said of her and what was upon her mind upon that 14th of April (Sunday) when her husband was in London. Probably on that date she received the letter, because it is dated the 13th of April, from Kensington Palace Gardens Terrace. This is the very date upon which Mr. James Maybrick went to London, and the letter would be received in the ordinary course on Sunday. This letter reads:

My Dear Florie,

In the first place, I should wish to say that when I received your mother's letter last Monday I was quite satisfied with the explanation she gave, and the reasons of your letters being returned here, and to your friend's name not being on the books of the Grand Hotel. You can't understand the state of anxiety we were in about you in this day fortnight.

That day fortnight, if it was exactly that day fortnight, would be Saturday, the 29th March, the very day after she returned.

You left us for home on Thursday, and the inference would be that when you left you warned your servants of your coming, and that they would not forward any more letters. Those that arrived on Thursday might be accounted for, but they came on Friday and Saturday morning, and letters written to you were returned here. What could we think but that you were not at home? Kate was going away, and we had no way of relieving our anxiety. I suggested that you might have returned to your hotel, and Harriet went there, and asked if you were there. She found that you had not been staying there. This added more perplexity to our feelings, and there was nothing I could think of but to write to your mother. Happily she was able to say that she had heard of you twice since your return here, and therefore had no anxiety. It was only at her special request that I told her afterwards the cause of our alarm. This you see was caused by the serious misunderstanding. The forwarding of the letters was quite an innocent thing. When you were with your friend it did not matter where you were living, but you expressly stated that it was at the Grand Hotel, and this want of accuracy, you see, misled us. We are plain people, and accustomed to believe what is told us. I had no unkindly feeling in writing to your mother. I am sorry if it has in any way vexed you. I am sorry about your little girl.

I am, dear Florie, your truly,
Margaret Baillie

I make no comment on that letter, because the facts to which it refers are not in the least evidence. The only importance as regards a letter of that kind is to show what was going on at the time, and what effect it might have upon the state of mind of the prisoner on the date of the 14th.

The next date I will call your attention to is one which is apparently not accurately fixed, but it is a period which began on the 15th and ended on the 20th; it may be open to be varied or altered when you hear the story detailed, or in cross-examination -- as I understand from the 15th to the 20th April, and particularly, for reasons which I will give you presently, and somewhere before the 20th, or somewhere about that day, in that week, about the time, no doubt, Mrs. Maybrick went to a chemist, and a chemist who lived in her own neighbourhood, and who keeps the post office at Aigburth or Garston, and she then asked him for one dozen of fly-papers, giving as a reason for wanting them that the flies had begun to be troublesome in the kitchen. Generally these fly-papers contained each of them from 2 to 2.5 or 3 grains of arsenic. She got them on a date which is described by the servants as being somewhere about three weeks after the day of the Grand National, and some time before the master was taken ill, which would be somewhere about the 20th April. After getting these fly-papers, the housemaid, Brierly, was doing Mrs. Maybrick's bedroom, and was attracted by the appearance of the basin, which had a towel over it. She removed this, and found another basin, also covered with a towel, and in it were some fly-papers, which were soaking in water. She was so struck by this that she called the attention of Nurse Yapp to it. Next day pieces of fly-papers were noticed by Brierly upon the top of the slop basin. But with that exception they were never seen in the house or heard of again. So far as the servants knew there were no flies in the kitchen, and to their knowledge no fly-papers were brought into the house at all. If you find there is no trace of these, it is for you to say for what purpose these fly-papers were bought.

It was just about that date -- the 20th April -- that MR. Maybrick went again to London, as he told Dr. Fuller the week before he would do. He went to London and saw Dr. Fuller, who varied his prescriptions to a small extent, and on the 22nd Mr. Maybrick came back again. Having done so, he went with Dr. Fuller's prescriptions to Messrs. Clay and Abraham, who are chemists in Castle Street, and they made up two prescriptions. You will hear what these prescriptions were, and this, at least, will be a matter requiring your attention -- that whereas one prescription made up in this manner contained no arsenic, that (one of these bottles was kept in the office, and afterwards, when an investigation was made, it was found in the condition in which it was made up) the second bottle, which he got from the same firm, was afterwards found to contain arsenic. That brings us up to the 24th of April, and I will call your attention in the order in which they occur to these different events which took place between the 27th April and the 11th May -- because it is between these dates that occurred the serious illness that ended in the death of Mr. Maybrick on the 11th May. Before I put these events to you, let me make a few remarks upon the general nature of arsenic and its effects. They will be spoken to by a very eminent Liverpool chemist, Mr. Davies, and by Dr. Stevenson, who is the physician to Guy's Hospital, and an eminent chemist in London, of whom, no doubt, some of you have heard. All I need tell you about arsenic just now is this. IT is, as you all know, a mineral poison. It is taken sometimes as a solid powder and sometimes in solution. A single deadly dose -- that is to say, a dose of arsenic which is capable of killing a man by one administration would be a dose of at least 2 grains and upwards. That would take away life in the course of about twelve hours. If it were dissolved, and it would take a wine-glassful of water to dissolve it, half an hour would elapse before any effect would be produced. The symptoms that usually accompany a dose of that kind are nausea, a sinking, and, in addition to that, there usually is purging and comitting to a very excessive degree. But the vomiting, unlike all other vomiting, is accompanied by no sort of relief whatever. There are burning pains in the throat and in the stomach, and great irritation of the stomach is apt usually to produce a tenderness, which is discovered outside on pressure. There is also cramp of the thighs and of the stomach. There is a furred tongue, intense thirst, and from the condition of the intestines there is tenesmus -- that is to say, a great straining in those parts, and a desire to evacuate, without any relief whatever being the result. Any one of these symptoms taken by itself might be produced from other causes; but taken together they would indicate an irritant poison, such as arsenic. The same symptoms are produced by what may be called small doses. If you administer a dose of arsenic less than a fatal dose, one of three-quarters of a grain, or half a grain, twice a day, the same symptoms will be produced. But in the course of twelve hours or a couple of days the patient will get better. But if before he gets better he goes on repeating the dose before there is a complete recovery, then in the course of time he will die. Another word on this subject. It is not a cumulative poison when taken in these small doses. It does not collect in the system in the same way, for instance, that lead does; on the contrary, it rapidly passes away, and it is the arsenic which passes away which kills, and not that which remains, and this makes it one of the most dangerous of poisons, inasmuch as in small doses it produces symptoms which, unless they are taken together, may not be recognized as being peculiar to arsenic, and producing these effects death results. It is especially the case when taken in the liquid form in small doses that after a dose has been administered for a day or two, excepting in the liver, you do not find extensive traces of arsenic. That may be taken shortly as a popular knowledge of the subject, and it is necessary that I should explain it.

I come now to the 24th of April, when deceased went to Clay & Abraham to get his medicine made up. It was on the 27th of April that the first illness occurred, which we say was caused by arsenic. On the 27th April the Wirral races were run, and on that morning, as Mr. Maybrick went downstairs, he seems to have complained of numbness in his limbs, and Humphreys, the cook, to whom he spoke, said he was sick before he went to business that morning. On that morning, between ten and eleven o'clock, Mrs. Maybrick said to the nurse Yapp that the deceased had taken an overdose of the medicine which was prescribed by the doctor in London, that he had been sick, and was in great pain. As a matter of fact, we know from what he said afterwards that he was in great pain, and when he was dining afterwards his condition was such as to lead to the supposition that he had been drinking. The illness he had that day was attributed to an overdose of medicine, but the doctor will tell you there was nothing put in the medicine to make him ill at all, but arsenic was afterwards found in the medicine. The next day was Sunday, 28th April; at that time undoubtedly he was very ill, and the consequence was that Dr. Humphreys, a local doctor who had attended some of the children, was seen, and he will tell you that Mrs. Maybrick told him she attributed the illness to some bad brandy which her husband had at the races, and for which she gave him an emetic. The cook, Humphreys, heard the deceased vomiting very badly, and the same night, between nine and ten o'clock, Dr. Humphreys was sent for again in a hurry. The master was ill again, and ill with symptoms which Dr. Humphreys attributed to dyspepsia. On the Monday he was still in bed, but he seemed at that time a great deal better, the sickness seemed to have gone, and the pains seemed to have disappeared, and what he seemed to have had worse on Monday was a furred tongue. He seemed so much better that the doctor prescribed a diet for him. Now, if the illness was attributed to arsenic, it might have been caused by a small dose or by several small doses. On the Monday, when he was still in bed under the doctor, Mrs. Maybrick went to another chemist in Cressington, and she got from this chemist two dozen fly-papers, with the same compound of arsenic, containing 1.5 grains in each fly-paper. These fly-papers were never seen by any one in the house; no use was ever made of the, as you will be told by all the surviving inmates. One cannot help making the baldest statement of fact, that it is an extraordinary thing that on the Monday, when her husband was just recovering, she should have bought these fly-papers. One asks what she wanted them for, and what became of them? On the 30th April the deceased was so much better that he was able to go down to business at his office; and on the 1st May he took some prepared food which was brought to the office in a brown jug by his brother, Mr. Edwin Maybrick, who received it from Mrs. Maybrick, who prepared it. On the Wednesday Dr. Humphreys came again, and saw the deceased after business hours, and, as I understand, a great improvement had taken place. That was on the Wednesday night. On the Thursday, 2nd May, lunch -- I think beef tea -- he took down himself. It was prepared in the house, and given to him by his wife. On both days he took lunch. On the 1st you will hear what it was. I did not notice on the 1st, as far as I have been able equitably to make out form the different statements, that he was anything but well, and certainly in the evening he was a great deal better. On the 2nd he felt very ill after his lunch.

Justice Stephen: Did they say what he had for lunch?

My lord, I think it was beef tea, but I may be wrong. He complained next day. However, it was something prepared in the house, and given to him by his wife, which he took down with him. That is on the Thursday, the 2nd May. After lunch he was undoubtedly taken ill. He came back, and he complained of being ill, and on the Friday morning the charwoman did with the jug what she had done on Thursday morning. He had some lunch on the Wednesday, and the jug was cleaned on Friday. Only the charwoman cleaned the jug in which he had had his lunch on the Thursday, the 2nd. In cleaning the jug she was not very careful in going into all the nooks and corners. She cleaned the jug, but did not manage so as to scrape the inside matter in the jug. In that corner, when afterwards examined by Mr. Davies, the chemist, you will find that arsenic had undoubtedly been. Having been taken ill on the Thursday after lunch, as he explained to Dr. Humphreys the next morning, Dr. Humphreys was sent for at ten o'clock, and the symptoms explained to him. He stated that he had not been well since the day before. At that time he was actually ill in bed. He was lying on his bed, and said, "I have been sick again." The nurse remarked to Dr. Humphreys that it was very curious that he should be sick again, and suggested that a second doctor had better be sent for. Mrs. Maybrick, however, said that he had no necessity for it. He had had a good nursing, and doctors were all fools, or something to that effect, which does not matter much to this case. At the time she said there was no necessity for a second opinion. He himself said he would like to have a Turkish bath, and he went on the Friday night, and undoubtedly had a Turkish bath. At twelve o'clock at night -- midnight -- Dr. Humphreys was called.

Justice Stephen: Friday, the 3rd May?

Yes; I thank his lordship for the remark. I have myself been careful in laying this case before you to draw your attention to the dates, and to occurrences which took place on each one of those dates, because I think that it is very important that you should do it to rightly understand the case. Friday was the 3rd of May, and on Friday, when they sent for Dr. Humphreys at ten o'clock in the morning, he complained that he had not been well since his lunch on the Thursday before. After the Turkish bath, Dr. Humphreys was summoned at midnight, and then Mr. Maybrick complained for the first time of deep-seated pains. He complained very much, and Dr. Hopper thought it was something consistent with sciatica, pains in the thighs and hips, which will be described by the doctor. He complained to the doctor that he had been sick twice, and he attributed it to some inferior sherry he had taken. At that time there were indications of straining of the rectum, and an application of morphia for those parts was given to him to allay that straining and the great pain he was suffering from. That was on the night of Friday, the 3rd of May, and the next, Saturday, Mr. Maybrick was still in bed; on Saturday, in fact, he was a great deal worse. He was so sick he could retain nothing at all; he could eat nothing, and Mrs. Maybrick, who was attending on him at that time, was directed to apply some particles of ice to his mouth. Some stock soup was also made in the kitchen, strengthened with some beef essence and some ingredients of that kind. She was told that day to apply -- and to this I will have particularly to draw your attention -- to apply moistened handkerchiefs to his mouth, and Mrs. Maybrick gave directions that no medicine was to be given to her husband unless she had seen it. That was on the 4th May, and undoubtedly on that date Mr. Maybrick was very ill indeed. The next day was Sunday, the 5th May, and on that day Mr. Maybrick was in bed all day. He was vomiting, and complained very much of pains in the throat, and Mr. Edwin Maybrick and the doctor stayed in the house. Mr. Maybrick was given some soda and milk, but this he vomited back, after, as Mr. Edwin Maybrick would say, some medicine had been given to him by Mrs. Maybrick. The doctor then recommended that some beef essence, which is highly recommended, should be given to him. This was Valentine's beef essence or juice. She said that he was very ill, that he had taken another dose of that horrid medicine from London, that it had made him very ill, and if he had taken much more of it he would have been a dead man. That is very remarkable in view of what had been put into the medicine on that very day. Well, gentlemen, on Monday, the 6th of May, he was still in bed. He complained that his mouth was very offensive, though nothing was perceived of it in his breath by the doctor. His throat distressed him very much -- a feeling as of hairs in it. He complained that the beef extract ordered him always made him sick. So strongly did he complain of this that the doctor recommended that Brand's beef tea should be given him instead. There was a great straining about the rectum, for which on Monday, the 6th May, the doctor advised a blister. In addiction to that he ordered a drug containing a small portion of arsenical liquor. I think there were five draughts in it, each containing a tablespoonful, but that did him no good, and the remainder was thrown away. I will now call your attention, gentlemen, to this fact, that Valentine's meat juice, of which, after taking it, he always complained about being sick -- undoubtedly in that meat juice arsenic was found.

Sir Charles Russell: No, no.

I am sorry to see that my friend, who is anxiously watching this case, says that what I state is not absolutely correct. But I am told that a bottle was analyzed, and that in it arsenic was found. That, of course, is a matter of evidence which I can only state if I have gathered it correctly. This is the state of things upon the Monday. We now come to Tuesday, the 7th of May. On Tuesday again he seemed a little better of his sickness. These fluctuations are important matters for you to consider in connection with the way we suggest arsenic was administered. He was better of his sickness, but complained of his throat to his brother Edwin, who did not like his looks, and did not think he was better. The effect of this was that on Tuesday, 7th May, for the first time Mr. Edwin Maybrick suggested that Dr. Carter, of Rodney Street, should be called in, and at half-past five the same day Dr. Carter came to consult with the local practitioner, Dr. Humphreys. Now, when Dr. Carter came deceased complained to the doctor that he had had vomiting and diarrhea for some days. He said there was a pain in his throat as if a hair was there. He complained also of intense thirst, and when the doctor looked at his throat it was red, dry, and glazed, and although he was in a weak condition he seemed to be very restless under the bedclothes. Dr. Carter looked at these symptoms together, and attributed them to acute dyspepsia and acute inflammation of the stomach. Mrs. Maybrick asked whether the restlessness was due to his eating and drinking during his bachelorhood, but Dr. Carter said this would not account for it at all. On the Tuesday Nurse Yapp noticed Mrs. Maybrick pouring from one bottle into another, but although she had an opportunity to manipulate the medicines I do not say that anything follows from it. The pouring from one bottle to another may have been a perfectly innocent act. I do not attach any importance to it. I only suggest it to you as showing that she was, so to speak, regulating his medicines up to the 7th of May, when Dr. Carter was called in. That brings us to the 8th of May. I remember that Dr. Carter was not coming back until the Thursday. It will be for you to bear in mind that according to both doctors the deceased was suffering from acute dyspepsia on the 7th of May, that being the result of their consultation. On the 8th Dr. Humphreys came, and it appeared that the patient had passed a very poor night. At the same time he said there was no sickness, which seemed to have passed away, and he thought the medicine he had taken had relieved his throat a little. But when Mrs. Briggs entered, and saw him suffering from these recurring symptoms, she thought it right to send for a sick nurse, and at the same time she dispatched a telegram to London for Mr. Michael Maybrick, asking him to come at once to Liverpool. A nursed named Gore arrived about a quarter past two on the Wednesday afternoon, and a quarter of an hour after she gave him some medicine Mrs. Maybrick handed her to give to her husband. At that time Mrs. Briggs fully believed that he would get better, although he was in a condition on the 8th in which he could not get in or out of bed without assistance. That was the state of things at three in the afternoon, which it will be important for you to bear in mind, in conjunction with his wife's acts. About three o'clock Mrs. Maybrick gave Nurse Yapp a letter, telling her that she wanted it posted by the 3:45 post. The nurse took the letter, and will give you a reason why she opened it. But whether that be the true and just reason -- vis., that she let it fall in the mud and opened it, or whether she was animated by curiosity or suspicion, or whatever other motive, it will not be very important to inquire. As a matter of fact, she not only opened the letter, but it is produced before you to-day, because later on in the day, at 5:30, she gave it to Edwin Maybrick. That letter will be for you to consider. But she received on the Monday before, the 6th of May, a letter from Brierly, and now, that you may understand what was going on between them and what was in her mind, I will read you the letter of the 6th of May, which Brierly had written to her. There is no date, but clearly it was written on that date. It is as follows:

My Dear Florie

I suppose now you have gone I am safe in writing to you. I don't quite understand what you mean in your last about explaining my line of action. You know I could not write, and was willing to meet you, although it would have been very dangerous. Most certainly your telegram yesterday was a staggerer, and it looks as if the result was certain, but as yet I cannot find an advertisement in any London paper.

Now it is quite certain that this refers to certain investigations which might lead to the discovery of what had passed between them in London.

I should like to see you, but at present dare not move, and we had better perhaps not meet until late in the autumn. I am going to try and get away in about a fortnight. I think I shall take a round trip to the Mediterranean, which will take six or seven weeks, unless you wish me to stay in England. Supposing the rooms are found, I think both you and I would be better away, as the man's memory would be doubted after three months. I will write and tell you when I go. I cannot trust myself at present to write about my feelings on this unhappy business, but I do hope that some time hence I shall be able to show you that I do not quite deserve the strictures contained in your last two letters. I went to the D. And D., and, of course, heard some tales, but myself knew nothing about anything. And now, dear, "Good-bye," hoping we shall meet in the autumn. I will write to you about sending letters just before I go.

A.B.

To that she wrote a letter which was intercepted by Nurse Yapp. It was as follows:

Wednesday

Dearest,

Your letter under cover to John K. came to hand just after I had written to you on Monday. I did not expect to hear from you so soon, and had delayed in giving him the necessary instructions. Since my return I have been nursing M. day and night. He is sick unto death. The doctors held a consultation yesterday, and now all depends upon how long his strength will hold out. Both my brothers-in-law are here, and we are terribly anxious. I cannot answer your letter fully to-day, my darling, but relieve your mind of all dear of discovery now and in the future. M. has been delirious since Sunday, and I know now that he is perfectly ignorant of everything, even of the name of the street, and also that he has not been making any inquiries whatever. The tale he told me was a pure fabrication, and only intended to frighten the truth out of me. In fact he believes my statement, although he will not admit it. You need not therefore go abroad on that account, dearest; but, in any case, please don't leave England until I have seen you once again. You must feel that those two letters of mine were written under circumstances which must even excuse their injustice in your eyes. Do you suppose that I could act as I am doing if I really felt and meant what I inferred then? If you wish to write to me about anything do so now, as all the letters pass through my hands at present. Excuse this scrawl, my own darling, but I dare not leave the room for a moment, and I do not know when I shall be able to write to you again.

In haste, yours ever,
Florie.

At 6:30 the same day Nurse Gore noticed that a tumbler, a medicine glass, was gone, and Mrs. Maybrick put some medicine into it, and said it must be put in a tumbler of cold water -- it must have so much water or it would burn his throat. Nurse Gore did not administer that medicine at all. She said she wanted the glass for some other purpose, and for that reason, and that, I take it, only, she threw the medicine into a sink in the housemaid's closet. Whether from that cause or some other -- it is not fair to trace it to any particular cause -- but undoubtedly in the sink of the housemaid's closet there were traces of arsenic found. The 9th of May was Thursday. Nurse Gore had been on duty a long time on Thursday, and at eleven o'clock the institution sent another nurse, named Callery, who relieved Nurse Gore. Dr. Carter, head physician, came on the afternoon of the 9th, when Nurse Callery was there. On Tuesday both doctors could only attribute the symptoms of Mr. Maybrick to acute dyspepsia, but on Thursday there came on with increased violence during the night a symptom which at once attracted the marked attention of Dr. Carter. He found this tenesmus, this straining and retching, was very painful and persistent, and he then for the first time seems to have come to the conclusion that they showed a symptom which an acute dyspepsia would not account for, and there was then a strong presumption that the symptoms were those, and those only, of an irritant poison.

That went on during the day on Thursday, and at eleven o'clock at night Nurse Gore returned. She had been away for twelve hours, from eleven o'clock in the day. A circumstance occurred then to which I am compelled to ask your careful attention, being one of the serious features in the case. When Nurse Gore returned she opened a bottle of Valentine's juice essence. The other bottle had been discontinued since the Monday before, and this was substituted. On Thursday Nurse Gore opened a fresh bottle, which she had previously got from Mr. Edwin Maybrick. Mrs. Maybrick, after it had been opened, said he had had that before, and somehow it had always made him ill. That was true, and for that reason the medicine had been discontinued on the Monday. However, the nurse opened it, and having done so, she saw Mrs. Maybrick take that bottle into the dressing room, which leads out of the bedroom, and she was away for about two minutes. After she came back Mrs. Maybrick addressed herself to Nurse Gore, and told her to leave the room for some ice. She would not go, and did not leave the room. Thereupon the nurse will tell you she saw Mrs. Maybrick in a sort of concealed manner, as if she were desirous not to be seen, take the bottle she had taken into the dressing room and put it on the table, and afterwards, when the patient awakened, she saw her move it from the table and put it on the washstand. On the next day, Friday, the 10th May, Nurse Gore was relieved by another nurse, Callery, to whom she pointed out this bottle, on which she had kept her eye the whole time, and gave her certain instructions upon it, and Nurse Callery ultimately gave it up to Michael Maybrick. On the Friday Mr. Maybrick thought he was himself a little better, but it was evidence that he was a great deal worse. He had pains in his throat and in his abdomen, and he said to his wife, in the presence of Nurse Callery, "Don't give me the wrong medicine again," to which Mrs. Maybrick answered, "What are you talking about? You never had the wrong medicine." About two or three o'clock Mrs. Maybrick was noticed apparently changing the medicine from one bottle to another. This was a most serious department of the case, as it was suggested that she might, if she like, alter the medicine. At half-past four Dr. Carter came, and at a quarter to five Nurse Wilson came to relieve Nurse Callery. Wilson heard Mr. Maybrick say, "Oh Bunny, Bunny, how could you do it? I did not think it of you." That was a somewhat ambiguous expression, and the prosecution would not attach more importance to it than it was worth. But now Dr. Carter, who had been there that afternoon, had received from Michael Maybrick a bottle of Valentine's juice, which he took home. That night and next morning he examined it, and both examinations showed that arsenic had been put into it. The accurate examination afterwards by Mr. Davies showed that in that bottle there was half a grain of arsenic. If that was so, it is very serious from both points of view, because it leads to a very strong conclusion that she had put arsenic into his medicine. And it does more; because if half a grain of arsenic was put into it, and no more, it showed that he was being poisoned by doses repeatedly administered. Half a grain of arsenic administered about twice a day would produce these illnesses, with all their variations, of which you have heard. So serious was the patient's condition, that Dr. Carter came about half-past twelve next day, which was Saturday, the 11th of May. On that morning it was clear to everybody that Mr. Maybrick was dying, and his children were brought to him. He could take nothing in the way of nourishment. The doctors were with him when he died, about half-past eight in the evening. Now, gentlemen, you must watch the evidence carefully. On Friday he had had meat juice, part of which he did not take. Arsenic was found in the jug containing it, as also in the closet, or rather the mere trace of arsenic. Now, directly he was dead (on Saturday, the 11th of May), Michael Maybrick directed the nurse and the housemaid to look and see what they could find. In a closet they found a box containing children's clothes; they found a chocolate box, in which there was a parcel labelled "Arsenic -- Poison," and written after it the words "for cats." There was also a handkerchief found, a matter to which I must direct your special attention, for in it arsenic was found. On the next day Mr. Edwin Maybrick, Mr. Michael Maybrick, and the two Briggses, who, as I have said, were old friends of the family, made a further search, and they then found in the dressing-room two hat boxes containing hats belonging to Mrs. Maybrick.

Sir Charles Russell leans over to Mr. Addison and corrects him in regards to this matter.

I understand it is not as I had said -- they contained men's hats; but at the top of one of these boxes was found a bottle of Valentine's meat essence containing arsenic.

Mr. McConnell whispers a correction to Mr. Addison.

It may be as my learned friend says; there was one bottle not sufficiently identified, but the bottle found at the top of the box with Valentine's meat essence did not contain arsenic. Anything I have said contrary to that will rather clear up the matter which wanted clearing up, that when Mr. Maybrick complained to Humphreys that Valentine's meat extract made him ill -- well, I would rather wait until I hear the evidence, because I am not clear on the point.

However that may be, this bottle of Valentine's extract was found at the top of the box, and there were also found three other bottles, each of them containing arsenic in the process of solution -- that is, being converted into a liquid form. One bottle contained a strong solution of arsenic, with several grains in a solid form in the bottle; another bottle contained several grains solid and also a strong solution; and a third bottle contained 15 or 20 grains solid arsenic, but only two drops of the solution. In each of these three bottles there was arsenic in different stages of solution. In the second hat-box there was found a tumbler which contained a fluid resembling milk, and in that tumbler was a piece of handkerchief soaking. In this tumbler were found 20 grains of arsenic. Undoubtedly that was an important point, because you will remember it has been suggested that at an early stage of Mr. Maybrick's complaint a handkerchief was placed over his mouth. Well, later on in June, the dressing-gown which Mrs. Maybrick had worn during the illness was examined, and in the pocket of the gown and in a pocket handkerchief traces of arsenic were found to an extent which will be spoken of by Dr. Stevenson and Mr. Davies. This brings me to Sunday, 12th May. On the next day, Monday, the 13th, there was a post-mortem and an analysis of some of the viscera. The general result was this -- it was found that all the organs of the deceased were healthy. The intestines and bowels were very much irritated, and traces of arsenic were discovered. The stomach was in a state of acute inflammation, such as is produced by an irritant poison. The kidneys showed traces of arsenic, and in the liver undoubtedly arsenic was found in a weighable quantity. Undoubtedly the result of the examination is this, that all the doctors will say, having regard to the post-mortem and the symptoms he showed in his illness, that they have no doubt Mr. Maybrick died from the administration of arsenic. Dr. Stevenson and Mr. Davies, who have had large experience in these matters, will tell you, if there were repeated doses of arsenic, such as the history of this case would seem to indicate, and if for a day or two before he died no arsenic was given to him, that is precisely a case in which they would expect to find the body of Mr. Maybrick in the condition they describe, because it is not the arsenic which is found in the system which kills, but the arsenic which kills is that which has passed away. Now, on the 14th of May, Mrs. Maybrick was in custody in her own house. She at that time wanted some money to pay for telegrams and stamps, and Mrs. Briggs, who was there, said, "Perhaps Mr. Brierly will help you." In which sense she used the words she will explain herself. Thereupon prisoner wrote a letter to Mr. Brierly. She was then in custody and in trouble, and her husband had died in this terrible way on the Saturday before. She said in this communication to Brierly:

Battlecrease House, Aigburth

I am writing to you to give me every assistance in your power in my present fearful trouble. I am in custody, without any of my family with me, and without money. I have cabled to my solicitor in New York to come here at once. In the meantime, send some money for present needs. The truth is known about my visit to London. Your last letter is in the hands of the police. Appearances may be against me, but before God I swear I am innocent.

Florence E. Maybrick.

Gentlemen, we know the relations that existed between her and Brierly, and we know the correspondence that went on between them whilst her husband was on his sick bed; and I do not know that the fact of her applying to Brierly for assistance when the suggestion is made to her adds really very much to our knowledge of the case. After that she was charged by Mr. Inspector Bryning with causing her husband's death, and to that she made no reply. But it is fair to add that the officer cautioned her, and told her to be careful, as what she said might be given in evidence against her. And that she made no reply under the circumstances is not a matter which I, for the Crown, will make any observations upon. On the 14th May the charge was more formally made to her by Mr. Bryning, and again in the same words of caution, of having killed and murdered her husband. She again made no reply. When before the magistrates she was represented by my friend Mr. Pickford, and he, of course, reserved the defense until the assizes. I have now to say that I have no knowledge up to this time, no notion whatever, of what explanation may be given to explain away, if it is possible, the facts which I have laid before you. Gentlemen, there is no reason to doubt what the doctors will swear without doubt, and what the chemists will swear without doubt, that James Maybrick died by arsenic, and arsenic given to him by repeated doses. And if he did, the question will be for you, who gave him the arsenic of which he died? Undoubtedly the whole household, whom you see, knew and had nothing to do with it. It cannot be suggested that the doctor, or his brothers, or the four maidservants, had anything to do with it. It will be for you to say whether the wife, who until the 8th of May attended and administered everything that was given to him, and afterwards gave medicine to him through the nurses -- whether she was or was not the person who did it. It is clear that he was not a man who administered this himself by way of killing himself. That the whole case demonstrates. You will find the deceased was a man who was distressed at the bare notion of death, who was cheered by every ray of hope. Whenever he was a little better was glad to tell it, and was anxious and pleased to describe to his doctors all that he had taken and all that happened. It is clear, besides, that by no mistake was arsenic administered to him. It is clear that he was quite unconscious all through his illness -- and apparently his wife too -- that he was taking arsenic. The name arsenic was never mentioned or brought into question. The illness was attributed to an overdose of the medicine from London, to the wrong medicine being administered, to brandy, sherry, and another time to beer, and different matters. There was never for one moment any notion that he was taking in any shape or form arsenic. Whether by the beer, the sherry, the brandy, or by the many medicines, it is clear that arsenic was being administered to him without his knowledge or the knowledge of any one about the place. Gentlemen, who did it? I shall be compelled, and am compelled, to submit that there is very cogent and powerful evidence to show that it was his wife who administered it. Undoubtedly if she was the person who administered these repeated doses to him, then, gentlemen, she is guilty of the cruel offense of wilful murder, and it will be your painful but bounden and incumbent duty to say so.

As the first witness enters the box, Mr. Addison says he should like to make it plain that the only meat juice in which arsenic was found was that to which Nurse Gore spoke, in which half a grain of arsenic was found, and from which juice nothing was administered to deceased.

 

The Trial of Florence Maybrick July 31st, 1889 William Henry Clemmy, surveyor, Bootle, examined by Mr. Swift, produce plans of Battlecrease, the residence of the deceased. Witness: Mr. Michael Maybrick Michael Maybrick: examined by Mr. McConnell. I am a music composer, residing at Wellington Chambers, Regent's Park, London. James Maybrick of Battlecrease was my brother. He was fifty years of age. The prisoner and he were married in July, 1881. There are two children of the marriage, a boy, seven years, and a girl, three years of age. My deceased brother was in the habit of visiting me occasionally in London. On 13th April he came up to see me there, and remained with me until the Monday following. On Sunday, the 14th, Dr. Fuller came to my chambers, and my brother consulted him in my presence. Dr. Fuller prescribed for him. My brother's object in coming to London was primarily to see about his wife's debts, and he took advantage of his visit to see my doctor. I had a conversation with my brother in reference to the objects of his visit. He came up the week after and stayed at a hotel, but I was out of town and did not see him. On Wednesday, 8th May, I received three telegrams, one from Mrs. Briggs; and in consequence of the contents of these messages I left London the same day for Liverpool. On arriving at Edgehill I was met by my brother Edwin, and with him I drove to Battlecrease House. In the cab we had a conversation as to my brother James's health, and on arrival at the house Edwin showed me a letter, dated 8th May, in the prisoner's handwriting, addressed to Mr. Brierley. I met Mrs. Maybrick at my brother's bedroom door. I asked where my brother was, and then I entered the room, Mrs. Maybrick following me. Nurse Gore was in charge. I was very much shocked to see the state he was in, he being only semi-conscious. Shortly afterwards I saw Mrs. Maybrick in the morning-room, and I said to her that I was not satisfied with my brother's treatment. She asked me what I meant, and I said that she ought to have called in professional nurses, and also another doctor earlier. At that time I had heard that Dr. Humphreys was in attendance, and that a nurse had been procured that day. I also learned that Dr. Carter had been called in as a consulting physician. Mrs. Maybrick said that no one had a better right to nurse the husband than his wife, and I agreed with her, but repeated that I was dissatisfied with the case, and that I would go and see Dr. Humphreys, which I did. I had some conversation with Nurse Gore that night. I slept in the house that night, on the top floor. On Thursday my brother seemed rather better, and Dr. Humphreys seemed to be satisfied with the case. I saw Dr. Carter that same day, and told him what I had told Dr. Humphreys. On Friday morning, in consequence of a conversation that I had with Nurse Gore, I went into the sick-room and took away about half a bottle of brandy. I again saw Nurse Gore in the afternoon, and following on our conversation I took from the wash-stand in the bedroom part of a bottle of Valentine's meat juice, which I gave, precisely as I had found it, to Dr. Carter, about a quarter past four that same afternoon. The bottle of extract was a little more than half full. On going back to my brother's room that afternoon I saw Mrs. Maybrick changing, as I thought, the medicine from one bottle to another, and I said to her, "Florie, how dare you tamper with the medicine." Justice Stephen: She was putting the label on the bottle. Michael Maybrick: She explained that there was so much sediment in the smaller bottle that it was impossible to dissolve it, and she was putting it into the larger bottle so that the medicine might be more easily shaken. I now identify the bottle into which the medicine was being poured. I told her that I was much annoyed and dissatisfied, and that I would have the prescription immediately remade, which I did. My brother grew gradually worse from that time, and at six o'clock he was highly delirious. He was conscious when not delirious. About three or four o'clock Mrs. Maybrick, when in the garden, asked why Dr. Fuller was not brought, and I replied that I believed that Dr. Carter fully understood the case, and that it was rather late in the day to send for Dr. Fuller. Mrs. Maybrick came to my room about three o'clock the next morning and said that matters were much worse. I found my brother, who was in charge of Nurse Gore, to be very ill indeed. About five o'clock he saw his children. Dr. Carter saw my brother about noon. About 8:40 that same evening my brother died. About half-past eleven in the evening Nurse Yapp brought me a chocolate box containing several small bottles and a small parcel labeled with a long red label, "Arsenic: Poison." Justice Stephen: "Arsenic: Poison" is the label, and in another hand are the words, "For cats." Michael Maybrick: In the presence of Mr. Steel, solicitor, who resided next door, and who came in, I sealed the box with my private seal, and placed it in the wine cellar. Subsequently I gave it to Inspector Baxendale. On Sunday morning, the 12th, I, along with my brother Edwin, made a search of the bedroom. We found some letters which I afterwards gave to Inspector Baxendale, but I looked at these letters before doing so. Sir Charles Russell: You first saw your brother on Sunday, the 14th April? Michael Maybrick: No; I first saw him at Kensington. Sir Charles Russell: On the occasion of that visit? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: It is the fact, is it not, that he had telegraphed when he came to London and asked for an appointment to be made with Dr. Fuller? Michael Maybrick: Yes; I believe that was so. Sir Charles Russell: But, as you understand it, one of his principal objects in coming to London was to consult Dr. Fuller about his health? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: When you came down on Wednesday, 8th May, what time did you arrive at Battlecrease? Michael Maybrick: At about half-past nine o'clock. Sir Charles Russell: Where did you first see your brother Edwin? Michael Maybrick: At Edge Hill. Sir Charles Russell: Did he then show you the Brierley letter? Michael Maybrick: No, he told me the purport of it. Sir Charles Russell: And, I suppose, told you the circumstances under which he had obtained it from the nurse Yapp? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You were astonished to see that state your brother was in? Michael Maybrick: I was. Sir Charles Russell: You saw that he was very ill? Michael Maybrick: Very ill indeed. Sir Charles Russell: In a semi-conscious condition? Michael Maybrick: A sort of semi-conscious condition. Sir Charles Russell: I think Mrs. Briggs was there, was she not? Michael Maybrick: No. Sir Charles Russell: Was she not there at the time you arrived? Michael Maybrick: No; certainly not. Sir Charles Russell: Did you learn that she had been there earlier in the day? Michael Maybrick: Yes, I was told so. Sir Charles Russell: Did you see her the next morning? Michael Maybrick: I did. Sir Charles Russell: She took a very serious view of the case, did she not? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: She intimated to you that she had taken a very serious view from the first? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And that she had been there early on the previous morning? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Except upon Thursday, he expressed himself as free from pain, did he not, but it seemed to you that from Wednesday he gradually sank, until he died on Saturday? Michael Maybrick: Well, no; that is not my opinion at all. Sir Charles Russell: What is your view? Michael Maybrick: My view is that there was a decided improvement up to Friday morning. Sir Charles Russell: And then began the collapse? Michael Maybrick: And then he collapsed hour by hour. Sir Charles Russell: In what way did it seem to you that he was better? Michael Maybrick: He was better in spirits, and from his conversation he seemed to think himself better -- in fact, he remarked himself that he thought he was better. Sir Charles Russell: Just tell me -- I want to get at all these matters -- had you from the first a strong suspicion in the case? Michael Maybrick: I had. Sir Charles Russell: And you expressed this suspicion very openly to Mrs. Maybrick, and to the nurses? Michael Maybrick: Not to the nurses. Sir Charles Russell: Did you not, sir? Are you aware that instructions were given to the nurses? Michael Maybrick: Oh! you mean the hospital nurses? Sir Charles Russell: I said the nurses. Michael Maybrick: Yes, I was aware that they had instructions. Sir Charles Russell: You are aware that there were instructions given to them which would convey the idea that there was felt, by those interested in the case, considerable suspicion? Michael Maybrick: Yes, that is so. Sir Charles Russell: Did you, on your arrival, give any instructions to Nurse Gore? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did you become aware on the Wednesday that Mrs. Maybrick herself had telegraphed for a nurse? Michael Maybrick: No, I did not know then; I learned it subsequently, but I do not know how I learned it. Sir Charles Russell: Did you not learn it from your brother? Michael Maybrick: No, I do not think he knew it at the time. I could not say where or how I learned it; but I certainly did hear it afterwards. Sir Charles Russell: Did you hear from your brother that Mrs. Maybrick had urged him to call in Dr. M'Cheyne? Michael Maybrick: I did not understand it that way. My brother said he had seen Dr. M'Cheyne. Sir Charles Russell: I ask you whether Mrs. Maybrick suggested to you that you should call in Dr. M'Cheyne. Michael Maybrick: I cannot recollect that conversation. Sir Charles Russell: The first matter, I think -- I wish to follow this out in order that there may be no misapprehension -- the first matter your attention was called to was by Nurse Gore, in reference to a bottle of brandy? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: On Friday, was it not? Michael Maybrick: On Friday morning. Sir Charles Russell: In consequence of what she said, you were led to have the bottle, which was apparently half-full of brandy, removed? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And you handed it over for examination afterwards? Michael Maybrick: Not then; I locked it up first. Sir Charles Russell: That was on the Friday? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: To whom did you hand it? Michael Maybrick: I locked it up at once, but afterwards I gave it to Inspector Baxendale. Sir Charles Russell: You are aware that from that bottle your brother received nothing after it was taken care of? Michael Maybrick: Nothing from that bottle. Sir Charles Russell: You subsequently handed it over to Dr. Carter on the Friday? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And it was subsequently found to be harmless? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: The next thing was a small bottle of Valentine's meat extract, to which reference was made by Nurse Gore? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And in consequence of which you took charge of it? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: After Nurse Callery called your attention to it, I take it that nothing was administered to your brother from that bottle? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: I wish to ask you what time was it you observed, or thought you observed, Mrs. Maybrick changing the medicine form the smaller into the larger bottle? Michael Maybrick: I think it was, as nearly as I could tell, about two o'clock; it might have been a little after or a litter before. Sir Charles Russell: That was on the Friday? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: In consequence of what you saw her doing you spoke to her very sharply? Michael Maybrick: Yes, I did. Sir Charles Russell: What did you do with the bottle? Michael Maybrick: I took it away, and gave it to Dr. Humphreys. Sir Charles Russell: Mrs. Maybrick, you think, was in the act of putting a label on? Michael Maybrick: She was putting it on. Sir Charles Russell: At that time Nurse Callery was in the room? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And you are aware the contents of this were also analyzed? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And you are aware there was no arsenic in it? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: So far as you are aware, there was no concealment about the matter? Michael Maybrick: None whatever. Sir Charles Russell: What was it Nurse Yapp brought to you about eleven o'clock? Michael Maybrick: She brought me a chocolate box. Sir Charles Russell: Look at it; take it in your hands and tell me what is in it. Michael Maybrick: There were several things, bottles, piece of linen. Sir Charles Russell: Are those things in now? Michael Maybrick: Yes. I think they are very much the same. Sir Charles Russell: Where did she find them? Michael Maybrick: In the trunk which had been taken from the closet in which to put the childrens' clothes. Sir Charles Russell: One side of this bottle had been ticketed poison, and the other was endorsed in a bold hand -- "Arsenic -- Poison for cats?" Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: There is this box of quinine pills? Michael Maybrick: I do not remember. I did not examine them myself. Sir Charles Russell: I really want to know what you did see, because it may be important. Is there a suggestion that there was any arsenic in either of these bottles which have been examined? Russell holds up some small phials. Michael Maybrick: I really do not know. Sir Charles Russell: I notice this bottle is labeled, "Solution of morphia, twenty to twenty-five drops a dose." Apparently the name of the chemist is scratched out. Do you know what is in this smaller bottle? Michael Maybrick: No, I do not. I am not aware what their contents are. Sir Charles Russell: Then there is this handkerchief. Russell hold up handkerchief. You are aware that this is a lady's one, with the name "Maybrick" in the corner of it? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: The evidence at the inquest was that there was a red stain on this handkerchief. Except that, is there anything in relation to the contents of the chocolate box that in any way suggests arsenic? Michael Maybrick: Not that I am aware of. I did not follow the evidence as to the different bottles. Sir Charles Russell: What else did Yapp give you? Michael Maybrick: A brown paper parcel. Inside it was a white parcel. Sir Charles Russell: Does that contain insect powder? Michael Maybrick: I do not know. Sir Charles Russell: Was the parcel open? Michael Maybrick: It was open at one end, and the stuff was running out. Sir Charles Russell: Was there anything poisonous in that that you are aware of? Michael Maybrick: I do not know. Justice Stephen: I think it is admitted there was no poison in that? Mr. Addison: I believe that is so, my lord. Sir Charles Russell: Was there anything else in that parcel? Michael Maybrick: Nothing that I know of. Sir Charles Russell: Did she give you anything else that night? Michael Maybrick: Not that I remember. Sir Charles Russell: I may, just in passing, call attention to this smaller parcel which was labeled "Arsenic," and which is endorsed, "Poison for cats" -- that is discolored, isn't it? Michael Maybrick: Yes; I believe it is. Sir Charles Russell: In other words, it is carbonized arsenic, or mixed with charcoal? Michael Maybrick: Yes, I believe so. Sir Charles Russell: You are aware that for cats it is mixed with carbon in this way? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Justice Stephen: There is no evidence to prove that it is arsenic. Sir Charles Russell: (To Justice Stephen) I believe it is arsenic. (Continuing Cross-examination) Your brother was a cotton broker? Michael Maybrick: He was a cotton merchant. Sir Charles Russell: He had lived some years in America, had he not? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did he go there and stay off and on till he was married? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: He lived in America for some time? Michael Maybrick: Yes, but he came backwards and forwards. Sir Charles Russell: That took place practically down to the time he was married? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: I think that since his marriage he has also gone to America? Michael Maybrick: Yes; he went there three or four times after his marriage. Sir Charles Russell: I will just ask you one or two questions about your brother. Was he a man rather fond of his personal appearance? Michael Maybrick: He was particular about it. Sir Charles Russell: Was he a man given to dosing himself? Michael Maybrick: Not that I am aware of. I never saw him. At times he took a little phosphorus, I know. Sir Charles Russell: Have you ever heard about his dosing himself? Michael Maybrick: I never heard, except in a letter from Mrs. Maybrick. Sir Charles Russell: I should be glad to see that letter. Michael Maybrick: Well, unfortunately, I destroyed it. I did not think it of any importance. Sir Charles Russell: Can you tell me whether it was early in March when you received it? Michael Maybrick: I should think it was early in March. I do not remember the day. Sir Charles Russell: You say you destroyed the letter at the time? Michael Maybrick: Certainly; three or four hours after receiving it. Sir Charles Russell: Tell us what your recollection is. Michael Maybrick: As far as I can recollect, she stated that she had found my brother was taking a white powder, and that she thought it might have something to do with the pains in his head. I know it was a statement to that effect, to which I attached very little importance at the time. She also stated in the letter that he had not the slightest suspicion she had discovered it, and she would not like him to know it. I was given to understand that I was not to mention it to him. Sir Charles Russell: You were asked about this before the magistrates, were you not? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: What action did you take upon that? Michael Maybrick: The only action I took was to communicate it to the deceased when he came to London. On Saturday night, when my brother arrived, we were speaking about different things, and I said, "What is it with reference to those white powders I am told about?" I said, "I am told you take a certain powder." He said, "Whoever told you that, it is a damned lie." Sir Charles Russell: Did you pursue this subject further? Michael Maybrick: I did not. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect whether Mrs. Maybrick said in her letter that her husband was again ill, and nervous and irritable? Michael Maybrick: Yes, I believe she did refer to his irritability. Sir Charles Russell: Did she say she was certain he was still physicking himself? Michael Maybrick: Well, I really could not be sure on that point, but the latter was to that purport. Sir Charles Russell: Did she say she had seen him take a white powder on several occasions, and that when she referred to it he flew into a passion, and did not like it to be talked about? Michael Maybrick: Yes; I believe she did say something to that effect. Sir Charles Russell: Did she say she herself had searched for the powder, and could not find any trace of the powder he took? Michael Maybrick: That I do not remember; I have no recollection of it. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect what was suggested? Do you recollect that she suggested it was perhaps strychnine, or some other drug? Do you recollect the word strychnine? Michael Maybrick: I cannot say I do. Sir Charles Russell: Can you undertake to say, from your recollection, that she did not, referring to a white powder, say it might be strychnine? Michael Maybrick: I should not like to say one way or another; my recollection is too vague. Sir Charles Russell: Your own family doctor is Dr. Fuller? Michael Maybrick: He is. Sir Charles Russell: That fact was known to your brother and his wife? Michael Maybrick: Yes, it was. I mentioned it at Christmas time, when I asked him to come up to London to see Dr. Fuller. Sir Charles Russell: Do you remember whether she mentioned Dr. Fuller's name in the letter? Michael Maybrick: I really cannot say. It is very possible, but I tell you I have a very poor recollection. The idea in my mind is that she referred to his taking a powder. I believe she said she thought she ought to tell me about it. That was the whole of the letter as far as I remember it. Sir Charles Russell: You understand, Mr. Maybrick, that I am accepting your recollection as far as it goes. Do you remember that one of the objects of your brother's visit to London was to obtain a settlement of some debts which his wife had incurred? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You were aware of a dispute having arisen in reference to this man Brierley? Michael Maybrick: I did not hear the nature of the dispute. I had heard there had been a dispute. Sir Charles Russell: As far as you are aware, your brother died entirely in ignorance of the guilty meeting in London? Michael Maybrick: Yes, I am convinced of it. Sir Charles Russell: The only complaint having to do with her was in reference to the quarrel about the Grand National? Michael Maybrick: Yes, I believe so. I firmly believe he knew nothing except what took place on the racecourse. Sir Charles Russell: You are aware there were complaints on both sides? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You know the name of a woman has been introduced into this case? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You are aware that, at the instance of Mrs. Briggs, Mrs. Maybrick went to consult a friend in reference to this woman? Michael Maybrick: Yes, I am aware of it. Sir Charles Russell: And a reconciliation was supposed to have been brought about between Mr. Maybrick and his wife? Michael Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Have you examined your brother's papers? Michael Maybrick: Not very much myself, but my brother has. Sir Charles Russell: Well, I prefer to examine him in regard to them. Did you come across, or has your brother shown you, a bundle of prescriptions? Michael Maybrick: I have not seen them. Sir Charles Russell: Have you come across the cashbox from Mrs. Maybrick's wardrobe? Michael Maybrick: I have seen it, but it is not here. Sir Charles Russell: Are you aware it has been asked for by the representative of Mrs. Maybrick? Michael Maybrick: No, I am not aware; I have not heard of it at all so far. Mr. Addison: (Re-examining the witness.) Michael Maybrick: The only way I can fix the date when my sister- in-law wrote to me is by a certain even which took place in London on 26th March, and I think it must have been a fortnight before then. When I mentioned the powder to my brother, and he told me it was a lie, I dropped the subject, as he seemed to be annoyed. Witness: Dr. Arthur Richard Hopper Dr. Hopper: I am a physician and surgeon in Rodney Street, Liverpool. I have attended Mr. and Mrs. Maybrick since 1881, shortly after their marriage. He was a very healthy man, but he complained from time to time of symptoms which in my mind were not very serious -- slight dyspepsia and nervousness, which I thought to be exaggerated. After June, 1888, he complained more than formerly. I usually prescribed nerve tonics. I never prescribed arsenic for him in any shape or form, but I remember having a conversation with him some years ago about it. My impression of the conversation is that he told me that he knew it as an anti-periodic. When he returned from America, I think he said he had been taking quinine, and as he said that quinine did not suit him, I suppose I suggested arsenic. Arsenic is an anti-periodic, and it is given in cases of disease in which there is a liability to periodic recurrence. It is for intermittent fevers, marsh fevers, etc.. The nerve tonics which I prescribed were very ordinary ones, nux vomica and phosphoric acid. With that exception my impression was that he was a fairly healthy man. I remember the day after the Grand National, 30th March, Mrs. Maybrick called upon me. She complained that she was very unwell, that she had been up all night, had taken very little food, and was out of sorts, and she asked my advice. I saw that she had a black eye. She said that her husband had been very unkind to her, that they had had a serious quarrel the night before, and he had beaten her. The quarrel she explained was the outcome of a disagreement at the Grand National, but I do not think she told me at that time what that disagreement was about. She said that she had a very strong feeling against him, and could not bear him to come near her. She also said that it was her intention to go to a lawyer and ask for a separation to be arranged. About half-past three the next day I went to Battlecrease House. I first saw Mrs. Maybrick alone, and afterwards I saw her along with her husband. They stated their respective complaints against one another in my presence, as to her repugnance for him, and as to the quarrel the night before. Mr. Maybrick said that his wife had annoyed him very much at the Grand National, that she had gone off with a gentleman and walked up the course although he had distinctly told her not to do so. I do not think there was any other grievance. In the course of a conversation with Mrs. Maybrick she told me she was very much in debt, and that that was the great obstacle to reconciliation. I told her I did not think it would be a serious obstacle, and I strongly recommended her to make a clean breast of it, and to get her husband's forgiveness for the debts, and then everything would be right. Justice Stephen: After seeing Mr. and Mrs. Maybrick separately I understood that he was to pay all her debts, whatever they were. He made very light of it. Dr. A.R. Hopper: Mrs. Maybrick had no grievance against her husband more than I have told as to her repugnance to him except that she said he was frequently unkind to her. As far as I knew reconciliation took place. Sir Charles Russell: Cross-examining. When did you first attend Mr. Maybrick? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I began to attend him as far back as 1882. Sir Charles Russell: And did you attend him from time to time up to the end of 1888? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Between 1882 and June, last year, you have seen him a number of times? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: How often do you say you have seen him? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Fifteen times or more. Sir Charles Russell: And oftener? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Perhaps twenty. Sir Charles Russell: Did he visit your house? Dr. A.R. Hopper: He came to my house. Sir Charles Russell: Were his complaints always the same? Dr. A.R. Hopper: No; on one occasion he had a cold and sore throat, but generally they were the same. Sir Charles Russell: Were these complaints connected with the liver and digestive organs? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And the nerves? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Was he a man that was rather given to exaggerate symptoms? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Not so much to exaggerate them as to attach undue importance to them. Sir Charles Russell: You would call him hypochondriacal? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Distinctly so? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Seeing him for so long a period of time and so frequently, you can pretty well form an opinion about the man from his conversations and admissions? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Was he a man given to dosing himself? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes, he was. Sir Charles Russell: Distinctly? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Distinctly. Sir Charles Russell: I would like you to tell the jury what you mean by that. Dr. A.R. Hopper: I mean that, when he came to consult me, I was disappointed to find that between the visits he had been trying some new remedy recommended him by friends, and different from the medicines I had prescribed. Sir Charles Russell: Do I understand that this happened more than once? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Somebody suggested to him and he took it? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: When you say more than once, do you mean frequently? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes, frequently. Sir Charles Russell: Has he ever said anything to you as to whether he confined himself to the appointed doses of particular medicines or whether he exceeded them? Dr. A.R. Hopper: He told me that, finding no effect from his medicine, he had doubled the dose, and that it had or had not disagreed with him. Sir Charles Russell: Did that apply to the medicines obtained from other sources, or to your own prescriptions? Dr. A.R. Hopper: From my memory, I should say it applied to my own prescriptions only. Sir Charles Russell: What did you say when it was mentioned to you that he was taking double doses of this kind? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I said to him it was a dangerous habit; although he might escape scot free, he would some time do himself great injury. Sir Charles Russell: He might have taken or not what would seriously injure him, although it might not prove fatal? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Quite so. Sir Charles Russell: I want you to carry your mind back to the first time he consulted you. Were the symptoms mentioned to you nervous symptoms? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes; they were. Sir Charles Russell: For instance, did he complain of numbness? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes; that was a frequent complaint. Sir Charles Russell: Numbness -- in what part? Dr. A.R. Hopper: In the extremities. Sir Charles Russell: What part of the extremities? Dr. A.R. Hopper: In the hands, feet, and also the legs. Sir Charles Russell: That was a symptom he frequently complained of? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes, frequently. Sir Charles Russell: You were aware that he lived in America for a considerable time? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: He had been in the habit of going over to and back from America? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Do you know a Dr. Seguard, of New York? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes, well. Sir Charles Russell: Did deceased give you on any occasion a bundle of prescriptions written by Dr. Seguard? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Tell me first what became of those prescriptions. Dr. A.R. Hopper: I destroyed them. Sir Charles Russell: When? Dr. A.R. Hopper: A few months since. Sir Charles Russell: Were they principally prescriptions of the aphrodisiac kind? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes; strychnine was the chief, and nux vomica. Sir Charles Russell: That is a sexual nerve tonic? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And so far as you recollect there was no arsenic in Dr. Seguard's prescriptions? Dr. A.R. Hopper: No. Sir Charles Russell: Are you aware that arsenic is a nerve tonic of the aphrodisiac character? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes; it is commonly used as such. Sir Charles Russell: I want to ask you a particular question. You have spoken particularly of having been in charge and attendance upon this gentleman from June, 1888, to December, 1888. As early as June, 1888, did not Mrs. Maybrick make a communication to you as to certain habits of her husband? Dr. A.R. Hopper: In June or September, I am not quite sure which. Sir Charles Russell: I put it to you, was it not in June when you first began the attendance upon him? Dr. A.R. Hopper: It was either at the beginning of the attendance or shortly after my return from my holidays; but I am not clear which. My impression was she was not unreasonably anxious about the matter. Sir Charles Russell: What did she say to you? Dr. A.R. Hopper: She told me that Mr. Maybrick was in the habit of taking some very strong medicine which had a bad influence on him; for he always seemed worse after each dose. She wished me to see him about it, as he was very reticent in the matter. Sir Charles Russell: She wished you to remonstrate with him? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You understood that she wished you to do that with a view of putting a stop to it? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And you did, I think, upon the next occasion of your visit to the house, make some kind of search, and found nothing, at all events of a poisonous nature? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Do you remember whether she spoke at that time of his taking medicine or powder? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I do not remember that. I did not look for a powder. I looking in his dressing-room for bottles, but I did not find anything. Sir Charles Russell: On the occasion of her coming to you in March, when she was accompanied by Mrs. Briggs, she had a black eye. Did you afterwards learn from her husband how that was inflicted? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes; I found that he had given it. Sir Charles Russell: Now, I wish to draw your attention to one or two points in the evidence which you have given. You said that he had a strong habit of taking almost any medicine which was recommended to him, and of taking larger doses than was prescribed? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: He knew arsenic as a nerve tonic, and that it had similar properties to nux vomica and strychnine? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes, I believe so. Sir Charles Russell: And I believe he told you that he had taken arsenic as an antiperiodic when he was in America? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I gathered as much from his conversation -- that he had taken it in America as an antiperiodic, and knew all about its properties. Sir Charles Russell: Now, I ask you whether that conversation took place, or something like it, about the time when Mrs. Maybrick told you about his dosing himself by taking the medicine? Dr. A.R. Hopper: It did not. It took place a considerable time before, and, in my mind, the two conversations had no connection. Sir Charles Russell: Are you clear on that point in your own mind? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Certainly. Sir Charles Russell: Had you that conversation with regard to his taking the arsenic as an antiperiodic in your mind when she made the statement to you about the middle of 1888? Dr. A.R. Hopper: No, it was not in my recollection at the time. Sir Charles Russell: You did not follow it up by any inquiry from him? Dr. A.R. Hopper: No, I had no anxiety about him. Sir Charles Russell: What was Mr. Maybrick's appearance? Was he a smooth-skinned man? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes, he had a smooth and rather pale complexion. Sir Charles Russell: Have you had any experience with the use of arsenic in this country? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I use arsenic very frequently. Sir Charles Russell: Principally in Fowler's solution, I believe? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Has any case come across you in this country of men who have used arsenic habitually? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I have no personal experience. Sir Charles Russell: Your experience is from books? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Can you tell me from experience what would probably be the effect of suddenly leaving off the use of arsenic by one who had been accustomed to taking it in small doses? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I cannot tell you from my experience the symptoms. Sir Charles Russell: Is it a fact that, as regards stimulants, it is true to say that the sudden cessation of them is injurious? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I would say risky rather than injurious. Sir Charles Russell: Is it the case with one class of stimulants -- alcoholic stimulants -- that the sudden disuse of alcohol by persons who have been taking a quantity may bring on delirium tremens? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And frequently it does? Dr. A.R. Hopper: That is so. Sir Charles Russell: You did say when you were asked about this conversation, that it was in June or September, you could not tell which? Justice Stephen: He said so to-day. Sir Charles Russell: Are you sure you did not prescribe arsenic yourself? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I am morally certain. Sir Charles Russell: Can you tell me the last occasion when you saw him? Dr. A.R. Hopper: It would be in December, 1888, when I last saw him professionally. Sir Charles Russell: The matters of which he complained, with the exception of the case in which you spoke of his having a cold, were uniformly the same? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Would this be a correct description -- that he suffered frequently from an impaired digestion and symptoms of nervous disease? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And during the whole of the period it was that deranged digestion and his nervous system for which you were treating him off and on from 1882 to the end of 1888, and that was so in December, 1888? Dr. A.R. Hopper: That is so. Sir Charles Russell: Did Mrs. Maybrick write to you a long letter on the eve of her husband's death? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Have you got it? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I haven't it with me. Sir Charles Russell: Can you get it? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: I will ask to see it. Justice Stephen: Did you attend Mr. Maybrick in his last illness? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Oh, no, my lord. Mr. John Addison: Re-examining. You were saying that he had been hipped. What do you mean by that? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I mean that he attached too much importance to trifling symptoms. Mr. John Addison: That is what you mean by being hipped? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Mr. John Addison: You say these symptoms are accompanied by complaints about the liver. Is it usual for them to go together? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I think a derangement of the liver is an exciting cause of hypochondrial condition of mind. Mr. John Addison: You say he was given to dosing himself, and told you of remedies that friends had suggested. Did he ever tell you what the nature of the remedies were? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes; I remember he told me that he had habitually taken Fellows' syrup as a tonic. Mr. John Addison: What is that made of? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Quinine, iron, arsenic, and hypophosphates. And it also contains strychnine. Mr. John Addison: Is it a common remedy? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Justice Stephen: You mentioned arsenic. Perhaps you will be kind enough to repeat the articles used in the composition of the medicine. Dr. A.R. Hopper: Hydrosulfate of quinine, iron, and strychnine. Mr. John Addison: You mentioned strychnine. We know that in certain doses it is a serious poison. When given as a nerve tonic in what proportions do you use it? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Very minute doses in solution is what I frequently prescribed to him. Mr. John Addison: Fellows' syrup -- is that a sort of patent medicine? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Mr. John Addison: Did he mention to you any other sort of medicine he ever took? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Podophyllin pills. Mr. John Addison: They act primarily upon the liver? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Mr. John Addison: Two or three years ago it became a very popular remedy for the liver? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Mr. John Addison: Did he mention anything else his friends ever suggested to him? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I also remember hop bitters, an American proprietary article. Mr. John Addison: What is it made of as far as you know? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Medicinal bitters of an innocent character. Mr. John Addison: Did he ever mention anything else? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I do not know exactly. Mr. John Addison: Was he very free with you as to what he had taken? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I found him quite candid as to what he had taken. Mr. John Addison: Had he been quite candid at all times up to December, 1888? Dr. A.R. Hopper: He was always unreserved. Justice Stephen: Were you an intimate personal friend at all? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I was merely the family doctor, and attended his wife in her confinement. Mr. John Addison: Did he from first to last ever mention arsenic as the thing he was taking? Dr. A.R. Hopper: No, he never did. Mr. John Addison: Except when he came from America in 1882? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I really cannot remember the date of that conversation, or how long after he came home from America. Mr. John Addison: Did you know what part of America he had been to? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Norfolk, Virginia. Mr. John Addison: Can you tell me whether, in that part of the world, ague, malaria, or other fevers are known? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I believe so. Mr. John Addison: But at this period there was nothing, as far as you know, the matter with him? Dr. A.R. Hopper: No. But roughly speaking, about June of last year he told me he had taken a bottle of mixture in half the time I prescribed. Mr. John Addison: Do you remember what it was? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Bromide of potassium. Mr. John Addison: It was on that occasion you told him? Dr. A.R. Hopper: That was one of the occasions. Mr. John Addison: On other occasions? Dr. A.R. Hopper: I had occasion to warn him not to be so free with medicines or so careless about them. Mr. John Addison: Strychnine and nux vomica are nerve tonics? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Mr. John Addison: In what sort of doses do you give these tonics? Dr. A.R. Hopper: In solution of strychnine. Mr. John Addison: What is the dose? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Three of four minims is a common dose. Mr. John Addison: And nux vomica? Dr. A.R. Hopper: About ten minims. Mr. John Addison: In the same way? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Mr. John Addison: Had you, from anything he communicated to you, or from any other source, any reason to suppose that he was in the habit of using any arsenic whatever? Dr. A.R. Hopper: No; I never thought of arsenic in connection with this discussion before. Mr. John Addison: Is arsenic a stimulant? Dr. A.R. Hopper: It would not be looked upon as a stimulant. Mr. John Addison: Is it a tonic? Dr. A.R. Hopper: Yes. Mr. John Addison: What is it taken in, and what for? Dr. A.R. Hopper: It is generally taken in solution, and with a form of ginger. Witness: Mrs. Matilda Briggs. Mrs. Briggs: Examined by Mr. McConnell. I am the wife of Thomas Charles Briggs, and I live at Livingstone Avenue, Sefton Park. I knew the deceased Mr. Maybrick before his marriage, and I afterwards became acquainted with Mrs. Maybrick. In 1882 Mr. and Mrs. Maybrick took a house belonging to us. His general health was that of a man always quite well. On 30th March last Mrs. Maybrick called at my house and made a statement to me with reference to a quarrel that had taken place between her husband and herself. I went with her to Dr. Hopper, and afterwards to her own lawyer. I also went to the General Post Office in Liverpool to get a private letter for her. I next saw her on Friday, 3rd May, the week before Mr. Maybrick died. She only made a complaint about her husband after the Grand National. Justice Stephen: How long after? Mrs. Briggs: The day after. Continuing examination. I heard of no quarrel of any consequence before that. I went to Battlecrease House on Wednesday, 8th May, and saw Nurse Yapp there, who made a statement to me. I went upstairs to Mr. Maybrick's bedroom, Mrs. Maybrick following immediately behind me. I had a conversation with Mr. Maybrick in her presence. He tried to tell me his symptoms, and said that he was very weary and restless. Upon that Mrs. Maybrick asked me to come downstairs and she would tell me what was the matter with him. I went downstairs, but I do not remember what Mrs. Maybrick told me. I suggested that she should send for a nurse, but she said there was no occasion for one, as she could nurse him herself. She gave that as also being the opinion of the doctor. I left the house about eleven or twelve o'clock, and I afterwards saw Mr. Edwin Maybrick, to whom I made a communication. I again went to the house on the following Saturday. I was sent for between four and five o'clock in the morning, and I remained in the house till Mr. Maybrick died. On the following day I made a search of the house along with my sister and the two Mr. Maybricks. In the writing table in the dressing-room I found a small bottle containing fluid and a handkerchief (produced). I also found a small blue box in an ordinary hatbox in the same room. The hatbox contained a man's hat, and the smaller box contained three bottles(produced). In addition there was on the top of the box a bottle that had contained Valentine's extract. There was also a tumbler in another hatbox. In that tumbler there was a rag soaking in a whitish fluid, which looked like milk. I left the articles as I found them, and the same evening (Sunday) I saw them given over to the inspector. I was at the house again on Tuesday, the 14th. I saw Mrs. Maybrick in bed in the spare bedroom. I saw her writing a letter which, when she had signed, she gave to me. In that letter, which has been produced, Mrs. Maybrick asked Mr. Brierley to send her money. Sir Charles Russell: On your reading the letter did you say anything? Mrs. Briggs: I said it would be seen by the police, and gave it to the policeman at the door. Sir Charles Russell: I understand it was in your character as friend that you accompanied her to Dr. Hopper? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And in the same character you took her to your solicitor's -- I believe it was your own solicitor you recommended her to? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: So that you were really very confidential in your relations to her? Mrs. Briggs: That is so. Sir Charles Russell: Except calling to inquire how Mrs. Maybrick was, you were not at the house during the illness until the 8th -- the Wednesday, that would be three days before Mr. Maybrick died? Mrs. Briggs: That is the case. Sir Charles Russell: You were aware, were you not, that his brother, Mr. Edwin Maybrick, had been in Liverpool since the 25th of April? Mrs. Briggs: I knew of his arrival in Liverpool. Sir Charles Russell: And you knew that he was in communication with Mr. Michael Maybrick, his brother? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: So that if it was considered necessary to communicate with Mr. Michael Maybrick, Mr. Edwin Maybrick could have done so? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: The fact was, Mrs. Briggs, when you saw this poor gentleman you came to the conclusion he was in a very bad way? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And you expressed your opinion to that effect? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Is it not a fact that he was in a very much more serious condition than you would have thought up to that time? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Mr. Edwin Maybrick had been stopping in the house for some time? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And had been, I don't know whether every night, but off and on, from his arrival on the 25th April, had been actually sleeping in the house? Mrs. Briggs: I don't know that. Sir Charles Russell: You in fact formed a very bad opinion of the man's condition? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You formed a very serious opinion of it. You though him in peril? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Serious peril? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: I must ask you to remember one or two things that you have not told us about which occurred that morning. Don't you know that on Wednesday, before your visit, Mrs. Maybrick had telegraphed to Hale for a nurse? Mrs. Briggs: I know now. I did not know then. Sir Charles Russell: You did not know then? Mrs. Briggs: No, she did not tell me herself. Sir Charles Russell: You have now ascertained it? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Was it your suggestion that the nurse sent for should be a trained nurse? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And did she fall in with your suggestion? Mrs. Briggs: Yes, in the end. Sir Charles Russell: Did you hear that after the arrival of Dr. Humphreys? Mrs. Briggs: I don't know who told me. Sir Charles Russell: I think you wrote the telegram in her name, showed it to her, and she paid for it and sent it by a messenger? Mrs. Briggs: No, I took it myself. Sir Charles Russell: She paid for it? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: With regard to that letter (to Mr. Brierley), is it not a fact that you suggested the writing of it? Mrs. Briggs: I did in sarcasm. Sir Charles Russell: You were examined on this before the coroner's jury; did you say one word about making the suggestion in sarcasm then? Mrs. Briggs: No, I was too nervous. Sir Charles Russell: At all events, whether you suggested it in sarcasm or not, you suggested it? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And when handed to you it was open? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You did not require to tear the envelope open to see the contents? Mrs. Briggs: No. Sir Charles Russell: You were asked to read it? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And when you saw the writing did you expostulate with her for writing? Mrs. Briggs: No. Sir Charles Russell: Then when she had written it and handed it to you to read, did you say you would hand it to the policeman? Mrs. Briggs: Yes, if she wished it to go. Sir Charles Russell: And you know, as a matter of fact, that it never reached its destination? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: I wish to get from you a few particulars. The first article you have mentioned in which arsenic was found was the writing table? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Where was the writing table? Mrs. Briggs: In the inner room off the bedroom. Sir Charles Russell: Is that the room in which there was a bed? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And did you know enough to know that the bed in that room was used? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: It was used by him? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Where did the writing table stand? Mrs. Briggs: Near the window, right away from the bed, on the opposite side of the room. Sir Charles Russell: As you enter the inner door from the principal bedroom there is a window on the left of the room? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And a window facing as you enter? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Then how was the table with reference to the windows -- was it between them or opposite? Mrs. Briggs: It was opposite the window to the left. Sir Charles Russell: Was the writing table unlocked? Mrs. Briggs: Yes; there was a little cupboard under the writing table. Sir Charles Russell: What did you find in it? Mrs. Briggs: Odds and ends. Sir Charles Russell: Amongst other things, did you find some picture cord, hammer, and nails? Mrs. Briggs: Yes, that kind of thing. Sir Charles Russell: And did the small bottle and handkerchief meet your eye when you opened it? Mrs. Briggs: No, they were quite far back. Sir Charles Russell: I do not know whether you know that the small bottle contained oxide of zinc? Mrs. Briggs: I do not know. Sir Charles Russell: The first hatbox you found in your search -- where was it? Mrs. Briggs: In the corner of the room. Sir Charles Russell: Whereabouts? Mrs. Briggs: Behind the bed, and at the foot of the bed. Sir Charles Russell: Further out in the room? Mrs. Briggs: Yes, in the corner. It was in the furthest corner, at the right-hand side. Sir Charles Russell: Points out the position of the bed in the room to Justice Stephen. I want to clearly understand these things. Was the hatbox on the floor? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: It was not secured or fastened? Mrs. Briggs: No. Sir Charles Russell: And it did, in fact, contain a hat? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: What sort of a hat was it? Mrs. Briggs: One was a soft hat, and another was a tall one. Sir Charles Russell: Yes, but I am asking you about the first hatbox -- were the hatboxes standing beside each other, or one on the top of the other? Mrs. Briggs: I think beside each other. Sir Charles Russell: When you opened the first you found a small wooden box, and it contained three bottles, and on the top of the box there was a bottle of Valentine's meat extract? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: In the second hatbox, which you say was standing near the first, you found a glass, and there was something like milk in it with a rag? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Have you told us, Mrs. Briggs, the result of the search so far as you took part in it? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Was there anything, so far as your observation extended, except Mrs. Maybrick's wardrobe, that was in any way secured or locked? Mrs. Briggs: No. Sir Charles Russell: You are aware that no bottles or anything else connected with this case were found in the wardrobe? Mrs. Briggs: No. Sir Charles Russell: Did you in the course of your observations see that a large number of bottles were in the house? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Presumably the class of medicine bottles? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: A very large number, was there not? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Would it be an exaggeration to say that there were more than one hundred? Mrs. Briggs: Well, I could not say. There were several. Sir Charles Russell: But several is a very long way short of one hundred. Were there as many as fifty in one room? Mrs. Briggs: I could not tell, but I know there were a good many. Sir Charles Russell: Do you know anything about this habit which is imputed to the dead man of his dosing himself with medicine and things suggested by friends? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Was that well known among his friends? Mrs. Briggs: Yes, I think so. Sir Charles Russell: Has he been remonstrated with or rallied about it in your presence? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: How did you come to know it? Mrs. Briggs: He used to recommend me medicines. He recommended me to take hydrophosphites and things like it. Sir Charles Russell: Do you know what hydrophosphites are? Mrs. Briggs: A tonic, I think, to give you an appetite. That was a long time ago. Sir Charles Russell: Anything else? Mrs. Briggs: Not that I remember. Mr. John Addison: You say you suggested this letter to the prisoner. What did you say to her? Mrs. Briggs: I think I said to her that Mr. Brierley might help her, as he knew her troubles. Sir Charles Russell: Did it come to your knowledge, or was it put to you, that traces of arsenic were found in one bottle of Valentine's meat juice which had not been administered to the deceased man? Do you recollect that? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did it also come to your knowledge that arsenic was found in some or most of certain bottles, which will be pointed to particularly hereafter? That was so, was it not? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect of hearing that arsenic was found in certain bottles? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: I am alluding to the time when you had the conversation with Mrs. Maybrick herself? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect telling her that fact? Mrs. Briggs: I think I mentioned it. Sir Charles Russell: Do you remember your mentioning particularly Valentine's meat juice? Let me recall your mind to the fact. Dr. Carter took it away on the Friday night, and came back on Saturday morning, having tested it. You learned that before you left the house? Mrs. Briggs: I do not remember. Sir Charles Russell: Did you not mention that to Mrs. Maybrick? Mrs. Briggs: Something was said about it by Nurse Wilson. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect Mrs. Maybrick beginning a sentence when a policeman came into the room and stopped her? Mrs. Briggs: Hesitates. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect the policeman coming into the room? Mrs. Briggs: No. Sir Charles Russell: On the occasion of the conversation at which one of the nurses was present, did not a policeman come into the room and interrupt the conversation? Mrs. Briggs: I do not recollect. Sir Charles Russell: Try to recollect. This lady was practically in custody, and there was a policeman in the house. Was Mrs. Maybrick ill in bed? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Were you in her room? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Was your sister, Mrs. Hughes, is her room? Mrs. Briggs: No, at the door. Sir Charles Russell: Was a nurse in the room? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You and the nurse were in the room, and your sister at the door. On that occasion was there any conversation which was interrupted? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. My sister said to me, "You are not to say anything," and the policeman said, "You are not to speak." Sir Charles Russell: And was that at the time, as well as you can recollect, when you were mentioning to Mrs. Maybrick what had been found in relation to Valentine's meat juice? Mrs. Briggs: Yes, I think it was. Sir Charles Russell: Did you gather from what your sister said that it was the policeman who desired that there should be no conversation with Mrs. Maybrick about this? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: The door was open? Mrs. Briggs: Well, yes; it was partly open -- it was not shut. Sir Charles Russell: Exactly. Your sister and the policeman, being on the landing, could hear the fact that there was a conversation going on? Mrs. Briggs: Yes, they could. Sir Charles Russell: These rooms are not very large, I believe? Mrs. Briggs: Not very, but they are a good size. Sir Charles Russell: And they could hear the conversation? Mrs. Briggs: Yes, every word. Sir Charles Russell: It was upon the conversation in this room on Valentine's meat juice that the policeman said you must have no conversation? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Then the conversation, if there was any, was interrupted in that way? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Had you been more than a moment or two in that room at that time? Mrs. Briggs: I was never very long at any time in the room. Sir Charles Russell: On this occasion you had gone into the room and opened the conversation, and your sister interrupted? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Do you know the policeman's name? Mrs. Briggs: No, I do not. Mr. John Addison: Re-examining. When did you first know there were traces of poison in the Valentine meat juice? Mrs. Briggs: I really cannot remember. Mr. John Addison: When did you first learn it? You know you left the house on the Wednesday, and he died on the Saturday. Did you know it before he died? Mrs. Briggs: I think so. Mr. John Addison: When did you know poison was found in the bottle? Mrs. Briggs: I cannot remember the exact day, but my impression is that I heard it before I left the house. Mr. John Addison: Before or after his death? Mrs. Briggs: Before his death. Mr. John Addison: Now, did you mention that in any shape or form to Mrs. Maybrick? Mrs. Briggs: I really could not say for certain. I think Nurse Wilson mentioned it. Mr. John Addison: To Mrs. Maybrick? Mrs. Briggs: Yes. Mr. John Addison: Did you mention anything about it? Mrs. Briggs: I may have done, but I have forgotten, and could not say positively. Mr. John Addison: Now, do you know whether any other poison was found in the house? Mrs. Briggs: I do not remember; there were so many bottles that I cannot remember. I heard there had been poison found in the bottles. Mr. John Addison: When did you hear about the fly- papers? Mrs. Briggs: I heard about them on Wednesday. Mr. John Addison: And did you speak about them to Mrs. Maybrick? Mrs. Briggs: No. Mr. John Addison: Now, with regard to handing the letter to the policeman at the door, all letters or messages had to go through him, had they not? Mrs. Briggs: Yes; I handed it to him, so that it might be forwarded. Dr. Fuller is now called, but does not appear. Witness: Mrs. Martha Louisa Hughes Mrs. M.L. Hughes:Examined by Mr. Addison. I am a sister of Mrs. Briggs. I live in Sefton Park, Liverpool, and was acquainted with the late Mr. Maybrick for a considerable time. We met several times at Battlecrease House, where I went with my sister. I was at the house the day after his death. I found some letters (produced) in the middle drawer of the dressing-table, and handed them to Mr. Michael Maybrick. The dressing-table was in Mrs. Maybrick's bedroom. A day or two after Mr. Maybrick's death I heard a conversation take place between Mrs. Maybrick and my sister in the morning-room downstairs. The conversation was with reference to a telegram to a nurse. I don't remember saying anything about a policeman being there. Sir Charles Russell: Cross-examining. How long were you in the house? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: Till Tuesday evening. Sir Charles Russell: Were the circumstances of the death the subject of the conversation between you and your sister and the nurse? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect hearing that arsenic was traced, and that it had been found in a bottle of Valentine's meat juice? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And you also heard something about fly-papers? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did you hear also of a packet labeled, "Poison" being found? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Now, when did you hear about these things? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: I do not quite know what you mean. Sir Charles Russell: When did you learn about Valentine's meat juice? Did you learn that on Saturday or Sunday? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: I heart it on the Saturday. Sir Charles Russell: Was it from Dr. Carter you heard it? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: No. Sir Charles Russell: From whom? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: Mr. Michael Maybrick. Sir Charles Russell: And when did you learn about the fly- papers? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: On the Wednesday before the death. Sir Charles Russell: Also from Mr. Michael Maybrick? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: No. Sir Charles Russell: From whom? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: From Nurse Yapp. Sir Charles Russell: And when did you learn about the packet being found labeled, "Poison?" Mrs. M.L. Hughes: I heard that on the Sunday after the death. Justice Stephen: On what day did you hear about the Valentine's meat juice? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: On the Saturday evening. Justice Stephen: And the day of the fly-papers? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: On the Wednesday before his death. Sir Charles Russell: Were you there when Mrs. Maybrick was very ill and was in bed? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And I do not know whether you were there when she was carried from the dressing-room into the spare room? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: I was in the passage. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect your being on the landing outside the spare room where Mrs. Briggs, your sister, and one of the nurses was in the room with Mrs. Maybrick? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: Yes; I was out on the landing every time my sister was in the room. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect a policeman being on the landing also and interrupting a conversation? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And were you and he both in the position of hearing a conversation? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect what that conversation was about? Had it reference to the Valentine's meat juice, and the traces of arsenic supposed to be found in it? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Can you recollect whether Mrs. Maybrick was beginning to make any statement with reference to it or not? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: No. Sir Charles Russell: Or upon your sister mentioning this? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: I do not remember. Sir Charles Russell: Did the policeman intervene and say there must be no conversation? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And that you conveyed into the other room? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: The door was open; I did not go in. Sir Charles Russell: But did you convey that into the room? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Which put an end to any explanation or conversation? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: Yes. Mr. Addison: Do you remember what the conversation was about? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: No. Mr. Addison: You can only say there was something said. You said the policeman had said nothing was to be said, and you repeated it? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: Yes. Mr. Addison: When had you a conversation with Nurse Yapp? Mrs. M.L. Hughes: On the Wednesday. Mr. Addison: What did Nurse Yapp say? Sir Charles Russell: I object. Justice Stephen: Sir Charles Russell is quite right. Witness: Mr. Edwin Maybrick Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Examined by Mr. Addison. I am a brother of the deceased. I am a cotton merchant in Liverpool, and spend a good deal of my time in America. I returned from that country on 25th April, and on the following day I saw my brother in his office. I dined with him that evening. He appeared to be in his usual health. So far as I knew my brother on the whole enjoyed very good health. From time to time he took ordinary liver medicine. Mr. Addison: Any sort of arsenic? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: No. Continuing. On Saturday, 27th April, I saw my brother for a moment when passing to the Wirral races. On Sunday, the 28th, I went to his house and found him lying on a sofa, apparently ill. He said he had been taken ill on the previous morning, but that feeling somewhat better, he had gone out to the Wirral races, where he had not felt himself the whole day. He also said that he had numbness in the legs and in the hands. After he returned, about eight o'clock in the evening, Mrs. Maybrick sat talking to me in the breakfast-room for nearly an hour. A ring then came from the chamber bell, and Mrs. Maybrick went upstairs. I followed, and found my brother lying in bed. He had almost lost the use of both legs and his right hand. He asked me to rub them for him, and Mrs. Maybrick and I did so until Dr. Humphreys came. I stayed at the house that night, at my brother's request, and on Monday morning I found him rather better. I went out and did not see him again till the next day. He was then pretty much the same as on Monday. On Wednesday, 1st May, my brother went to business. Mrs. Maybrick gave me a parcel to take to his office. I afterwards learned that it contained a brown jug in which there was some farinaceous food in liquid form. My brother poured the liquid into a saucepan and heated it over the fire, and he then poured it into a basin and partook of it. He remarked, "The cook has put some of that -- sherry into it, and she knows I don't like it." Some time after that I asked him how he was, and he said that he had not felt so well since his lunch. I went in the evening to Battlecrease House to dinner. My brother was not quite so well then as in the morning, but he complained of nothing particular. I did not see my brother take his lunch on the Thursday. On Friday I was informed that he had gone to have a Turkish bath. I did not see my brother again until Sunday, the 5th, when I went to the house. He told me he had been very sick, and that he vomited, and could not retain anything in his stomach. I gave him a brandy and soda, which he retained for about half an hour, but on my giving him a dose of physic he vomited it. He was very sick all that afternoon. Dr. Humphreys came that evening and said he had better not take anything to eat or drink for the present, and if he were thirsty he was to have a wet towel put to his mouth. I did not see any towel put to his mouth. My brother asked me to stay for the night, and after that day he never left his bed. On the Thursday he was still very sick, but he was rather better than he was on the previous day. In consequence of a telegram which I received from Mrs. Maybrick on the Tuesday I arranged with Dr. Carter to be at Battlecrease House at half-past five, and I also telegraphed to Dr. Humphreys to join us there. On arriving at Battlecrease by the 4:45 train, I met the doctors there, and told them what I knew of my brother's condition. On that night my brother's condition was pretty much the same; he was very weak, he was vomiting, and he was pained in the bowels as well. He complained very much about his throat and about having a difficulty in swallowing. On Wednesday, the 8th, he seemed a little better. I asked him whether he would like me to bring my brother Michael down, but he said no -- that he did not think it was necessary, that he had been very ill, but he felt a little better. He asked me what I thought about sending for a nurse, and I told him that I would ask the doctor. Mrs. Maybrick said she thought of sending to Halewood for a nurse who had been attending her, because my brother knew her and liked her. I saw Dr. Carter that morning, and, in consequence of what he told me, I did not telegraph for my brother at that time. About twelve o'clock that day I received another telegram from Mrs. Maybrick. I do not have that telegram here; I am not quite certain as to whether it was was destroyed. In it she said, "Jim worse again; have wired for a nurse." On receipt of that message I telegraphed to my brother Michael to come down, and I went myself to Battlecrease by the 12:40 train. I met Mrs. Briggs and Mrs. Hughes there, and in consequence of a conversation which I had with them I went to the Nurses' Institution. I found that Nurse Gore had already been sent to Battlecrease. Approaching the house, I saw Nurse Yapp in the drive. We went to a seat in the garden, out of sight of the house, and there she gave me the letter addressed to Mr. Brierley. Later in the day I met my brother Michael as he arrived from London. On the way to the house we had a conversation, and when we got to Battlecrease I gave certain instructions to Nurse Gore. The following day my brother was better, and I went to town to arrange for nurses. On Friday morning I went to bring Dr. Humphreys. About one o'clock my brother became worse and could not take any nourishment, and at half-past eight in the evening of Saturday, the 11th, he died. I first saw the chocolate box in the breakfast room when it was brought down by Nurse Yapp. The policeman came on the Sunday evening. On Monday a post-mortem examination was held, and the preliminary inquest was held on the Tuesday. The dressing-gown produced is, I think, Mrs. Maybrick's. It was worn by her when she was attending to my brother at night, and also in the morning. The gown was taken by one of the professional nurses out of the room, and was hung up in the lavatory, which was then open. I took it out of there and put it into a cupboard. The next time I had anything to do with the gown was on 13th June, when I handed it over to Inspector Baxendale. The apron produced was also, I believe, with the dressing-gown, but I cannot be quite certain. I noticed a handkerchief in the pocket of the dressing-gown, and I handed it and the apron to Inspector Baxendale. Sir Charles Russell: Cross-examining. When did you arrive at Battlecrease? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: On the 25th April. Sir Charles Russell: Were you backwards and forwards at Battlecrease up to the time of your brother's death? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did you sleep at the house a number of days? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: How many? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: I slept there on the Sunday after I arrived, on the Tuesday, the 30th April, and not again until the Sunday following, and then I slept there every night until his death. Sir Charles Russell: And, with the exception of a few nights, you were there the greater part of the time? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did Mrs. Maybrick seem attentive to her husband? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did she sit up at night? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes, most nights, I believe. I understand so. Sir Charles Russell: Were you in the house on Sunday, the 28th April? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Were you there when she sent for Dr. Humphreys on the Sunday? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes, in the evening. He had already been there in the morning before I arrived. Sir Charles Russell: Were you there when she sent for him in the first instance? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: No. Sir Charles Russell: But you have ascertained, I presume, that she had sent for him in the morning? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Were you there at the time? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: No. Sir Charles Russell: He was the only medical man living near to the house? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes. He only lived ten minutes' walk away. Sir Charles Russell: Dr. Humphreys was in sole attendance upon him up to Tuesday, the 7th? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes, as far as I know. Sir Charles Russell: And on Tuesday, the 7th May, Dr. Carter was called in, and he and Dr. Humphreys were in attendance upon the patient up to his death? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect on the Tuesday Mrs. Maybrick suggesting that you should send your own medical man? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: She telegraphed to me suggesting that Dr. M'Cheyne (a medical man and a friend of mine) should be sent for. Dr. M'Cheyne did not go out as a rule, but held consultations. Mrs. Maybrick had heard me mention the name to my brother James, and that was how she came to know the name. Sir Charles Russell: You went to Dr. Carter? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Had you any communication with Dr. Carter before you went to Battlecrease? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: No. I never saw him. Sir Charles Russell: You had not written to him? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: I telephoned to him. Sir Charles Russell: You communicated with him to make an appointment, but had no communication with him until he came to Battlecrease? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: That was Tuesday? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Had he any communication with Dr. Humphreys before he came out to Battlecrease? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Not to my knowledge. Sir Charles Russell: Another matter I wish to ask you about. Did she speak about a nurse? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Was that first mentioned on Tuesday or Wednesday? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: It was first mentioned on Wednesday morning. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect whether the nurse was Mrs. Low, of Hale? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: I don't recollect any name being mentioned. Sir Charles Russell: Was it some one at Hale? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Was the telegram sent to that person? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: I do not know. Sir Charles Russell: Have you heard since? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: I have since learned that she was telegraphed for. Sir Charles Russell: The conversation about the nurse being sent for was early on Wednesday morning, was it not, before you went to town? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: From the Wednesday morning until the death had you privately forbidden any intervention by Mrs. Maybrick in the nursing or administration of medicine or food? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: I instructed Nurse Gore. I gave orders on Wednesday night, and repeated them on Thursday morning. Sir Charles Russell: Were the orders on Wednesday night or on Wednesday morning? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: On Wednesday night. The nurse did not arrive till Wednesday afternoon. Sir Charles Russell: Which nurse? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Nurse Gore. Sir Charles Russell: At two o'clock, did she not? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes, but I did not see her. Sir Charles Russell: What time of day did you see her? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: As far as I can recollect, at about five o'clock. Sir Charles Russell: As far as you know and have observed, were your orders on that point observed and carried out? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Upon the whole, I think they were. Sir Charles Russell: The nurses are here who had successive charge of him -- one relieving the other, I believe? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: They are, I believe. Sir Charles Russell: Now, I want this quite definitely -- your instructions were specific and distinct, that neither as to medicine, nor as to food, was Mrs. Maybrick to have anything to do with it? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: I never mentioned her name in the matter, but I told the nurses I should hold them responsible for all foods and all medicines given to him, and that nobody was to attend to him at all except the nurses. But I did not mention any names. Sir Charles Russell: Still, that would be the effect of the orders? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes, it would. I would exclude her and everybody else except the nurses. Sir Charles Russell: But there was nobody else to exclude? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: There might have been a servant for all I knew. Sir Charles Russell: But, at all events, it was Mrs. Maybrick you had in your mind? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did you tell her you had given these instructions? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: No. Sir Charles Russell: Or did you address any statement, or advice, or direction to her on the matter? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: No, none whatever, as far as I can recollect. Sir Charles Russell: Now, as to another matter. What was the day on which you took down food to the office? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Wednesday, 1st May. Sir Charles Russell: Can you tell me if the previous occasion on which food was taken to the office was on the Tuesday? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: The only days on which food was taken down were Wednesday and Thursday. Sir Charles Russell: So far as you know, food was not taken down to the office except on those two days? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: So far as I know. Sir Charles Russell: Now, I ask you this -- Did you learn how the food affected your brother on the Wednesday; do you suggest that he was sick after it? By sick do you mean vomiting? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Oh, no. I do not suggest any such thing. No, I have never stated that. I spoke to him on that occasion, and he said that he did not feel so well since his lunch. Sir Charles Russell: Is it not the fact that, on that same day, he dined at home in company with your wife? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: I beg your pardon, I am not married. Sir Charles Russell: It is my mistake. The company consisted of Captain Irving, of the White Star Line, yourself, your brother, and his wife? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes. Justice Stephen: The food was taken down by you on Wednesday and by some one else on the second day; which day was it when you asked him how he felt, and when he said he did not feel so well after luncheon? Sir Charles Russell: That was on Wednesday, my lord; it was the day when he had dinner at home with Captain Irving and his brother. Continuing cross-examination. Now, there is another matter I should like to ask you about, and that is, if you have seen the cash-box which Mrs. Maybrick said was hers? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes, it is a small cash-box. Sir Charles Russell: You are aware that possession of the box was demanded by Mr. Cleaver. Where is it? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: It is at the house now; it is locked up in the linen closet. The house, with the exception of the linen closet, is empty. Sir Charles Russell: Is there any objection to its being produced? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: None, so far as I know. Sir Charles Russell: Did you find amongst your brother's papers a bundle of prescriptions? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: There were several prescriptions found in the room on its being searched by Mr. Baxendale. Sir Charles Russell: Where are they? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Mr. Baxendale took possession of them. Sir Charles Russell: Where are they? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: I do not know. Sir Charles Russell: Are you sure you do not? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: So far as I know, I did not see a prescription of Dr. Ward. Sir Charles Russell: There may have been one amongst those which Mr. Baxendale took? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: There may have been. Sir Charles Russell: Have you not said to Mr. Baxendale that you had seen them? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: I do not remember. Sir Charles Russell: Are they in Court? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: I cannot say. Sir Charles Russell: Did you find any of these prescriptions -- any from Dr. Ward, of Norfolk, Virginia? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Not that I am aware of. I should have noticed them at once, knowing the gentleman, if I had seen anything of the kind. Sir Charles Russell: So far as you recollect, you did not see them? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: I did not. Sir Charles Russell: But they may have been amongst these prescriptions? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes; they may have been. Sir Charles Russell: Did you not get any prescriptions at the office among your brother's papers? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Mr. Baxendale went to the office; and, if there were any, he must have taken them away. Sir Charles Russell: My first question way, did you find any there? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: So far as I remember, no; but Mr. Baxendale may have done. Sir Charles Russell: In addition to these, there were a large number of bottles found at the office? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes, I believe so. Sir Charles Russell: I am told as many as twenty-eight. There was no arsenic in these? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: I believe not. Sir Charles Russell: Can you make it convenient to look at the prescriptions tonight, and see whether there are any from Dr. Ward, of Virginia? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Certainly, if they are handed to me. Sir Charles Russell: There is another matter to which I should allude now. On the 30th of April, you did not think your brother was very unwell? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: No; not seriously so. Sir Charles Russell: You escorted his wife to some entertainment -- to a domino ball? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes; to a private domino ball at Wavertree. Sir Charles Russell: You were her escort on that occasion? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did you know that he was taking ipecacuanha wine at the time? Mr. Edwin Maybrick: I don't know. Witness: Thomas Symington Wokes Mr. T.S. Wokes: Examined by Mr. Swift. I am a chemist in Aigburth, and I also have the post office there. I knew the late Mr. Maybrick and his wife. Here Justice Stephen interrupts, saying he has received from Mr. Edwin Maybrick a number of prescriptions, and asks if Sir Charles Russell wished to see them. Sir Charles answers in the affirmative. Mr. T.S. Wokes: Continuing. I remember an occasion when Mrs. Maybrick called upon me, somewhere about the 24th April last, and purchased from me a dozen fly-papers. The fly-papers (produced) are of a similar kind to the ones I sold her. She made a remark to me at the time that the flies were beginning to get troublesome in the kitchen. I had sold only one lot of fly-papers before that during the present year. I had an account against the deceased, but Mrs. Maybrick paid for the fly-papers. I sent my boy with the fly-papers to the house. Sir Charles Russell: Cross-examining. You knew Mrs. Maybrick very well? Mr. T.S. Wokes: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: She lived close to you? Mr. T.S. Wokes: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Probably you would address her by her name? Mr. T.S. Wokes: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You sold fly-papers at other times not in hot weather? Mr. T.S. Wokes: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Are you aware that washed for the hair are made from it? Mr. T.S. Wokes: I am not aware of it. Sir Charles Russell: But you have yourself sold papers in the season when they have not been wanted for killing flies? Mr. T.S. Wokes: I cannot remember a similar instance except the lot I sold -- the one previous to this lot. But the first lot was not for a wash or flies. Sir Charles Russell: What were they wanted for? Mr. T.S. Wokes: For beetles. Sir Charles Russell: When was that, do you recollect? Mr. T.S. Wokes: I believe it was in the month of February. Sir Charles Russell: It was for some one whom you knew, also? Mr. T.S. Wokes: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Was this parcel rolled up with the ends open? Was it wrapped up with the ends turned in cylindrical form? Mr. T.S. Wokes: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: She didn't take them with her? Mr. T.S. Wokes: No. Sir Charles Russell: What are they a dozen? Mr. T.S. Wokes: Sixpence a dozen. Sir Charles Russell: How long have you been in business there? Mr. T.S. Wokes: One year and eleven months. Mr. Addison: Re-examining. Have you any means of fixing the date when these fly-papers were purchased? Mr. T.S. Wokes: It was not earlier than the 15th nor later than the 25th of April. Witness: Christopher Hanson Mr. C. Hanson: Examined by Mr. Swift. I am a chemist and druggist at Cressington. Mrs. Maybrick was a customer at my shop. On the 29th April last she came to my shop for a lotion and purchased two dozen fly-papers, which cost one shilling. The fly- papers were similar to those produced. She had an account running, and did not usually pay at the time of ordering. Upon this occasion she paid for the fly-papers, but not for the lotion. She took the fly-papers with her. I have since analyzed some of my fly-papers, and have found each paper to contain from one to two and a half grains of arsenic. Sir Charles Russell: Cross-examining. Was it not arsenic of soda? Mr. C. Hanson: No, it was arsenical acid, or white arsenic. Sir Charles Russell: White arsenic is another name for it? Mr. C. Hanson: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: How long have you been in your business, Mr. Hanson? Mr. C. Hanson: Two and a half years. Sir Charles Russell: Cressington is close to Battlecrease; it is in the neighbourhood of Aigburth? Mr. C. Hanson: Yes, it is about ten minutes' walk from it. Sir Charles Russell: How long have you known Mrs. Maybrick? Mr. C. Hanson: From a few days after going to Cressington. Sir Charles Russell: You had an account from the house? Mr. C. Hanson: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: These lotions and things which you have to make up are such that the price must be computed in accordance with the ingredients? Mr. C. Hanson: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: But in the case of fly-papers that is not so? Mr. C. Hanson: No, they have their regular price. Sir Charles Russell: You just describe to us what took place in the shop when Mrs. Maybrick bought the things. Mr. C. Hanson: She came into the shop and brought a paper with the ingredients of a lotion written down; it was not a doctor's prescription. She had that made up, and while waiting, and I suppose seeing the fly-papers on the counter, she asked for some. Sir Charles Russell: They were on the counter, were they? You have not told us about that yet. Mr. C. Hanson: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: They were in a conspicuous position? Mr. C. Hanson: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Just explain how that was. Mr. C. Hanson: There was a glass case, and on either side of the glass case there was a shelf, and it was on the shelf nearest the door that these fly-papers were. Sir Charles Russell: And while the lotion was being prepared she gave the order for the fly-papers? Mr. C. Hanson: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: What was the lotion which she ordered -- what were the ingredients? Mr. C. Hanson: Tincture of benzoin and elderflowers. Sir Charles Russell: That is a cosmetic, is it not? Mr. C. Hanson: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Is it within your experience that arsenic is an ingredient in many cosmetic preparations? Mr. C. Hanson: It is, sir; quite common. Sir Charles Russell: It softens the skin? Mr. C. Hanson: I don't know what it is for. Sir Charles Russell: You know, I presume, it is a depilatory? Justice Stephen: To the jury. That is, it takes off hairs. Mr. C. Hanson: I am not aware it has that quality. Sir Charles Russell: You know that it is sold by artists in hair for that purpose? Mr. C. Hanson: I don't know, sir. Sir Charles Russell: I must further ask you -- knowing, as you have told us, that arsenic was common as an ingredient in cosmetics, is not that mixture of benzoin and elderflowers a lotion in which arsenic would very likely be used? Mr. C. Hanson: Yes, sir, it is. Sir Charles Russell: Is it not a very common thing to sell arsenical fly-papers at seasons when they are not wanted for the destruction of insects? Have you not so sold them? Mr. C. Hanson: Not in the depth of winter. Sir Charles Russell: But in the spring and autumn? Mr. C. Hanson: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did you know the purposes for which they were going to be applied? Mr. C. Hanson: No. Sir Charles Russell: I understand that you have sold them at a time when they were not needed for the destruction of flies? Mr. C. Hanson: Sometimes. Sir Charles Russell: Now I don't know whether you, as a chemist, make up and sell lotions for toilet purposes? Mr. C. Hanson: I do; but I don't make up any lotions containing arsenic. Sir Charles Russell: I do not suggest that; but lotions for toilet purposes? Mr. C. Hanson: Oh, yes. I very frequently make up similar lotions to what Mrs. Maybrick had, but I have no proprietary lotion. Sir Charles Russell: You make them up if you are asked? Mr. C. Hanson: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And only when you are asked? Mr. C. Hanson: Yes. Mr. Addison: Re-examining. Did you ever sell fly- papers for the purpose of making cosmetics? Mr. C. Hanson: No. Mr. Addison: Is it not a fact that in cosmetics arsenic is used? Mr. C. Hanson: Not in my case. Mr. Addison: In what form is it generally used? Mr. C. Hanson: It is used as a paste, and it is combined with bismuth. Mr. Addison: You believe, as a matter of knowledge in your profession, it is used in these cosmetics? Mr. C. Hanson: Yes. Mr. Addison: What are its effects? Mr. C. Hanson: I do not know. Mr. Addison: Did you ever hear of its being used as a cosmetic except in the regular form? Mr. C. Hanson: No. Mr. Addison: Not fly-papers? Mr. C. Hanson: Certainly not. Witness: John Sefton. Mr. J. Sefton: Examined. I am an assistant to Mr. Wokes. I do not recollect how long ago I was sent with a parcel to Battlecrease House, and went to the back door with it. I was told to put it on the stairs, and I did so, and left it there. It was a parcel given to me by Mr. Wokes for Mrs. Maybrick. Witness: George Smith Mr. G. Smith: Examined by Mr. Addison. I was bookkeeper to the late Mr. James Maybrick for a period of four years. The deceased's health was generally good. He sometimes complained of his liver. He had discussed the question of homeopathy, but not with me. On the day of the Wirral races deceased came to the office at about half-past ten in the morning. He was not looking well, and went away between twelve and one o'clock. On the following Monday, the 29th, he came to the office at about two o'clock. He did not look very well. On the 30th he came to the office at one o'clock, and still did not look well. On Wednesday, the 1st May, he came to the office, and I saw him warming food in a pan for his lunch. I did not notice him particularly after his lunch. He said on the Wednesday that he was very seedy. On Thursday he came to the office again, and also on Friday. On that day he did not seem at all well. He was very pale. He left, and never came again. Sir Charles Russell: Cross-examining. There were no medicine bottles sold from the office? Do you know what was done with the bottles, or whose perquisites they were? Mr. G. Smith: They never were sold with my knowledge. Sir Charles Russell: If they were sold, who would have the right to sell? Mr. G. Smith: I don't know. Sir Charles Russell: Are you aware of any of these bottles being sold? Mr. G. Smith: I am not aware. Sir Charles Russell: How many were found in the office at the time of his death? Mr. G. Smith: I think twenty. Sir Charles Russell: I am told twenty-eight. But, however, were some of these endorsed in writing by the deceased himself? Mr. G. Smith: I don't know. Sir Charles Russell: You didn't examine them? Mr. G. Smith: No. Sir Charles Russell: Beyond your observation that he did not look very well, was there anything at all in his condition to attract your attention? Mr. G. Smith: No; he seemed to be very pale. Sir Charles Russell: Was there anything further? Mr. G. Smith: No. Sir Charles Russell: Was he ever sick in the office? Mr. G. Smith: No. Mr. Addison: Re-examining. Were all the medicine bottles found in the office given up to Inspector Baxendale? Mr. G. Smith: Yes. Witness: Thomas Lowry Mr. T. Lowry: Examined by Mr. McConnell. I was in the employment of the late Mr. James Maybrick for nearly five years. On Saturday, the 27th April, the deceased came down to the office about eleven o'clock, and in my hearing he made complaint of stiffness in his limbs. He left the office between twelve and one to go to some races. On Monday, the 29th, the deceased came down to the office between eleven and twelve, looking unwell. To the best of my recollection, he came down on the Tuesday, and stayed about half an hour. I was sent out with a parcel, and I took out some letters. The parcel contained some of Du Barry's food, "Revalenta Arabica," and I took it from the office to the house. I recollect Mr. Maybrick coming to the office on the 1st May, about eleven o'clock. He sent me out to buy a saucepan, a basin, and a spoon. The articles produced are something like those I purchased. Upon giving the articles to Mr. Maybrick, he poured some liquid into the saucepan out of a jug, and put it on the fire, and he afterwards partook of it. The vessels were afterwards left in the office. On the next day, when he came to the office, he wasn't very well. He had lunch again, and warmed the food as he had done on the previous day. He only took some of it. On Friday, the 3rd May, he was down at the office, but he was never there after. There were a number of bottles at the office, having accumulated since I had been there. Before this time the general health of Mr. Maybrick had been good. Sir Charles Russell: Cross-examining. Do you recollect his having been ill once at the office three or four years ago? Mr. T. Lowry: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Except on that occasion, had anything occurred to attract attention in relation to his health? Mr. T. Lowry: Not previous to the beginning of April. Sir Charles Russell: In April you did not think he seemed very well? Mr. T. Lowry: No, he looked pale. Witness: Mrs. Eliza F. Busher Mrs. E.F. Busher: Examined. I am a charwoman. I cleaned the offices of the late Mr. James Maybrick. On the morning of 2nd May I washed the pan and other vessels produced. On the following morning I saw the vessels had been used again, and that particles of food were left adhering to them, some white and some black. I cleaned the vessels, and put them on the mantelpiece. There were not many old medicine bottles in the office. Sir Charles Russell: Cross-examining. Did you see the food? Mrs. E.F. Busher: Yes; the dark food was like beef tea, but I do not know what the white food was made of. Sir Charles Russell: Did you see what was in the cupboard? Mrs. E.F. Busher: No, sir. The Court Adjourns

 

The Trial of Florence Maybrick August 1st, 1889 Witness: Dr. Charles Fuller Dr. Fuller: examined my Mr. Addison. I am a member of the Royal College of Surgeons, practising at Alwyn Street, near Wellington Mansions, Regent’s Park. In April last I was in medical attendance on Mr. Maybrick. In consequence of a letter from Mr. Michael Maybrick, I went to his chambers, Wellington Mansions, Regent’s Park, on Sunday, 14th April, for the purpose of examining his brother, James Maybrick. I saw Mr. James Maybrick, and made an examination of him, and heard what he had to say. He complained of pains in his head and of numbness, and said he was apprehensive of being paralysed. Mr. Addison: What made him think that? Dr. Fuller: He had lost some sensation, and felt numb. The examination lasted over an hour. I found there was nothing the matter with him. I told him there was very little the matter with him, but that he was suffering from indigestion, and that I was perfectly certain there was no fear of paralysis. The symptoms were those which might be attributed to indigestion. When I told him this he seemed more cheerful. I did prescribe for him. Those two prescriptions (produced) are the ones I prescribed on the 14th for him. The one is an aperient and the other a tonic, with liver pills. On the following Saturday, the 20th, deceased came to my house and told me that he felt much better. I examined him again, and found him better. The dyspeptic symptoms of which he complained had partially disappeared. I thereupon slightly altered the prescription and wrote another (produced). In it compound sulphur lozenges were substituted for pills, and a little sweet spirits of nitre added. The third prescription I would describe as a tonic—a stomach and nerve tonic. None of the three prescriptions contained arsenic in any shape or form. Deceased told me he had been taking a pill which he said I had prescribed for his brother. This, however, was not the case. I had not prescribed it. That pill contained powdered rhubarb, extract of aloes, and extract of camomile flowers, and was a mild aperient. He told me of nothing else he had been taking. He never suggested to me that he had been taking arsenic during any part of his life. I knew nothing about it at that time. It was ever suggested to me by him. I asked him if he had been taking any medicine, and he said that the pill was the only thing he ad been taking. I have had thirty years’ experience as a practitioner. I know the symptoms which accompany the taking of arsenic. Take away from your mind all question of arsenical poisoning. Mr. Addison: How is arsenic generally taken? Dr. Fuller: It is taken, as a rule, in a fluid form, in Fowler’s solution, is made from arsenious acid dissolved in a solution of potash. The dose varies from one to eight minims. I saw no indication in Mr. Maybrick of his having been a person who had been in the habit of taking arsenic. Mr. Fuller: Are there symptoms which accompany the habitual use of arsenic? Dr. Fuller: Yes, but they were not present in this case. Arsenic is given in cases of intermittent fever; but Mr. Maybrick did not complain of that. I had no reason to suppose he was taking arsenic. Sir Charles Russell: Your attention was not directed to the matter at all? Dr. Fuller: No. Sir Charles Russell: You did not examine him for any symptoms of the use of arsenic? Dr. Fuller: No. Sir Charles Russell: I believe he complained of pain in his head and numbness of his right leg; he was apprehensive of paralysis on that side? Dr. Fuller: Yes, I believe he was. Sir Charles Russell: Did he also complain of derangement of the digestion? Dr. Fuller: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did he tell you these symptoms were symptoms of old standing? Dr. Fuller: No, he did not. Sir Charles Russell: Did he tell you he had had the numbness before? Dr. Fuller: I cannot recollect. Sir Charles Russell: Do you know now that they were of old standing—that he had complained of them as far back as 1882? Dr. Fuller: I have not that knowledge. Sir Charles Russell: You examined him, and found him free from organic disease? Dr. Fuller: Yes, I did. Sir Charles Russell: He told you he had been taking some pills you had prescribed for his brother, and you understood him to say that was the only medicine he had been recently taking? Dr. Fuller: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Was he a man who seemed inclined to exaggerate his symptoms? Dr. Fuller: I thought so. He seemed a nervous man. Sir Charles Russell: As regards the pills, they are described as Plummer’s pills? Dr. Fuller: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Plummer’s pills contain from a grain to a grain and a quarter in each pill? Dr. Fuller: Yes, of the sulphuret of antimony. Sir Charles Russell: I don’t think that you on the second occasion gave any fresh directions about Plummer’s pills; you simply told him to continue? Dr. Fuller: I told him to omit the pills, and take lozenges as a substitute. Sir Charles Russell: I was struck by one observation you made in answer to a question my friend put to you as to whether any suggestion was made about his taking arsenic, your answer being, as I took it down, "No, it was not suggested to me by him then"? Dr. Fuller: It was never suggested to me. Sir Charles Russell: Then you do not mean to qualify your answer? Dr. Fuller: No; if I have suggested that subsequently a suggestion of the kind was made, I do not wish to do so. Sir Charles Russell: You mean to say, then, that it has never been suggested to you? Dr. Fuller: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: I understand you. You mean that it was never suggested to you by any one? Dr. Fuller: Never suggested by any one. Sir Charles Russell: No opinion has been asked of you with reference to the supposition of his having at any time taken arsenic habitually? Dr. Fuller: No; I have never been asked about it. Sir Charles Russell: In reference to the use of arsenic, I think when conveyed medicinally it is frequently conveyed in Fowler’s solution? Dr. Fuller: Yes, frequently; but I ought to say there is another solution of arsenic made with hydrochloric acid. Sir Charles Russell: Fowler’s solution is the more common one? Dr. Fuller: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: I wish to make it quite clear; it contains arsenic which has been made completely dissoluble—it has completely dissolved? Dr. Fuller: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: May I presume generally that it is made from crude or arsenious acid? Dr. Fuller: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: It is arsenious acid in a state of solution? Dr. Fuller: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: It dissolves in water? Dr. Fuller: Yes; but not so easily. Sir Charles Russell: Have you ever known a case at all in your experience of a person in the habit of taking arsenic not prescribed in doctor’s doses—any case in your own experience? Dr. Fuller: Yes, several cases. Sir Charles Russell: Under prescriptions? Dr. Fuller: No: they had a prescription first, and subsequently got it from the chemist on their own account. Sir Charles Russell: In small doses? Dr. Fuller: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Any experience of your own kind? Dr. Fuller: Yes, one. Sir Charles Russell: When was that? Dr. Fuller: About six years ago. Sir Charles Russell: Had you prescribed it? Dr. Fuller: Yes, originally. Sir Charles Russell: And after your prescription it had been continued without, as I understand, your authority? Dr. Fuller: It had. Sir Charles Russell: And what was the result? Dr. Fuller: He got a swelling about the eyelids and a redness of the eyes, together with a tenderness over the stomach. Sir Charles Russell: Would those be the symptoms which you would say would be produced by an undue use of arsenic—redness of the eyelids, intolerance of light? Dr. Fuller: No, I do not think there would be an intolerance to light. Sir Charles Russell: But there would be a swelling about the eyelids, redness of the eyes, and a tenderness over the stomach, especially in pressure? Dr. Fuller: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: As far as there are any distinctive indications, would you say those are the most prominent? Dr. Fuller: I do. Sir Charles Russell: But you have found them associated with other cases, cases of undue use of arsenic? Dr. Fuller: I have. Sir Charles Russell: Is it not correct to say that it is impossible to mention one symptom and say that it is distinctly from an over-use of arsenic and from nothing else? Dr. Fuller: I should say so, any one of them. Sir Charles Russell: Did you in the case of the patient come to the conclusion that he or she—I don’t know whether it was a lady or a gentleman? Dr. Fuller: It was a gentleman. Sir Charles Russell: Did you come to the conclusion that he had foolishly prescribed for himself and taken what were excessive doses? Dr. Fuller: They were not excessive doses according to the Pharmacopœia, but they were excessive doses for him. Sir Charles Russell: That is to say, the effect of doses varies according to the idiosyncrasy of the particular person? Dr. Fuller: It does vary in that way. Sir Charles Russell: And regarding the particular state of health and the course of life of the individual? Dr. Fuller: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And the kind of treatment he was undergoing in other respects? Dr. Fuller: All those things would interfere very much with the action of arsenic. Sir Charles Russell: Have you had a case where you had to consider whether the effect of antimony upon a person who was taking arsenic had accentuated the action of arsenic? Dr. Fuller: Personally I have not. Sir Charles Russell: Can you tell me this—whether if a person has been in the habit of taking arsenic the desire for it grows strong; in other words, whether the passion for it increases? Dr. Fuller: No, it is not like opium. Justice Stephen: Your words are, "Nothing like opium." Do I understand you that you know it is not like opium? Dr. Fuller: Yes, my lord. Sir Charles Russell: Just see, Dr. Fuller, if you realise what his lordship is putting to you? Dr. Fuller: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: I was asking you about your own experience, and I understood you to say not. Do you undertake to say that arsenical dosing does not grow upon a person? Dr. Fuller: I am unable to say one way or the other from my own experience. Justice Stephen: Do you, as the result of your general knowledge on the subject, believe that the habit does grow or that it does not grow? Dr. Fuller: That it does not grow. Sir Charles Russell: I must press you upon this. Did the leaving it off in the case of the person to whom you refer cause any depression? Dr. Fuller: Although that case is six years ago, I called upon the gentleman to inquire whether he felt any difference whatever, and he said he did not. Sir Charles Russell: How long did he take it? Dr. Fuller: I cannot tell you exactly, but for some months. Sir Charles Russell: Very well, then, I mush tress you upon this. Do you remember the well-known case, which attracted a great deal of attention among medical men, of the Styrian peasants? Dr. Fuller: I do. Sir Charles Russell: Do you agree that much depression occurs on the withdrawal of the drug from those who take it? Dr. Fuller: Only with those who take it in very large doses. Sir Charles Russell: But those are doses which begin by very small doses? Dr. Fuller: The case to which I refer was very small doses indeed—only about three drops—and therefore there would not be much depression. I account for the absence of depression by the smallness of the doses. Mr. Addison (reexamining the witness): My friend has implied that there is some pleasure in taking arsenic or a passion for it. Have you ever heard of such a thing in your experience? Dr. Fuller: No. I never have. Mr. Addison: My friend speaks of an arsenic habit. Do you recognise any such? Dr. Fuller: No; I really have had no experience. Mr. Addison: Well, but as far as your experience of and treatment of patients go, does the taking of arsenic, as opium, produce pleasure? Dr. Fuller: I never heard of such a thing. Mr. Addison: Did you ever hear of it being taken except by some one how thought it would do him good? Dr. Fuller: No. I never did. Mr. Addison: When you speak of people who have taken arsenic having redness in the eyes and eyelids, have they taken it for medicinal purposes? Dr. Fuller: It may be so. Mr. Addison: What do they generally take it for? Dr. Fuller: Generally for skin eruptions. Mr. Addison: Anything else? Dr. Fuller: Sometimes as a tonic. Mr. Addison: I think the word my friend suggested, something about an aphrodisiacal tendency, it being taken by him for sexual purposes. Did you ever hear that? Dr. Fuller: I have never heard of it. Mr. Addison: To create a desire? Dr. Fuller: I have never heard of arsenic being taken for such purposes. Mr. Addison: Did Mr. Maybrick, in any shape or form, when speaking of his nervousness, ever suggest anything of the kind? Dr. Fuller: He did not. Mr. Addison: Did you ever hear it spoken of in connection with him until this moment? Dr. Fuller: No. Mr. Addison: Were you not here yesterday? Dr. Fuller: No. Mr. Addison: What was the cause of the numbness of which he complained? Dr. Fuller: Functional disturbance of the nerves, I suppose. Mr. Addison: Will any disturbance of the nerves produce numbness? Dr. Fuller: Certain disturbances will. Mr. Addison: Such as disturbances produced by dyspeptic derangements generally? Dr. Fuller: It is almost impossible to say what is the cause of constant disturbances in the nerves. Mr. Addison: How do those who take arsenic for their skins or as a tonic usually take it? Dr. Fuller: It is usually taken by Fowler’s solution. Mr. Addison: Did you ever hear of it being mixed with food or drink or medicine ordered by doctors? Dr. Fuller: Never. Mr. Addison: As a cosmetic, how is it taken? Dr. Fuller: It is taken in water, the same as for other purposes. Mr. Addison: My friend has examined you about Styrian peasants. They say that by gradually increasing the dose, these people get to take large doses, beyond even poisoning doses? Dr. Fuller: So I have read. Mr. Addison: Styrian peasants can take more than those who are unaccustomed to it? Dr. Fuller: So it is said. Mr. Addison: What do they take it for? Dr. Fuller: I don’t know. Mr. Addison: Is there any such habit in England? Dr. Fuller: I never heard of such a thing. Mr. Addison: How many Plummer’s pills did he take? Dr. Fuller: I saw him first on the 14th and again on the 20th. He had taken one every night. Mr. Addison: You don’t know how many he had taken before the 14th? Dr. Fuller: He had taken none. I prescribed them for him.   Witness: Mr. Christopher Robinson Mr. Robinson: I am an assistant to Messrs. Clay & Abraham, chemists, Liverpool. I recollect the late Mr. Maybrick bringing a prescription to the shop on the 16th April and this was compounded in the ordinary way, and handed to Mr. Maybrick. I identify the two bottles (produced). They were given to Mr. Maybrick on the 24th April. Before they were handed to Mr. Maybrick they were carefully tested in the usual way. There was no arsenic in the medicine; and if Fowler’s solution had been present I should have detected it by the smell. Sir Charles Russell: Do you see a mark o the tip of the prescription, "Bell & Co."? They are well-known chemists in London. Now was that on the prescription when it was handed to you on the 16th? Mr. Robinson: It may or may not have been. I cannot say.   Witness: Mr. Fredrick Early Tozer. Mr. Tozer: I am a chemist in the employ of Messrs. Clay & Abraham, Castle Street. I recollect prescriptions being brought to my firm by the late Mr. Maybrick to be made up. "C" prescription, I believe, I dispensed; and also "D", though the mixture only. Of the "E" prescription I dispensed two articles. I compounded them according to the prescription. There was no arsenic in the ingredients. Sir Charles Russell (cross-examining): When you get a prescription to make up in certain proportions, you have to measure, or weigh, the quantities? Mr. Tozer: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Yes, if it is an article in the Pharmacopœia; but pills, I suppose, are already made up? Mr. Tozer: No, I have to make them. Sir Charles Russell: You don’t keep them ready made? Mr. Tozer: We keep one or two ready made in the rolled mass. Sir Charles Russell: That is what I mean. You have the material ready made for some, and then you simply put them in the form of pills? Mr. Tozer: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You don’t compound them for the purpose of each particular prescription? Mr. Tozer: Some I do. (Re-examination): Part of one of the prescriptions was already made.   Witness: Alice Yapp (Nurse) Nurse Yapp: I was a nurse in the family of the Maybricks, and when Mr. Maybrick died I had been with them one year and eight months. During that time there had been nothing the matter with my master. There was an inner room near the bedroom in which Mr. Maybrick slept sometimes, but I am not certain. I remember the day of the Grand National, the 29th April, and before that I was aware that my mistress had gone to London. Before going she said she was visiting London to see her mother, and I promised to write to her. On the day of the Grand National Mrs. Maybrick came home at ten minutes to seven, and my master returned a few minutes after. Mrs. Maybrick entered the nursery and so did Mr. Maybrick; but neither spoke. Mr. Maybrick carried the youngest child down to the nursery. I heard Mr. Maybrick say to Mrs. Maybrick, "This scandal will be all over the town to-morrow." They then went down into the hall, and I heard Mr. Maybrick say, "Florie, I never thought you could come to this." That was all I heard. They then went into the vestibule, and I heard Mr. Maybrick say, "If you once cross this threshold you shall never enter these doors again." I did not know that a cab had been ordered at that time. I went down to Mrs. Maybrick, and asked her to come to her bedroom. She did not answer, and I put my arm around her waist, and took her upstairs. I made the bed for her that night, and she slept in the dressing-room. The next day, on the Saturday, Mrs. Maybrick went out, and Dr. Hopper came in the afternoon. About a fortnight or three weeks after the Grand National the housemaid, Brierley, told me something in the nursery which caused me to go into Mrs. Maybrick’s bedroom. I went there, and I saw the wash-basin covered with a towel, which I took off. There was another town on a plate. I lifted the plate and say a basin containing some fly-papers. I cannot say how many. I knew that they were fly-papers, because I saw "fly-papers" written upon them. There was also a small quantity of liquid in the basin. I put the things back as I found them. Mr. Addison: What did the household consist of besides Mr. and Mrs. Maybrick? Nurse Yapp: I was nurse, Brierley was housemaid, Humphreys was the cook, and the waitress, Cadwallader. Mr. Addison: Did you ever up to that time see any fly-papers in the house at all for killing flies, or anything of that kind? Nurse Yapp: No. So far as I know there were not any flies giving trouble. I do not know what became of the fly-papers, and I never say any again. About ten o’clock in the morning of the Wirral races, 27th April, Mrs. Maybrick spoke to me after the master had left to go to his office. She said that Mr. Maybrick had taken an overdose of medicine. I asked what kind of medicine, and she said, "Some ordered him by a doctor in London. He was very sick and in great pain." That was all that passed. When I went to bed that night my master had not returned. On the next day, Sunday, 28th April, I heard the bedroom bell ring. It was not my duty to answer the bell. As I was coming downstairs I saw Mrs. Maybrick on the landing. She came to the night nursery door, and asked if I would stay with the master. I went into the bedroom and I found that he was lying on the bed with his dressing gown on. My mistress came to the bedroom a few minutes afterwards with a cup in her hand and said to her husband, "Do take this mustard and water; it will remove the brandy and make you sick again if nothing else." I did not see much of him on the Monday and two following days. I was attending to the children at the top of the house. I only know generally from what I heard from the other servants. In the evening of Friday, 3rd May, Mrs. Maybrick brought the children up to see him, and I followed them in to the room. I heard him say that he had been sick again. Later on Mrs. Maybrick told me that he had been sick again. Justice Stephen: Did she say "sick" or "ill"? Nurse Yapp: I am not sure which one. I said that it was very strange that he was sick so long, and that she had better get another doctor. She said that Dr. Humphreys said it was only his liver that was out of order, and then she added, "But all doctors are fools. They say that because it covers a multitude of sins." On Monday, 6th May, Mrs. Maybrick went out shopping. After she had gone, I went into the bedroom, as I heard the master moaning. He seemed flushed and hot, and was moving from one side of the pillow to the other. He asked me if I would rub his hands as he complained of numbness. I did this, and I stayed with him, I should think, for ten minutes. When I went out he said he thought he could go to sleep. I did not see my mistress until the afternoon, when I spoke to her and said that I had seen Mr. Maybrick. I added that I thought she should call for another doctor. I wanted to send for Dr. Hopper, but Mrs. Maybrick said that if he came Mr. Maybrick would not take anything he prescribed. I replied that I did not think but that he would see him if he came. Mr. Addison: Where were the medicines kept at that time? Nurse Yapp: Some on the table in the bedroom and some in Mr. Maybrick’s room. On Tuesday, 7th May, there was a table with medicine bottles near the bedroom door. I saw Mrs. Maybrick on the landing near the bedroom door. Mr. Addison: What was she doing? Nurse Yapp: She was apparently pouring something out of one bottle into another. Mr. Addison: What sort of bottles were they? Nurse Yapp: Medicine bottles. On Wednesday, 8th May, I asked Mrs. Maybrick how the master was, and she said "About the same." I was then near the bedroom. I heard Mr. Maybrick ask Mrs. Maybrick to rub his hands. She said, "You are always wanting your hands rubbed; it does you no good." About three o’clock that afternoon I was in the roadway near the house. Mrs. Maybrick came to the garden gate and gave me a letter to send by the 3.45 post. I opened the letter and read part of it; in the consequence of what I read I did not post it. I gave it to Mr. Edwin Maybrick. Mr. Michael Maybrick and Mr. Edwin Maybrick were in the house that night, and I spoke to both of them. On the next morning, 9th May, I saw Mrs. Maybrick in the night nursery. She said to me, "Do you know I am blamed for this?" I said, "For what?" She answered, "For Mr. Maybrick’s illness." From what Mr. Michael Maybrick told me, Bessie Brierley in the night nursery we found a chocolate box and packet. They were in a tray inside a trunk belonging to Mrs. Maybrick. I opened the chocolate box in the presence of Nurse Wilson. I noticed the label, "Arsenic—poison for cats." I took the chocolate box and parcel as they were found to Mr. Michael Maybrick, and I saw him take the lid off the box. I observed a piece of handkerchief in the box with two bottles underneath. Mr. Addison: This is still Mrs. Maybrick’s trunk? Nurse Yapp: Yes. It was Mrs. Maybrick’s handkerchief. Sir Charles Russell: Do you remember Mrs. Maybrick coming to you and saying that she had been blamed for his illness? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did you say, "Why"? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: What did she say? Nurse Yapp: She said it was for not sending for another doctor and nurse. Sir Charles Russell: I want to go back a little and understand the position of things. You heard the quarrel after the day of the Grand National? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: There had been up to that time no quarrel of any serious nature? Nurse Yapp: No. Sir Charles Russell: And non after the reconciliation? Nurse Yapp: No. Sir Charles Russell: They appeared to be reconciled? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Were you aware that Dr. Hopper had, in the matter of bringing about the reconciliation, acted as Mrs. Maybrick’s friend? Nurse Yapp: Yes, sir. Sir Charles Russell: On that night you know that Mrs. Maybrick had ordered a cab? Nurse Yapp: I heard afterwards. Sir Charles Russell: You knew the cab was there waiting, and she was apparently going away? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: She came down into the hall dressed, apparently for that purpose? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And I think you made some appeal to her yourself, and made some reference to the children? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You appealed to her to come and see the baby? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did she yield? Nurse Yapp: When I put my arm round her waist she came with me. Sir Charles Russell: About this question of the fly-papers. Have you ever acted as lady’s maid? Nurse Yapp: No; only as nurse. Sir Charles Russell: Was it in the morning that the girl Bessie Brierley told you as to having seen these fly-papers? Nurse Yapp: No; it was soon after dinner. Sir Charles Russell: But did she tell you that she had seen them in the morning when she was doing up the room? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And you, out of curiosity, went into the room after the dinner was over? Nurse Yapp: It was about two hours after when I went into the room. Sir Charles Russell: Out of curiosity? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You had no business in the room? Nurse Yapp: No. Sir Charles Russell: And having been told by Bessie Brierley that she had seen them in the morning, you found them still there as she had described them? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Where were they? Nurse Yapp: On the washstand. Sir Charles Russell: In the principle bedroom? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: That is to say, in the bedroom which is directly approached from the landing? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Whereabouts was this washstand placed? Nurse Yapp: By the door leading to the inner room. Sir Charles Russell: And in a position in which you could see it on entering the door of the bedroom? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: These were reported to you by Bessie Brierley as having been there early in the morning, and you have no reason to suppose that they did not continue there the whole of the day till you saw them? Nurse Yapp: No. Sir Charles Russell: That would be about three o’clock? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You did not think it right to ask your mistress anything about them? Nurse Yapp: No. Sir Charles Russell: You were asked about Mr. Maybrick’s health. Do you know that he had been attended to by Dr. Hopper almost constantly, or that he had gone twice to London to consult another doctor? Nurse Yapp: No, I did not know that. Sir Charles Russell: But you said before the coroner, at the inquest, that although you did not hear him complain, he had not looked well for some time. When you say he was in good health, you mean he did not make any complaint which came to your ears? Nurse Yapp: I mean not before the Grand National. Sir Charles Russell: Now, you were examined at the coroner’s inquest. Do you remember giving an answer to this question, "Do you really mean to say that up to the 27th of April he seemed to everybody to be in perfect health?" You answered, did you not, "No, he did not look well for some time, but I did not hear him complain." Now, it is true that he did not look well for some time? Nurse Yapp: Yes, he did not look well after the Grand National. Sir Charles Russell: The fact is that, whatever time you refer to, he did not kook well for some time? Nurse Yapp: No. Sir Charles Russell: Do you know that he had been ordered to Harrogate for his health in the previous year? Nurse Yapp: I remember him going there; but I do not know what it was for. Sir Charles Russell: Now I come to the 27th of April, when he went to the Wirral races, at the other side of the river. Did you hear that he had been riding there on a wet day? Nurse Yapp: Yes, I have heard so. Sir Charles Russell: And he dined on the other side of the water with some friends. He did not dine at home, at all events? Nurse Yapp: No, he did not. Sir Charles Russell: What time did he come home? Nurse Yapp: I cannot recollect. Sir Charles Russell: You did speak to your master on one or two occasions when you went to his room? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did you ever see him about this medicine which was said disagreed with him? Nurse Yapp: No. Sir Charles Russell: I wish to call your attention to the fact that, from the 25th April, Mr. Edwin Maybrick was in the house? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: He slept there from the 25th April to the 11th May, when your master died? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Therefore he saw your master every day? Nurse Yapp: I should think so. Mr. Addison: I object to this. She does not profess to know anything about it; she says she should think so. Justice Stephen: She does not definitely affirm he did see him. Sir Charles Russell: At all events, he had the opportunity of seeing him? Nurse Yapp: Oh, yes. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect, on Sunday, the 28th, hearing your mistress’s bell violently rung, but it was not your business to attend to it? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Don’t you know that as soon as possible after that time—as soon as possible after the bell had rung—Dr. Humphreys had come and was in attendance on your master? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You have referred to the drinking of mustard and water—that was on the Sunday? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did you know whether that was made by Humphreys, the cook? Nurse Yapp: I don't know. Sir Charles Russell: I think you heard Mrs. Maybrick say to her husband that he should take it, and that it would make him sick? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: That it would relieve his stomach? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: I think you said that she went down for the mustard, and that she asked you to go and see Mr. Maybrick while she was getting it ready? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did you say that you saw your mistress on Tuesday, the 7th May—is that the right date? —apparently pouring or putting medicine from one bottle into another? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: I wish you to follow this again. Was that on the landing on the first floor? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Opposite the bedroom? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And is that the landing which all the servants—all the persons in the house, in fact—who desire to go up and downstairs must pass? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: For instance, if you wanted to go up to the nursery? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: At that time you did not attribute any importance to the incident, I presume? Nurse Yapp: No. Sir Charles Russell: Now, with regard to this letter, you had heard the name of your mistress couples with the name of Brierley before you got the letter? Nurse Yapp: Never. Sir Charles Russell: Why did you open the letter? Nurse Yapp: Because Mrs. Maybrick wished that it should go by that post. Sir Charles Russell: Why did you open that letter? No reply. Justice Stephen: Did anything happen to the letter? Nurse Yapp: Yes, it fell in the dirt. Sir Charles Russell: Why did you open the letter? Justice Stephen: She has just said so now. Sir Charles Russell: Well, I did not catch it. Anyhow, I want to have it out again. Why did you open that letter? Nurse Yapp: I opened the letter to put it in a clean envelope. Sir Charles Russell: Why didn’t you put it in a clean envelope without opening it? No reply. Sir Charles Russell: Was it a wet day? Nurse Yapp: It was showery. Sir Charles Russell: Are you sure of that? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Will you undertake to say that? I ask you to consider. Was it a wet day? No reply. Sir Charles Russell: Aye or no? No reply. Sir Charles Russell: Was it wet or dry? No reply. Sir Charles Russell: Had the day before been a dry day? Nurse Yapp: It was showery. Sir Charles Russell: Will you swear that on Wednesday it was showery? Nurse Yapp: I cannot say positively. Sir Charles Russell: Was the child in a perambulator? Nurse Yapp: No. Sir Charles Russell: Was the child able to walk? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: What do you say you did with the letter? Nurse Yapp: I gave it to Mr. Edwin Maybrick. Sir Charles Russell: No, no. I mean when you got it from Mrs. Maybrick? Nurse Yapp: I gave it to the child to post. Sir Charles Russell: Did you ever do that before? Nurse Yapp: Always, and Mrs. Maybrick always gave letters to the baby to carry to the post. Sir Charles Russell: I was asking what you did with it? Nurse Yapp: I gave it to the baby. Sir Charles Russell: Always did? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did this incident ever happen, or anything like it, before? Nurse Yapp: No. Sir Charles Russell: Let me see the letter. Have you got the envelope? Where did the child drop it? Nurse Yapp: Right by the post office, in crossing the road. Sir Charles Russell: Which side? Nurse Yapp: Near the post office. Sir Charles Russell: Then you had securely passed the road and were stepping on to the kerbstone? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did any one see it but yourself? Nurse Yapp: I don’t know. Sir Charles Russell: Then you picked it up? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And saw this mark upon it, did you? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Just take it in your hand. Is the direction clear enough? Nurse Yapp: It was very much dirtier at the time. Sir Charles Russell: It hasn’t obscured the direction, which is plain enough? Nurse Yapp: No. Sir Charles Russell: You didn’t rub the mud off. What did you do? Nurse Yapp: I went into the post office and asked for a clean envelope to re-address it. I opened it as I was going into the post office. Sir Charles Russell: Did it never occur to you that you could get a clean envelope, if you were particular about cleanliness, and put it unopened into that? Nurse Yapp: Oh, I never thought of that. Sir Charles Russell: Then, between the picking of it up on the post office side of the pathway and your going into the shop you formed the design of opening it, and did, in fact, open it as you were going in? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: If, as you suggest, this fell in the mud and was wet, there is no running of the ink on the direction? Nurse Yapp: No. Sir Charles Russell: Can you suggest how there can be any damp or wet in connection with it without causing some running of the ink? Nurse Yapp: I cannot. Sir Charles Russell: On your oath, girl, did you not manufacturer that stain as a excuse for opening your mistress’s letter? Nurse Yapp: I did not. Sir Charles Russell: Have you any explanation to offer about the running of the ink? Nurse Yapp: I have not. Sir Charles Russell: I put it to you again for the last time. Did you not open the letter deliberately, because you suspected your mistress? Nurse Yapp: No, I did not. Mr. Addison (cross-examining): Did you suspect your mistress? Nurse Yapp: No. Mr. Addison: When you saw the fly-papers did you suspect her? Nurse Yapp: No. Mr. Addison: Why did you look at them? Nurse Yapp: I thought that Bessie Brierley had made a mistake when she said there were fly-papers in the bedroom. Mr. Addison: Was that your reason? Nurse Yapp: Yes. Mr. Addison: When you did see them, what them? Nurse Yapp: I did not think anything of them. Mr. Addison: When you opened the letter you still thought nothing of it? Nurse Yapp: Yes, when I was what was in the letter. Mr. Addison: What that the first time that you had any suspicion about it? Nurse Yapp: No, sir; I had been told of soup, and bread and mild, and things tasting differently. Mr. Addison: Had you been told this by some of the other servants? Nurse Yapp: Yes, by Cadwallader and the cook Humphreys. Mr. Addison: That was before you opened the letter? Nurse Yapp: Yes.   Witness: Elizabeth Brierley (Housemaid) Elizabeth Brierley: I was housemaid at Mr. Maybrick’s house at the time of his death. I had been there seven weeks. I remember, about the 21st March, Mrs. Maybrick’s going to London and returning the day before the Grand National. Mrs. Maybrick came home on the evening of the Grand National about seven or half-past. I did not know when Mr. Maybrick came home. I heard, however, some loud talking in the bedroom and heard the bell ring. I went for a cab by orders, and afterwards, without any orders, sent it away. I remember seeing some fly-papers in one of the rooms about twelve o’clock one day. They were in the bedroom. This was one day after the Grand National. They were in a small sponge basin on the washstand in my master and mistress's bedroom. I did not see how many fly-papers there were, but I called the attention of Alice Yapp to them. I never mentioned the matter to Mrs. Maybrick again. At that time Mrs. Maybrick was in the house. I found some traces of the fly-papers afterwards in the slop pail next morning. There were no fly-papers in use I the house for killing flies, either before or immediately after I saw them in steep in the room. The flies were not troublesome at that time. On the 27th April my master went to Wirral races. I heard him complain that his feet and legs were dead to the knees. On the following morning he was taken ill, and, acting on Mrs. Maybrick’s instructions, I prepared a hot-water bottle, which I took to his bedroom. I saw him later on in the week, but I did to notice anything the matter with him. On Friday, 3rdMay, he came home from business and was seized with vomiting at that time. My mistress told me to prepare the bedroom at once, as the master was going to bed. I did so, and filled a hot-water bottle, giving it afterwards to Mrs. Maybrick. At that time Mr. Maybrick was in bed, where he remained until the next day. I do not remember taking any food to him on the next day; but in the evening I got from cook Humphreys a glass of mild, which I took up to him. On Sunday I asked how the master was, and I think Mrs. Maybrick replied that he was no better. I do not think she gave me any orders to prepare any mustard and water again. I prepared a small footbath, which I left at the bedroom door. On Monday, about eleven o’clock, I asked Mrs. Maybrick if I should change the bedclothes, and she said that the master’s bed had better not be disturbed. Afterwards the clothes from the bedroom were brought out by Mrs. Maybrick herself. She left them outside the bedroom door. On Tuesday I asked how the master was, and she said she thought he was no better. On Thursday I remember taking a cup of tea into the mistress’s bedroom. It was the front room I took it to. I passed through the chamber. Mr. Maybrick was in bed, and the nurse was rubbing his hands. When I passed through on returning Mr. Michael Maybrick was in the room, and I saw him take something off the washstand. I think that this occurred on the evening of Thursday, the 9th May. I do not remember having seen the bottles, and I therefore could not identify them. Before Mr. Maybrick’s illness it had been my duty to empty the slops; but from the beginning of his illness I suppose Mrs. Maybrick did this, for I only emptied them twice. Generally, before this period, Mr. Maybrick seemed to be a healthy man. Sir Charles Russell: Was it in the morning when you were doing up the rooms that you saw the fly-papers? Elizabeth Brierley: Yes, before dinner time. Sir Charles Russell: And it was before dinner time that you mentioned it to your fellow-servants? Elizabeth Brierley: No, it was later then that—about three or four o’clock. Sir Charles Russell: Is it not a fact that Mrs. Maybrick was in the room upon the occasion when you noticed the fly-papers? Elizabeth Brierley: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You said so in your examination before? Elizabeth Brierley: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: At that time both Mr. and Mrs. Maybrick occupied the same room? Elizabeth Brierley: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: When the inner room was used as a bedroom it was occupied by Mr. Maybrick? Elizabeth Brierley: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Was it also used as a dressing-room? Elizabeth Brierley: No. Sir Charles Russell: Only as a sleeping room? Elizabeth Brierley: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: But we have heard of some things being there. What were they? Elizabeth Brierley: Only Mr. Maybrick’s hats were there. Sir Charles Russell: In reference to this question as to the slops, did you mistress not give you a reason? Elizabeth Brierley: No. Sir Charles Russell: Do you know that they were kept for Dr. Humphreys to see? Elizabeth Brierley: I did not know at the time. Sir Charles Russell: Do you know now? Elizabeth Brierley: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: On 3rd May (Friday) Mr. Maybrick was sick? Elizabeth Brierley: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Do you mean that he was ill, or that he was actually vomiting? Elizabeth Brierley: He was vomiting. Sir Charles Russell: You have not said that before, have you? Elizabeth Brierley: Yes, I think I did. Sir Charles Russell: At the coroner’s inquest you said that he came home from business ill? Elizabeth Brierley: Yes; I meant the same thing. Sir Charles Russell: You did not yourself see him? Elizabeth Brierley: No, because he went into the lavatory. Sir Charles Russell: And on the 27th I think you heard him complain of numbness in his feet and legs? Elizabeth Brierley: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Was that all? Elizabeth Brierley: Yes. Mr. Addison: When you went into the bedroom, did you see your mistress there? Elizabeth Brierley: She was on the landing. Mr. Addison: Was she there when you took the towels off to look at them? Elizabeth Brierley: Yes.   Witness: Mary Cadwallader Mary Cadwallader: I was a waitress in the employ of Mr. Maybrick at the time of his death. I remember being sent by Mrs. Maybrick for Dr. Humphreys on Sunday, 28th April. It would be about 10.30. Dr. Humphreys came. I remember about the time bread and mild being prepared by the cook. I took it from the cook to the dining-room. Mr. Maybrick was not there at the time. I do not know how long it was before he came in. I sounded the gong and went out. I do not know who went in after. At the dinner that day arrowroot was prepared for him by the cook. I took that into the breakfast room. For supper arrowroot was made. I began to make the arrowroot, and Mrs. Maybrick finished it. After this Mrs. Maybrick gave ma a jug to put in to soak. The jug had been used to put the arrowroot in out of the jar. When the jug was given to me I noticed something dark in it. Up to the time that I left off making the arrowroot I had not put anything dark into it. I went for Dr. Humphreys about half-past nine on Sunday night, a second time. Mr. Maybrick said to me that he had had an overdose of medicine from London. This was before I went for Dr. Humphreys. Mr. Maybrick said he felt very dizzy. I remember the professional nurses coming on the Wednesday before he died. Mrs. Maybrick had had entire charge of him from the Friday to this Wednesday. She told me that Dr. Humphreys had said that nothing was to go up to him except through her. Before the nurses came on the Thursday, I assisted Mrs. Maybrick to wash Mr. Maybrick. I saw her give some medicine then, but nothing else. On the Tuesday, 30th April, I remember some food being prepared for him. It was prepared by the cook to be taken to the office. The cook handed it tome, and I took it upstairs to Mrs. Maybrick. There was no person else there at the time. Mrs. Maybrick said she wanted it wrapped up, and I went for paper and string, afterwards going down into the kitchen. Afterwards I came up again into the room, and found that Mrs. Maybrick had wrapped up the parcel. Two or three times food was prepared in this way, and one morning the master forgot it. I remember on one occasion, when I brought in some bread and milk which I got from the cook, that the master left a great portion of it. I had done nothing to sweeten the milk. I remember some fly-papers being brought to the house by the chemist’s boy, but up to the time the master died no fly-papers had been used. I did not notice the flied to be troublesome. Up to the day the master went to the Wirral raced he appeared, so far as I could judge, to enjoy good health. Sir Charles Russell: On the 28th of April you recollect hearing your mistress’s bell ringing violently? Mary Cadwallader: Well—no. Sir Charles Russell: Just recollect, the day after the Wirral races? Mary Cadwallader: Oh, yes. Sir Charles Russell: Was it your business to answer that bell? Mary Cadwallader: Not the bell in the bedroom. Sir Charles Russell: Did you answer the bell? Mary Cadwallader: No, I did not. Sir Charles Russell: After hearing the bell ring violently, were you sent by your mistress anywhere? Mary Cadwallader: She came downstairs. Sir Charles Russell: Before the bell could be answered? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And sent you for a doctor? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: What time was that on the Sunday? Mary Cadwallader: About half-past nine. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect anything happening the same day? Mary Cadwallader: Yes; about half-past nine in the evening master rang the bell. Sir Charles Russell: You went up? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Mast told me to call Mrs. Maybrick. Sir Charles Russell: And you sent her? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: After she came, did she give you any directions? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: When Mr. Maybrick told you to bring Mrs. Maybrick, did you go back with her into the room? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Mr. Maybrick then felt very poorly? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And from that time he was in attendance up to Tuesday, 7th May, when Dr. Carter was also called in? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: In reference to this arrowroot you have been speaking about, did you notice anything dark in it? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did you put anything dark in it? Mary Cadwallader: No. Sir Charles Russell: What was it caused the dark colour? Mary Cadwallader: The cook explained it by saying that some vanilla had been put into it. There was a new bottle of vanilla that I thought had not been opened; but, when I came to look at it, I found that it was. Sir Charles Russell: Did that account for the dark colour? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: As regards the bread and mild, you did not ordinarily sweeten it. You left that tot he person who used it, as he or she thought right and to their taste? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You recollect the statement you have just made as to something that Mr. Maybrick said to you on that Sunday morning as to the cause of his illness. I which you to repeat it again? Mary Cadwallader: He said he had taken an overdose of medicine from London. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect his having said anything more about medicine? Did he refer to the medicine that came by post? Mary Cadwallader: Yes, he did, because I took it in. Sir Charles Russell: Tell us what he did say? Mary Cadwallader: He said he had taken an overdose of London medicine, and it was the same as I had taken in on the Friday. Sir Charles Russell: Then some medicine had come from London by post? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And you yourself had taken it in? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: There is no mistake about this? Mary Cadwallader: No, there is not. Sir Charles Russell: Your master told you this? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: He asked you if the medicine had come on Friday morning, the 26th? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: The next day was Saturday, the 27th, the Wirral races day? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And the conversation took place on Sunday, the 28th? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: What day did the medicine come? Mary Cadwallader: On Friday morning, at half-past eight. Sir Charles Russell: Did you see it? Mary Cadwallader: No, it was in a box. Sir Charles Russell: Do you know whether it was pills or in a bottle? Mary Cadwallader: It was in a bottle. I could tell by the shape of it. Sir Charles Russell: Can you say what kind of box it was? Mary Cadwallader: A small box made of pasteboard. Sir Charles Russell: Did you learn where it had come from? Mary Cadwallader: I believed it came from Dr. Fuller, but I did not hear the name. Sir Charles Russell: You recollect the Monday before Dr. Carter came to the house? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You recollect being in Mr. Maybrick’s room on the Monday? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Was he sitting up in his bed? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Reading the papers and writing letters? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. He sent some telegrams away. Sir Charles Russell: That would be Monday, the 6th? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Do you remember making up any food for Mr. Maybrick to take to the office? Mary Cadwallader: I do not remember. Sir Charles Russell: Do you remember the parcel of fly-papers coming? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: When the parcel arrived where did you put it? Mary Cadwallader: On the table. Sir Charles Russell: Was it rolled up with paper and open at both ends? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did any one go through them? Mary Cadwallader: Mr. Maybrick saw them. Sir Charles Russell: Did he look at them? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. I saw him pick them up and look at them. Sir Charles Russell: I think it was you that took the telegram to Mr. Edwin Maybrick asking him to send the doctor? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: I don’t know whether you also took the telegram from Mrs. Maybrick to the nurse at Hale? Mary Cadwallader: No. Sir Charles Russell: Do you know who took it? Mary Cadwallader: No. Sir Charles Russell: Now, about these fly-papers. Did you and the servants talk about them at all? Mary Cadwallader: Well, they were mentioned one day. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect if any one suggested what they were used for? Mary Cadwallader: Yes; the cook said they were used for cleaning silk. Sir Charles Russell: That was what the cook suggested? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did you at that time think anything of consequence of them? Mary Cadwallader: No. Sir Charles Russell: Let me ask you this—you said your mistress seemed very attentive to your master during his illness? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Until after his death, and it was discovered that there were traces of poison about, did you think there was anything suspicious about what was done or not done? Mary Cadwallader: No, I did not. Sir Charles Russell: Now, I want to take you to another thing in connection with the fly-papers. Do you recollect the domino party or ball to which Mr. Edwin Maybrick escorted Mrs. Maybrick? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect how long before that you saw these fly-papers in the hall? Mary Cadwallader: About a week before that. Sir Charles Russell: Did you see any fly-papers after this trouble arose in the house? Mary Cadwallader: No, I did not see them afterwards. Sir Charles Russell: Have you not said that you and the cook saw some papers downstairs and destroyed them? Mary Cadwallader: Oh, yes; that was afterwards. Sir Charles Russell: It was before his death? Mary Cadwallader: Yes, I think it was the same week that he died. Sir Charles Russell: Did you see the cook destroy them, or did she tell you? Mary Cadwallader: I saw her. Sir Charles Russell: Did you destroy any papers? Mary Cadwallader: Yes, I did, but I don’t know how long they had been there. Sir Charles Russell: Do you know how many? Mary Cadwallader: No. Mr. Addison: When did you say so? Mary Cadwallader: I said so to the solicitor about three weeks since. Mr. Addison: That is since you have been before the coroner and the magistrates? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Mr. Addison: Did you mention it before the coroner or before the magistrates? Mary Cadwallader: No, I did not mention it. I did not think of it. Mr. Addison: Were you asked about fly-papers? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Mr. Addison: At that time what did you recollect about them? Mary Cadwallader: I did not remember that I had burned a lot of them. Mr. Addison: You said at that time you had never seen any fly-papers. Sir Charles Russell: She did not say that. Mr. Addison: Well, we will see what there is on the depositions. Mary Cadwallader: I do not think I was asked if I destroyed any. Mr. Addison: When you were asked about it you did not at that time remember it, but when Mr. Cleaver spoke about it some weeks ago you did remember? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Mr. Addison: What did you remember then and now about the fly-papers? Mary Cadwallader: I remember destroying them three or four days before he died. Mr. Addison: How long before he died? Mary Cadwallader: About three or four days. Mr. Addison: Where did you find some fly-papers? Mary Cadwallader: In the butler’s pantry. Mr. Addison: Had you charge of the pantry? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Mr. Addison: Did you know how they got there? Mary Cadwallader: I think they had been there a good bit. Mr. Addison: Had you ever seen them before? Mary Cadwallader: They were behind some things. Mr. Addison: What sort of things? Mary Cadwallader: Behind a tray. Mr. Addison: Had you ever seen them there before? Mary Cadwallader: I had not noticed them. Mr. Addison: Do I understand that two or three days before he died you found some fly-papers behind a tray? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Mr. Addison: How many? Mary Cadwallader: I did not notice. About five or six. Mr. Addison: What did you do with them? Mary Cadwallader: I took them down to the kitchen and burned them. Mr. Addison: Did you show them to the cook? Mary Cadwallader: The cook was there when I went down. Mr. Addison: You burned them in presence of the cook? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Mr. Addison: Why did you burn them? Mary Cadwallader: I thought it best to burn them. Mr. Addison: You said something about a policeman? Mary Cadwallader: I thought it was best to burn them before a policeman arrived. Mr. Addison: And that was forgotten, was our of your mind, when you were before the coroner and the magistrates? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Mr. Addison: You remembered it when, two or three weeks ago, the solicitor for Mrs. Maybrick came to know what you had to say? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Mr. Addison: That is the way it came about? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Mr. Addison: When was this talk about the fly-papers? Mary Cadwallader: It was a week before he died, when Bessie Brierley spoke of it downstairs. Mr. Addison: Was that the first time that you heard of fly-papers? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Mr. Addison: That was the week before when Bessie Brierley had talked about it? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Mr. Addison: And was that the time that the cook suggested they were used for cleaning silk? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Mr. Addison: Did you say anything upon that? Mary Cadwallader: No. Mr. Addison: Then, this tray of yours, was it one that you used? Mary Cadwallader: It was one that was left there. Mr. Addison: Then some time after you found some fly-papers behind the tray, and burned them in the way you have told us? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Mr. Addison: Did you speak to any one about burning them? Mary Cadwallader: No, I did not mention it except to the cook. Mr. Addison: Was that before you burned them that you mentioned it to the cook? Mary Cadwallader: No, but finding she was there when I burned them, and there was a smell, I told her that perhaps the best thing to do was to destroy them. Mr. Addison: Then Mr. Maybrick was expecting his medicine from London? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Mr. Addison: Do you remember if he told you where it was to come from? Mary Cadwallader: No. I am quite sure of that. Mr. Addison: What is your recollection? Mary Cadwallader: He told me he had been up to London, and was expecting medicine a day or two before it came. Mr. Addison: It ought to have been a day or two before it actually arrived? Mary Cadwallader: Yes. Mr. Addison: Then at last the bottle arrived. Did you look inside to see the chemist’s name? Mary Cadwallader: No. Mr. Addison: Do you remember whether Dr. Fuller’s name was mentioned or not? Mary Cadwallader: No, I don’t.   Witness: Elizabeth Humphreys. Elizabeth Humphreys: I was cook at Mr. Maybrick’s at the time of his death. And have been there about seven months. I remember that day of the Grand National. Mrs. Maybrick went away from home about a week before, and returned before the race. Mr. Maybrick was at home during that week. On the day of the Grand National both were away from home, Mrs. Maybrick going out first and returning first. After they returned, in consequence of what Mary Cadwallader told me, I went to the front of the house. I saw my master and mistress, and heard the master say, "By heavens, Florie, be careful. Once you go through this door you shall not enter the house any more." My work was in the kitchen; and, during the present year, up to the month of May, no fly-papers had been used in the house, and there was no necessity for them at all. I never asked the mistress for them. Mr. Swift: Do you remember Bessie Brierley speaking to you about the fly-papers some days after she had spoken the first time? Elizabeth Humphreys: No. I had no conversation with Bessie Brierley, but with Mary Cadwallader. Mr. Swift: Had you any conversations with one of your fellow-servants? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes, but not for some time afterwards. Mr. Swift: About when was it you had the conversation with Cadwallader? Elizabeth Humphreys: Before the death of Mr. James Maybrick. I entered the service of Mr. Maybrick in October. It was in October I found some fly-papers on the window sill in the kitchen. There would be about half a dozen. They lay there a long time. Mary Cadwallader then arranged to destroy them. I ultimately destroyed them shortly before Mr. Maybrick’s death. They had been in the kitchen all the time. Mary Cadwallader was with me when I destroyed them. I remember Sunday, the 28th April, the day after the Wirral races. On that morning, about nine o’clock, I saw Mrs. Maybrick. She asked me for some mustard and water immediately. The master had taken a dose of medicine, she said, and she wanted it at once. She was in a great hurry, and mixed the water with her finger. I followed with another cup, but the first had been giving to the master when I got up. I met the mistress on the landing at the bedroom door. I gave the water to Mrs. Maybrick, and she took it. I did not see Mr. Maybrick but heard him vomiting. Subsequently I saw Mr. Maybrick and Mr. Edwin Maybrick together in the breakfast room. The mistress was not there. I took the children in on the 28th April, and saw the master, who said he was a little better. Later on in the day I was asked by Mrs. Maybrick to prepare some oxtail soup. I gave it to her, and she took it into the morning room. I do not know what became of it afterwards. I do not remember Dr. Humphreys calling on the following day, but about eleven o’clock Mrs. Maybrick brought in some Du Barry’s food, which she asked me to prepare. She gave me a brown jug, and said that the master was going to take the food down to the office. I gave the jug to the witness Cadwallader, and do not know what became of it. On the following day I made the master’s breakfast. He had bread and milk, which was taken into the breakfast room by Cadwallader. In consequence of something which she said to me when she brought back the remains of the mild, I tasted it, and found it was sweetened as if sugar had been put in it. It was different to what it was when it left, for I put salt in it. I put no sweetening mixture in it. I prepared food for taking down to the office about four times altogether during the week, but on one occasion it was not taken. I never gave the jug to Mr. Maybrick myself. I handed it to Cadwallader. On the night after the Wirral races Mrs. Maybrick brought some meat juice in to me and instructed me to make some beef tea, with the addition of some stock. This I did, but I am not sure who took the beef tea from the kitchen. On the 4th May the chemist’s lad brought some medicine, which I took up to the bedroom. I afterwards told Mrs. Maybrick what I had done, and she asked me why I had taken the medicine up, as she had given instructions that nothing was to be taken into the sick-room unless she saw it herself first. Later on that same day I saw Mrs. Maybrick again. I asked for the master, and she said he was no better. She said something about the medicine he had been taking. She remarked that if he had taken that much more (pointing to her finger) he would have been a dead man. Mr. Swift: What did she do with the medicine? Elizabeth Humphreys: She threw it all down the sink. Mr. Swift: Did you suppose that she meant the London medicine, or did she say the London medicine? Elizabeth Humphreys: I thought she meant the London medicine. She said that "horrid" medicine. On the following morning, when I came downstairs, I saw Mrs. Maybrick. I spoke to her, asking how the master was, and she replied that he was much worse. She said he had been ill all night. At that time, no professional nurses had been called in. I suggested going in to look after the master. She said the master would not recognise me. She said that she could manage, and she asked me to make a cup of tea. Mr. Swift: Did you go into the bedroom? Elizabeth Humphreys: No. Upon the following day I went upstairs to get some order about dinner. Mrs. Maybrick was then standing on the landing near the master’s bedroom. I got the order, and I asked how the master was. Mr. Swift: Did you make any request? Elizabeth Humphreys: I asked to see the master for a moment. Mr. Swift: She did not give permission? Elizabeth Humphreys: No, but I followed in without permission. The master was very poorly. He recognised me the moment I entered the room, and called me to him. I asked him how he was, and he replied that he was very sick and wanted a drink of something. He then requested me to get him some lemonade with a little sugar. He said he wanted a good drink to rinse his mouth out with, and he wanted to feel that he had rinsed it out. He also said—"I want you to make it as you would for any poor man dying of thirst." He then told me how to make the lemonade, viz., to cut up a lemon in slices and put a little sugar in. Mrs. Maybrick, who was in the room, offered him lemon juice, but he said he didn’t want lemon juice in a glass, but lemonade from the kitchen. His wife thereupon replied—"You cannot have it except as a gargle." I then asked the master if he would like anything—any lemonade, lemon jelly, or barley-water, and he replied that he would like something, anything of that sort. Mrs Maybrick did not say anything at that time, but immediately afterwards she said it was no use making anything, as he could not take it except as a gargle. I made some lemonade and took it up to Mr. Maybrick, going to the right side of the bed; but Mrs. Maybrick took the lemonade from me, and put it on the washstand at the left side of the bed. She said to him, "You can’t have it, dear, except as a gargle," and he replied, "Very well"; but he looked very wistfully after the glass as his wife took it away from him, as thought he would like to drink it. I then left the room, and the deceased had none of the lemonade while I was there. I did not see him again until after Nurse Gore had arrived, at which time I and the nurse were in the room together. I asked him if he felt any better, and to this he replied that he did not feel any better at all. Mrs. Maybrick then entered the room and said, "What is it, dear?" I leaving at that point. Mr. Michael Maybrick arrived the same evening. On Thursday evening, the 9th May, I went to my master’s bedroom, and, as I got to the bedroom door I met Mrs. Maybrick coming out. I afterwards retuned to the kitchen, and Mrs. Maybrick followed me. The accused ordered dinner, and after giving the order she began to complain, and used the words, "I am blamed for all this." I asked her in what way; and Mrs. Maybrick replied, "In not getting other nurses and doctors." After saying this, she went into the servants’ hall, and there commenced to cry. She said she was very much put out, and added that her position in the house was not worth anything. Justice Stephen: Mrs. Maybrick said, "This is all through Mr. Michael Maybrick." Mr. Swift: Tell us all she did say? Elizabeth Humphreys That he had always had a spite against her since her marriage. Mrs. Maybrick told me that she had been turned out of the master’s bedroom, and not allowed to give him his medicines. In speaking about Mr. Michael Maybrick, I remember her saying that if he went out of the house she should not allow him to enter it again. She said that, if she could, she would turn us every one out of the house. I asked her if I had done anything to her, and she said "No." I saw her several times after that before Mr. Maybrick died. On the Thursday I asked her how the master was, and she replied that he was no better. She said that inflammation had set in, and I replied that it was very dangerous. I do not remember Mrs. Maybrick getting some ice from the landing. The professional nurse came on the Wednesday. Nurse Gore was the first. From that time I did not cook anything more for the master, nor did I know of anything being cooked except by nurses. Upon the Friday I saw Mrs. Maybrick in the kitchen about nine o’clock at night as far as I remember. She asked me for a sandwich and a glass of milk. She had a sandwich or two in the kitchen; and, as she was leaving, she asked me to get her some soup and a sandwich ready for night. Mr. Swift: Did she say anything else? Elizabeth Humphreys: She thanked me for my kindness to her, and kissed me. I asked her how the master was, and she said he was sinking very fast. She said there was no hope, and seemed very much distressed. Upon the Saturday morning Mrs. Maybrick came to our bedroom door about three o’clock in the morning. She wanted one of us to go and fetch Mrs. Briggs. Mr. Swift: What reason did she give? Elizabeth Humphreys: She said that the master was dying. I believe Cadwallader and Brierley went. The last thing I remember making for Mr. Maybrick was some broth on Saturday night. Mrs. Maybrick requested me to make it. That was the Saturday before he died. I never made anything but the lemonade after that. During the days following that Saturday I suggested several things I thought Mr. Maybrick might like made for him. I made these suggestions to Mrs. Maybrick. Sir Charles Russell: Are you married or single? Elizabeth Humphreys: Single. Sir Charles Russell: Now, in reference to these fly-papers, you saw some of them on the window sill of the kitchen? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Had they been in the house some time—when was it? Elizabeth Humphreys: I went back to the house in October, 1888, and it was directly that I went back that I saw them. Sir Charles Russell: There were also some found behind a tray in the pantry, I believe? Elizabeth Humphreys: I know nothing about them. Sir Charles Russell: I think you are aware that Cadwallader had destroyed some? Elizabeth Humphreys: I knew nothing about it at the time; she came afterwards and told me. Sir Charles Russell: On the 28th April you yourself saw Mr. Maybrick; did he not tell you he had had a very bad turn that morning? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes, he did. Sir Charles Russell: And it was later on that evening that your mistress ordered some oxtail soup? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes, I had made some for dinner that day. Sir Charles Russell: Do you remember when you got the direction to make the soup whether Dr. Humphreys was in the house? Elizabeth Humphreys: I believe he was in the morning room at the time. Sir Charles Russell: Do you know whether it was he who suggested the soup? Elizabeth Humphreys: I do not remember. Sir Charles Russell: Now, as regards the food on the 29th April, you said you got a tin of the food from Mrs. Maybrick? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes, it was Du Barry’s food. Sir Charles Russell: Was it a fresh tin, and unopened? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes, it was a fresh and unopened tin which had been sent for. Sir Charles Russell: We have heard that your master did not take much of that; it was brought down to the kitchen uneaten? Elizabeth Humphreys: A good deal of it was. Sir Charles Russell: That was on the Tuesday, I think? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Had he eaten the bread and milk, or only a little of it? Elizabeth Humphreys: Only just tasted it. Sir Charles Russell: Not eaten much of it? Elizabeth Humphreys: No. Sir Charles Russell: And when you came back you found it sweetened? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did you taste it? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes. I put my finger in and found it had been sweetened. Sir Charles Russell: And he inquired whether you had sweetened it? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: As regards his habits of taking sugar or not, Mary Cadwallader would know more about that than you? Elizabeth Humphreys: No; he used to give me his instructions. Sir Charles Russell: Did it seem to you there was anything suspicious in the food having been sweetened? Elizabeth Humphreys: No; not at the time. Sir Charles Russell: And you found it had been sweetened; there was no mistake about it at all? Elizabeth Humphreys: No; I found it had been sweetened. Sir Charles Russell: Sweetened with sugar, I suppose? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes. Justice Stephen: Did you know who sweetened it? Elizabeth Humphreys: No. Sir Charles Russell: You have spoken about the meat juice essence being brought for the purpose of making strong stock? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: I suppose you tasted it before you sent it up? Elizabeth Humphreys: I did not. Sir Charles Russell: Now, in reference to the intervening days up to the 8th, I wish to ask you do you recollect on Monday, the 6th, going into Mr. Maybrick’s room? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes. I asked if he wanted anything. Sir Charles Russell: What was the answer? Elizabeth Humphreys: "No, thank you; Mrs. Maybrick will attend to all my wants." Sir Charles Russell: You went, in fact, to ask whether you could do anything for him? Elizabeth Humphreys: I went in with some papers and telegrams. Sir Charles Russell: And on the 6th he was sitting up in his bed reading the papers and letters, and sending some telegrams? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And when you asked if he wanted anything, he said that Mrs. Maybrick would attend to his wants when she returned? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Where was she at that time? Elizabeth Humphreys: I don’t think she was in the house. Sir Charles Russell: Who brought his letters and telegrams? Elizabeth Humphreys: Lowery. Sir Charles Russell: On the 5th, did you see him? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes, I did. Sir Charles Russell: And on Monday, the 6th, did you see him? Elizabeth Humphreys: No. Sir Charles Russell: You have just told us that it was on that day you saw him. Let me remind you again, wasn’t it on Monday, the 6th, that the boy came up from the office with letters and telegrams? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes, it was. Sir Charles Russell: You saw him on the 7th? Elizabeth Humphreys: No, I did not. Sir Charles Russell: Dr. Carter came on Tuesday, that day? Elizabeth Humphreys: I heard of that. Sir Charles Russell: Do you recollect on the Wednesday morning saying to your mistress she ought to lie down, she looked so worn and tired? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And it was a fact that she did look worn and tired? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: Did you learn that she had been up all night? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: I will put to you the question. Until after you heard of the result of the examination showing that there was arsenic, did you regard our mistress’s conduct at any part of the story as in any way suspicious? Elizabeth Humphreys: No, I did not. Sir Charles Russell: Did it seem to you that she was attending to her husband? Elizabeth Humphreys: She seemed very kind to him, and spent all her time with him. Sir Charles Russell: You have already said so, have you not? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes, I did. Sir Charles Russell: And when she told you she had been blamed you took her part—you sided with her? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes, I did, because I thought she was doing her best under the circumstances. Sir Charles Russell: You sympathised with her, if fact? Elizabeth Humphreys: I did, certainly. Sir Charles Russell: And she was in great distress? Elizabeth Humphreys: She was very much grieved over it, and was very sorry. Sir Charles Russell: Crying in a manner painful to witness? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes she was indeed. Sir Charles Russell: At the time were you aware that what particularly distressed her was that she was no longer recognised as mistress of her house? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes, and I told her I would rather be in my own shoes than hers. Sir Charles Russell: You know she was set aside by his brothers and these nurses? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes, she was set aside. Sir Charles Russell: I am not criticising the action of the brothers for a moment, but I ask the question for present purposes. I notice in giving directions for the lemonade he told you, you say, to cut the lemon up, and put a little sugar with it? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes; I asked him the question about it. Sir Charles Russell: With reference to that, do you know, in point of fact, that the doctor had ordered he was to have as little as possible to drink, and to use the lemon only as a gargle? Elizabeth Humphreys: I did not know it at the time. Sir Charles Russell: Did not Mrs. Maybrick say so? Elizabeth Humphreys: She did afterwards when I took up the lemonade. I made it notwithstanding what she said. Sir Charles Russell: Is this what she said, "The doctor says he is not to have anything like that except as a gargle"? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes, she did say so to me at the time. Sir Charles Russell: I don’t know whether you were present at the inquest when Dr. Humphreys was examined? Elizabeth Humphreys: I was. Sir Charles Russell: Ands he said something very much to that effect? Elizabeth Humphreys: He did. Sir Charles Russell: Upon the occasion Mr. Maybrick observed there were strange things knocking about him, I don’t know whether you could pledge yourself to the exact form of words he used? Elizabeth Humphreys: Those were the words he used. Sir Charles Russell: Was it not that after Nurse Gore had come? Elizabeth Humphreys: It was. Sir Charles Russell: And didn’t you say, when you were examined with reference to that observation, that he made the statement at the time there was a stranger in the room? Elizabeth Humphreys: I did. I thought he was referring to the nurse. Sir Charles Russell: Whom he did not know before? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: And did you also add that he was a little delirious? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes, he was certainly. Justice Stephen: The nurse will be called, I presume? Sir Charles Russell: Yes, my lord. Sir Charles Russell: On the 9th May you mentioned Mrs. Maybrick coming down to the kitchen when you were at your ordinary dinner? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: At that time the two brothers of the master were in the house, and she was ordering dinner? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: You spoke to her sympathetically in her trouble, I believe? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes. Sir Charles Russell: On Saturday, in the early part of the day, she came down to the kitchen and put her arms around your neck and kissed you? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes; she was always very good to me. Sir Charles Russell: Have you known your master sometimes to use sugar in his bread and milk? Elizabeth Humphreys: Yes.   Witness: Dr. Richard Humphreys. Dr. Humphreys: I am a surgeon and general practitioner, residing in Garston Old Road, Garston. In the early months of 1887 I was attending the children of Mrs. Maybrick for whooping-cough. That was not the first time I had been in the house. I had attended Mrs. Maybrick. I had never, however, attended Mr. Maybrick but once, when he had a slight injury to the nose, and I washed it for him. When I was attending the children in the early part of March, Mr. Maybrick never complained to me. I did not ask Mr. Maybrick purposely about his health. I just casually said, how are you? but I asked Mrs. Maybrick about her husband’s health when I was attending the children. I do not remember the exact words spoken, but Mrs. Maybrick made a specific complaint about her husband taking something. That conversation took place some time in March this year. She said he was taking some white powder, which she thought was strychnine, and she asked what was likely to be the result. I said that if he took a large enough dose he would die. That would be before the 21st March; I cannot bring the date nearer than this. I said to Mrs. Maybrick, not meaningly, however, "Well, if he should ever die suddenly call me, and I can say you have had some conversation with me about it." I was first called in to see Mr. Maybrick on Sunday, 28th April, about eleven o’clock. Mr. M’Connell: Where did you see Mr. Maybrick? Dr. Humphreys: In bed. Mr. M’Connell: Was Mrs. Maybrick present when you saw him? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: What did Mr. Maybrick say to you? Dr. Humphreys: He said to me that he was not well. Mr. M’Connell: Did he complain specially that morning of some peculiar condition? Dr. Humphreys: Yes, about his chest and his heart. He was afraid of being paralysed. Mr. M’Connell: Did he say so to you? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: Did you ask him how long he had been suffering from these symptoms? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: And what was his reply? Dr. Humphreys: He said they came on that morning. Mr. M’Connell: Did he assign any cause? Dr. Humphreys: Yes, he said it was the result of a strong cup of tea. Mr. M’Connell: Did he say whether he had experienced these symptoms before? Dr. Humphreys: Yes, he said that tea had upon other occasions produced similar inconvenience. Witness attributed the symptoms to distress and palpitation of the heart. Justice Stephen: Would a cup of strong tea have produced all these symptoms? Dr. Humphreys: Not usually, but I have known it to have done so. Dr. Humphreys: Deceased complained as to the state of his tongue, saying that it had been furred for a long time, and that he could not get it clean. He told me that he was not well the previous day. He said he had been at Wirral races, and before starting, in going downstairs, he felt very funny and his legs were very stiff, and during the whole day he was at the races he felt in a peculiar state—in a dazed condition. After coming from the races he went to dine with a friend, and whilst there his hands were so unsteady and twitching that he upset some wine, and he was greatly distressed lest his friends would think he was drunk. Mr. M’Connell: Did you prescribe anything for him? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. I gave him some dilute prussic acid, and advised him to drink nothing but soda water and mild that day. Mr. M’Connell: If you had known that he had been sick on the previous day would you have attributed it to the cup of tea taken that morning? Dr. Humphreys: Probably not. Dr. Humphreys: I saw him next on the evening of the same day, and witness Cadwallader met me at the house. Deceased was then in quite a different condition from that presented a few hours before. All that he had complained of in the morning had disappeared, and he was then suffering from stiffness of the legs. He showed me Dr. Fuller’s prescription in the morning, after which I directed him to discontinue it, and gave him another prescription to replace it. Deceased know he was taking nux vomica in the prescription which Dr. Fuller had given to him, and he had an idea that the stiffness in the limbs was due to that. He was a man who prided himself on his knowledge of medicine. Mr. M’Connell: You say that after having seen him three times only? Dr. Humphreys: Oh, no! He told me so himself. He said; Humphreys, I think I know a great deal of medicine; I have read a good deal of medicine." And, knowing he was taking nux vomica, he thought the stiffness of the previous morning was due to that. Consequently, I advised him not to take any more. He said his liver was wrong, and I made an examination and did not contradict him. The deceased also complained of other things already referred to, and I remained with him for about an hour, and advised him to stay in bed the following morning. Mr. M’Connell: Did he say anything about his friends saying he was hypocondriacal? Dr. Humphreys: Yes; but he said, "I am not. I know how I feel." Mr. M’Connell: Anything said about mustard and water being used? Dr. Humphreys: I do recollect something about mustard and water, but when I don’t know. I called again on the deceased in the evening and found him in bed, having been sent for as Mr. Maybrick was suffering from stiffness in the limbs—the two lower limbs. I prescribed for that bromide of potassium and tincture of henbane. I promised to call again the following morning, Monday, 29th April, and called shortly after ten o’clock. I found him in bed, where he had remained at my request. He did not complain of anything, and all the symptoms had disappeared except the furred tongue. I made an examination of him, and arrived at the conclusion that he was a chronic dyspeptic, and prescribed a dietary for him in writing, and gave it to him himself. I believe I saw Mrs. Maybrick every day I was at the house. The dietary consisted of coffee, toast, and some bacon for breakfast, some Revalenta food and tea for luncheon, and for dinner he was to take alternate meals of fish and bacon. I prescribed for him Seymour’s preparation of papaine and iridin. The papaine was a vegetable digestive, and the iridin a slight laxative to act on the liver. The quantity to be taken was one teaspoonful three times a day. On leaving I promised to call again on the evening of Wednesday, the 1st. This I did, and found Mr. Maybrick much better. I advised him to continue the same treatment. Mr. Maybrick told me I need not call again, as he would call on me. On Friday, however I received a message to go and see Mr. Maybrick. I would be about ten o’clock on the 3rd May. I found Mr. Maybrick in the morning-room on the ground floor. He said he had not been so well since the day before, and he added that he did not think my medicine agreed with him. Mrs. Maybrick was present, and said, "You always say the same thing about anybody‘s medicine after you taken it two or three days.’ I said to Mr. Maybrick, "I really cannot see anything the matter with you. Your tongue is certainly not so clean as it ought to be, but otherwise I cannot see any difference in you. My advice is to go on the same for two or three weeks; the medicine cannot disagree with you, as it tends more to assist your digestion than anything else." Mr. Maybrick then asked me whether he ought to get a Turkish bath, and the reply was in the affirmative. Later on in the day I saws Mr. Maybrick, at about four o’clock, but he only said, "Good afternoon." About midnight that night I was called up to see Mr. Maybrick. He was then in bed, and he was in great pain. The pain was in the two thighs, running from the hips down to the knee. Mr. M’Connell: Who was present when you saw him in bed? Dr. Humphreys: Mrs. Maybrick. Mr. M’Connell: Had anything been done to alleviate the pain? Dr. Humphreys: Yes, they had rubbed his legs with turpentine. Mr. M’Connell: Where had the rubbing been applied? Dr. Humphreys: To the inner aspect of the thighs. Mr. M’Connell: Was there any rubbing going on in your presence? Did you rub or apply your hand to the part? Dr. Humphreys: I am sure I did. Mr. M’Connell: What sort of pain was it? Dr. Humphreys: He complained of gnawing pain. Mr. M’Connell: Not pain from pressure? Dr. Humphreys: No. It extended from the hips down to the joints, and was more particularly located in the back aspect of the joint. Mr. M’Connell: That is the seat of the great sciatic nerve? Dr. Humphreys: It is. Mr. M’Connell: Do you know that he had taken the Turkish bath spoken of in the morning? Did you connect the symptoms in any way with the bath? Dr. Humphreys: I did. Mr. M’Connell: In what way? Dr. Humphreys: I thought it might have been caused by an excessive towelling and rubbing. Mr. Maybrick told me that when he arrived home that day he was sick. Justice Stephen: That was after the Turkish bath? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Dr. Humphreys: Deceased had been sick twice after arriving home, and he said he thought it was due to some inferior sherry having been put into Du Barry’s Revalenta food. I did not inquire whether it was put in or not. As the pain continued, I gave him a morphine suppository. Justice Stephen: What is that? Dr. Humphreys: It is in the form of small capsules of gelatine which is mixed up with morphia, and introduced into the lower bowels instead of swallowing. Dr. Humphreys: There was a quarter of a grain in one of them, which had been prescribed for Mrs. Maybrick at one time or another. On Saturday, the 4th May, I saw Mr. Maybrick early, and found that the pain had passed away, but there were other symptoms, and he was sick and vomiting. He could retain nothing on his stomach, and that was a common result of the administration of morphia. I advised deceased to take nothing at all, but to abate his thirst by washing out with water, or by sucking ice or a damp cloth, and to take nothing else. I prescribed also some ipecacuanha wine for allaying the vomiting. It was a prescription either homœopathic allopathic, according to how it was regarded. I saws him again on the Saturday, but I do not recollect the visit. I saw him the following morning—Sunday—when he was still vomiting, or hawking more than vomiting, and complained of his mouth being very dirty, and his throat was troubling him. His throat showed a slight redness, but his tongue was very dirty and furred. I changed his medicine, because deceased had not made the improvement I had expected. I prescribed again prussic acid from the bottle which he had not finished the previous week. I told deceased also to take Valentine’s beef juice, and wash his mouth with Condy’s fluid. Mrs. Maybrick was present at the house every day. I saw her on Monday, and asked her if—as her husband was worse than ever he had been before—would she not like to have another medical man? She replied, "No, Dr. Humphreys; as he has seen so many before, and they have done him so little good, I don’t think it is necessary." At that time I was not exactly bothered by the symptoms, but deceased had not made the progress I had anticipated. Mr. M’Connell: You considered he was getting worse? Dr. Humphreys: No, I can’t say that. On the whole, he was rather better. Mr. M’Connell: But you have just told us he was worse than ever he had been? Dr. Humphreys: His illness was worse than any illness he had ever had. I again saw deceased on the Sunday, but did not notice anything particular about him. I saw him on Monday, the 6th May, at 8.30 in the morning, and his state was then something similar, but he still complained of his tongue very much. He was, however, better able to retain a little food. Some o the Valentine’s extract of meat had been taken, but it did not agree with the deceased, and it made him vomit. I do not remember him vomiting in my presence, but he complained of it. I told the deceased to stop the Valentine’s beef juice, and said I was not surprised at it making Mr. Maybrick sick, as it made many people sick. I also stopped the medicine, and gave deceased some arsenic—it was Fowler’s solution. I could not say whether that was Sunday or Monday, but it was not Tuesday. Fowler’s solution is a mixture of white arsenic, carbonate of potash, and lavender water. Mr. M’Connell: What per cent. of arsenic? Dr. Humphreys: One per cent. I gave the deceased four drops in about five tablespoonfuls of water. He was to have a few drops of that in less than half a teaspoonful every hour. I made the medicine myself while I was there. It was put into a medicine glass, which contained about sixth or eighty doses. In the whole of the doses there was about 1-25th of a grain. I showed him how to take it, and gave it to him myself. He took three doses altogether. Justice Stephen: How much arsenic would there be in the three doses? Dr. Humphreys: About 1-250th of a grain. Dr. Humphreys: I saw him in the evening, and ordered him some Brand’s beef tea, some chicken broth, Neave’s food, and some mild and water. On the Monday night I recommended the application of a blister to the stomach, thinking it would put an end altogether to the vomiting. I had seen two samples of the vomit. One was greenish, bilious-looking, and the other was yellowish. On Tuesday I saw Mr. Maybrick in the morning, and he appeared better. He said, "Humphreys, I am quite a different man altogether to-day, after you put on that blister last night." He was constantly complaining of the offensive feeling of his mouth. I advised him to wash his mouth with sanitas to clear it. He was able to retain a tablespoonful of food every hour. In the afternoon of the same day I was there with Dr. Carter. I threw the remainder of the medicine containing the Fowler’s solution away on the Monday morning. I threw it into the basin on the washhand stand—the slop basin. The object of administering the solution was to allay his condition and improve him. Mr. Edwin Maybrick made the appointment for me to meet Dr. Carter. Mrs. Maybrick told me that she had not sent for him, but that Mr. Edwin Maybrick had. I saw Mr. James Maybrick with Dr. Carter in the afternoon, at half-past five. Mr. Maybrick seemed to be much the same as in the morning, and was certainly no worse. He complained to Dr. Carter, in my presence, about his throat. I think he was able to retain his food that day. I had a consultation with Dr. Carter, and we resolved to administer certain medicines. He was prescribed tincture of jaborandi and antipyrine. The antipyrine was to allay his restlessness and to allay the pain of the throat. The jaborandi was given to increase the saliva and to relieve the throat. We also gave him a wash for the mouth of chlorine water. We held the opinion that he was going on very favourably, and would be well in a few days. I formed the opinion that Mr. Maybrick was suffering from congestion of the stomach. I could not remember telling this to Mrs. Maybrick that day, but I did tell Mr. Maybrick. I formed a hopeful prognosis, and thought Mr. Maybrick would soon recover. My next visit was on Wednesday, when I found him better. I made no change in his treatment, there being no sickness. Mr. M’Connell: No more symptoms than there were on the afternoon of the 7th? Dr. Humphreys: No, but he had had a restless night. Mr. M’Connell: And his condition was still as hopeful as it had been the night before? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: Did you say to Mr. Maybrick, or use any words to the effect that all depended on how long he could hold out? Dr. Humphreys: No. Mr. M’Connell: Did you say that he was sick unto death, or any words to that effect? Dr. Humphreys: No. Mr. M’Connell: Had he been in any was delirious since the Sunday, or did you say so? Dr. Humphreys: No. Mr. M’Connell: Did you see him again on Wednesday, the 8th May? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: Did you send any telegram about a nurse? Dr. Humphreys: Yes, one about nine o’clock in the morning. Mrs. Maybrick asked me on the morning of the Wednesday prior to the death to telegraph to Mrs. Howell, her nurse, who had been with her on her confinements, to come to attend on her husband, as she was getting tired herself. I had no other conversation beyond that. I went to the telegraph office and sent a message to the nurse at Halewood, signing no name, but saying Mrs. Maybrick would like to have a nurse. About seven o’clock I went to the hose and found Nurse Gore there. I have not been informed up to the present time why Mrs. Howell was not called. At that time the patient was not worse. I could not state whether my attention was called to the state of Mrs. Maybrick’s bowels. I did not make any change in the medicine or prescribe anything that afternoon. About 10.30 Mr. Michael Maybrick came to my house and asked about his brother’s health and prospects. The interview was lengthy, but I did not go to the house with the brother. I visited the patient again on the following morning, and found that there had been considerable straining, the bowels being loose. That was what was termed "tenesmus." He complained of pains in the rectum before I introduced the suppository. It had to be made, and was afterwards introduced. Mr. Maybrick was complaining of great pain. Dr. Carter was present that afternoon. Mr. M’Connell: Did you consider your patient’s condition then as favourable as before? Dr. Humphreys: Not so favourable. Mr. M’Connell: What were the unfavourable symptoms? Dr. Humphreys: They were diarrhœa and straining. I saw the fæces that afternoon. Mr. M’Connell: Did they present any characteristic that led you to make more than a casual observation? Dr. Humphreys: They themselves did not; but I had a conversation with Mr. Michael Maybrick which lead me to believe that something more might be seen if a further examination were made. Mr. M’Connell: Was any further examination made? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: You made a slight examination? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: Dr. Carter was aware of what you were doing? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: What examination did you make? Dr. Humphreys: I boiled them in copper with a little hydrochloric acid. Mr. M’Connell: What were you testing for then? Dr. Humphreys: I was testing for some metal, probably antimony, arsenic, or mercury. Mr. M’Connell: Some metallic irritant? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: How much did you subject to the test? Dr. Humphreys: About a tablespoonful. Mr. M’Connell: With what result? Dr. Humphreys: Nothing conclusive. I got no deposit on the copper. Mr. M’Connell: Had our patient had bismuth in his medication before? Dr. Humphreys: He had. Mr. M’Connell: Was there any deposit of bismuth on the copper? Dr. Humphreys: There was no deposit of any metal. Mr. M’Connell: The result was negative? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: Did you examine the urine at all? Dr. Humphreys: I did the same afternoon, and subjected it to a similar test, but the result was negative. There was no mineral deposit found in the urine. On Thursday evening Mr. Maybrick was in a state of restlessness, complaining of his tongue and his throat and his bowels, but his strength was maintained pretty well, and he could take nutriment to swallow. I did not apprehend any serious results on the Thursday. I felt his pulse, but did not think that there was anything characteristic about it, though it was certainly quicker than at the beginning of the week. I made some temperature tests on the Saturday and Sunday previous, nearly a week before his death. The first day he as slightly feverish, the temperature being 99.4. After that day it was normal, the average normal temperature being taken as 98.4. I did not try the thermometer during the Friday. On Thursday [Friday?] afternoon deceased asked for Dr. Carter, and I said I would tell Dr. Carter, which I did, and the doctor came out the same afternoon. On Friday morning I found the deceased weaker, pulse more rapid, and bowels not moved so frequently as during the previous day. There was hardly any sickness, but I thought deceased was rather worse, especially as he himself seemed much depressed about his condition. In the afternoon the patient’s pulse was still more rapid, and one of his hands was becoming white. Generally he was weaker, and decidedly worse. The tongue was simply filthy, and Mr. Maybrick was very restless, having had no sleep. I ordered some sulphonal for his restlessness, the dose being thirty grains, in the form of a powder; nitro-glycerine for his hand; and he was to continue cocaine, ordered the previous day, for his throat, and also some phosphoric acid for his mouth. On Friday afternoon I considered deceased’s condition to be serious, and the doctors had reason to suppose then that the suggestion made to them the day before might have some grounds. Mr. M’Connell: Was Dr. Carter given a bottle to examine? Dr. Humphreys: Yes, on Friday. I visited my patient again about 10.30 on Friday night. Justice Stephen: What time was your consultation? Dr. Humphreys: In the afternoon about half-past four. Mr. M’Connell: What was this bottle? Dr. Humphreys: The bottle containing the meat juice. Mr. M’Connell: When you visited your patient again at about 10.30, how did you find him? Dr. Humphreys: Very ill; his pulse laws very bad, almost uncountable. He was getting weaker. I told Mr. Michael Maybrick his state so that a solicitor might be seen as to his affairs. At that time I apprehended danger. Mr. M’Connell: Had you any difficulty in administering nourishment? Dr. Humphreys: On that day, yes. Mr. M’Connell: What had you been administering? Dr. Humphreys: Nutritive suppository. Mr. M’Connell: Did you do anything on the 10th? Dr. Humphreys: I don’t remember. Mr. M’Connell: On Saturday, the 11th, what time did you see him in the morning? Dr. Humphreys: About 8.30. Mr. M’Connell: How was he then? Dr. Humphreys: He was then dying. Mr. M’Connell: Did you see Dr. Carter on that day? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: Did you have a consultation as to his state? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: What time was that? Dr. Humphreys: Between twelve and one o’clock. Mr. M’Connell: What collusion did you arrive at as a possibility of doing anything? Dr. Humphreys: There was no possibility of going anything. Mr. M’Connell: At that time did you consider the case hopeless? Dr. Humphreys: Certainly. Mr. M’Connell: Was the man dying? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: You determined as there was nothing more to be done to take no steps? Dr. Humphreys: I think it would have been useless. Mr. M’Connell: And I suppose from that time he gradually sank? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: Were you present at his death? Dr. Humphreys: I was in the house. Mr. M’Connell: It took place about 8.30 on Saturday, the 11th? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: Except the examination you told s about, you made no examination of the excreta afterwards? Dr. Humphreys: No. Mr. M’Connell: Did you at any time tell Mrs. Maybrick that if he had taken so much of that horrid medicine he would be a dead man? Dr. Humphreys: No. Mr. M’Connell: Did you direct that nothing nutritious or medicinal should be given to the patient except by Mrs. Maybrick? Dr. Humphreys: No. Mr. M’Connell: On the night of the 11th, about 12.30, did dr. Carter make any communication to you of what he found in the bottle of meat juice? Dr. Humphreys: No, it was 12.30 in the afternoon. Mr. M’Connell: Did you make a post-mortem examination on Monday, the 13th? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: Who were present? Dr. Humphreys: There were present Dr. Carter, Dr. Barron, and myself, and Superintendent Bryning. Dr. Carter took the written statement, and we all assisted. The examination was made in the room he died. Rigor mortis was present and well developed. I have made notes of the post-mortem. Justice Stephen: It has been the practice, first introduced by Lord Campbell, it being allowed in the Scottish Courts, that notes should be read, although they cannot be called the strictest evidence. You can now do as you please.   Dr. Humphreys (with notes before him): The frame and condition of the man were well developed, his countenance being classical. The pupils of the eye were mediumly and equally dilated. There was a discharge from the lower bowel, and when turned over, a slight discharge of fluid from the mouth. The discharges were chemically tested. [The witness then described the post-mortem appearances resulting upon examination, and said that when they opened the chest the first rib on each side was found to be slightly ossifies.] The lung was found in the left chest to be adherent; it was fixed by an old adhesion, and that meant the evidence of pleurisy. The right lung was free from adhesion, but it contained some fluid. The lung was taken out, and was found to be normal. When the sac of the heart was cut into, fluid was found; and the heart itself was found to be covered with fat. Upon taking the tongue and the larynx out, and the œsphagus and the gullet, we found that the tongue was black, and the gullet at the top of the throat was slightly red. Below that for some distance the appearances were quite natural; but lower down again before getting to the stomach, on the lower part of the mucous membrane, there was a gelatinous appearance, which had the appearance of frogs’ spawn, of a yellowish colour, with black patches. In the larynx, at the posterior part of the epiglottis, we found that there was a little ulcer, about the size of a pin head. It was red and very shallow, and that also the free margin of the epiglottis was eroded or rotten. Upon the posterior aspect of the cartilage, which goes to form the voice box, we found two little red patches. The stomach was tied at each end and taken out, and we found that it contained some fluid—some five or six ounces of a brownish fluid. When the stomach was opened and the fluid poured out we found each end of the stomach was red, and here and there were small ecchymoses of blood spots effused under the lining of the stomach. Getting out of the stomach into the duodenum we found there about three inches of red inflammation, and this appearance continued down for about three feet in the intestines. About eighteen feet lower down in the intestines we found another area of red inflammation, and it corresponded to the blue patch I referred to first, with the vessels running over it. The very extremity of the bowels—the rectum—was also slightly red. The liver seemed natural, and the kidneys were natural. The spleen weighed five or six ounces, and was of a kind of mahogany colour. The brain was natural. Some parts of the viscera were put into jars, but I have not copies of the numbers, although I know some of them. I placed the stomach with its contents into a jar, the whole of the intestines and parts of the liver, and I think the spleen. Justice Stephen: Were they all put into jars? Dr. Humphreys: Yes, I closed the jars, and after sealing them gave them to Mr. Baxendale. Mr. M’Connell: From what you saw during his life and from the post-mortem examination, what do you say was the cause of death? Dr. Humphreys: Arsenic. Arsenical poisoning. Mr. M’Connell: Did you have anything to do with the sealing up of certain fluids and other matters that came from the drains? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: Were you present when the matters contained in these four jars were taken? Dr. Humphreys: I was. Just now you asked me what I thought was the cause of death. I said arsenical poisoning. I said that knowing as I do that an examination had been made of the contents of the stomach; but, asking me what conclusion I came to after having made the post-mortem, recollection the symptoms that he died of, I could only say that it was due to some irritant poison, must probably arsenic, but I should not like to swear that it was. I was present at the taking of the list of the articles with the jars numbered 1, 2, 3, and 4. I was present afterwards when the body was exhumed. Mr. M’Connell: Did you see certain further parts removed? Dr. Humphreys: Yes. Mr. M’Connell: Were they placed, like the others, in bottles? Dr. Humphreys: No. In one large jar, which was given to Mr. Baxendale. Sir Russell (cross-examining): When you gave the answer in the first instance you were taking into account not merely the symptoms before death, but the statements of the results indicated to you by others? Dr. Humphreys: I was when he asked me the question. Sir Russell: Excluding these results, were you when examined before, and are you now, able to say more than that the symptoms during life, and the post-mortem appearances after death, are consistent with death from some irritant poison? Justice Stephen: The word "consistent" is so very misleading. Do you mean to say any two things which exist together must always be consistent? There is a great difference between one thing indicating another with a less degree of strength, and one thing consistent with another. When you say that there are symptoms consistent with death in consequence of some irritant poison, do you mean to say that there are symptoms consistent in the strict sense of the word, or that they indicate or point to death by irritant poison? Sir Russell: I mean to imply that they point to death by irritant poison. Sir Russell: Did you, in fact, use these words, when first asked, "Having regard to the post-mortem appearance, the symptoms before death, and the symptoms described by the witnesses, what is your opinion"? Was your answer this, and this only, "They were consistent with arsenical poisoning"? Dr. Humphreys: It was. Sir Russell: And that is what you mean to convey? Dr. Humphreys: They are consistent, taking the symptoms collectively. Sir Russell: I must ask you not to use the work "consistent," but I will understand by it "indicate," "point out." Sir Russell: Did you not go on to explain that, when you used the word irritant poison, you meant anything, as, for instance, impure food, would cause these symptoms? Dr. Humphreys: I mean (taking it apart from the analysis and the corrected statement) that I did not know what the post-mortem appearance of an irritant would have been; but I say that an irritant food, causing certain symptoms during life, like those produced by an active poison, would probably produce a similar appearance after death. Sir Russell: You have never assisted at a post-mortem examination of any person supposed to have died from arsenical poison? Dr. Humphreys: No. Sir Russell: I think I might also ask you whether you have ever assisted at a post-mortem where it was alleged that death had been due to irritant poisoning? Dr. Humphreys: No. Sir Russell: Up to the time that the communication was made to you which, to use your own language, suggested that there might be some foundation of supposing foul play; did it in any way occur to you that there were symptoms present during life of arsenical poisoning? When was it that the idea was first suggested to you? Dr. Humphreys: I think on Thursday, or on the Wednesday night, when Mr. Michael Maybrick came to me. Sir Russell: From a communication made to you by Mr. Michael Maybrick? Dr. Humphreys: Yes, that there was something unsatisfactory.   The court adjourned.
The Trial of Florence Maybrick 5th August, 1889 Dr. Rawdon Macnamara Examined by Sir Charles Russell: I am a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons of Ireland. I have been its President, and am its representative on the General Medical Council of the Kingdom. I am also a Doctor of Medicine of the University of London, and the author of a standard work on the action of medicine, which has passed through many editions. I am Professor of Materia Medica at the Royal College. I have been for many years senior surgeon at the Lock Hospital, Dublin, and I am also surgeon at the Meath Hospital. Sir Charles Russell: Have you, in the course of your experience, had to administer arsenic in a large number of cases? Dr. Macnamara: Yes, in a very large number of cases. Sir Russell: And for the purposes of administration it has been necessary to saturate the patient? Dr. Macnamara: It has been on several occasions. Sir Russell: And has that not, owing to accident or the idiosyncrasies of the patient, been exceeded? Dr. Macnamara: Yes, either by accident, or the peculiarities of the patient, or the necessities of the case. Sir Russell: That point has been reached, and what has been your observation of the effects of arsenic? Dr. Macnamara: The most strong symptoms in the case of saturation is the redness of the eyelid, where the lashes come out upon the eye. Sir Russell: If it has been beyond that, are there marked peculiarities in the pit of the stomach? Dr. Macnamara: Yes, about the size of a shilling, and that shilling burning hot, and thus spreading gradually down until the arsenic is eliminated. Sir Russell: Have you observed any marked symptom in the matter of vomiting and purging? Dr. Macnamara: In cases of arsenic poisoning there is a group of symptoms, but in any one case some one or other of these may be absent. Sir Russell: You spoke of the purging and vomiting; describe what you mean by that in the case of these symptoms? Dr. Macnamara: Vomiting is at first copious, violent, and persistent; the purging is of a severe character at first, but, of course, it passes into ineffectual effort eventually. Sir Russell: You have heard the description of the case of Dr. Humphreys, where he first describes the sickness when the deceased could not retain anything on the stomach, and then he went on to describe it as “hawking," rather than vomiting? Dr. Macnamara: That points rather to inflammation of the stomach or bowels than to arsenical poisoning. Sir Russell: Now, you have noticed in Dr. Humphreys’ evidence where he describes the application of a blister to the stomach with the view to stopping the retching and vomiting, and where he describes that it seemed to be effective for a time—is it your experience that an application of that kind would stop arsenical vomiting? Dr. Macnamara: It would not stop arsenical poisoning, but it would be very judicious in the case of gastro-enteritis, and would stop it. Sir Russell: You have used the words arsenical poisoning? Dr. Macnamara: I meant the vomiting attending upon arsenical poisoning. Sir Russell: Now, some reference has been made to dryness in the throat and a sensation as if a hair were present. Can you say whether these are distinctive symptoms of arsenical poisoning? Dr. Macnamara: In the vast number of cases I have had under treatment in which I have been administering arsenic, I have never heard one of them complain of a hair in the throat; but I have had repeatedly very many patients to whom arsenic had never been administered but who continually complained of this sensation—a reflex action of the throat. Sir Russell: In that case what was the patient suffering from? Dr. Macnamara: Oh, scarcely anything. There is one lady I know now frequently complains of it, and is in perfect health. Sir Russell: You don’t attach much importance to the symptom? Dr. Macnamara: Not any. Sir Russell: As regards tenesmus, I must ask you, whenever there is tenesmus, does it follow or precede violent purging? Dr. Macnamara: It follows in arsenical poisoning. If follows violent purging. Sir Russell: Have you ever known cases where it preceded it? Dr. Macnamara: Never. I don’t remember ever having read of such a case. Sir Russell: Now, you have spoken of cramps as a symptom—cramps, I understand you to say, in the calves of the leg? Dr. Macnamara: Yes. Sir Russell: You have heard the description of Dr. Humphreys of pains in the thighs. Have you in your experience known of that in connection with cases of saturation or over-saturation with arsenic? Dr. Macnamara: Never. Sir Russell: I would like to ask you this question. Have you ever in your experience diagnosed patients living, and then had the opportunity of examining the remains post-mortem? Dr. Macnamara: I have. Sir Russell: And have you found that, on your post-mortem, diagnosis was not borne out? Dr. Macnamara: Unfortunately, I have. Sir Russell: Are there cases that you have not, from the post-mortem, been able to satisfy yourself as to the cause of death at all? Dr. Macnamara: There are repeated cases of that kind. Sir Russell: Now, bringing your best judgment to bear upon the matter, you have been present at the whole of this trial, and heard the evidence, in your opinion was this a death from arsenical poisoning? Dr. Macnamara: Certainly not. Mr. Addison cross-examining: As you have listened to the case, and formed your own opinion, will you tell me what he died of? Dr. Macnamara: To the best of my judgment and belief, he died of gastro-enteritis, not connected with arsenical poisoning. Mr. Addison: Are you agreed, then, with the gentlemen called fro the Crown, and with Dr. Tidy, that he died of gastro-enteritis, which is an inflammation of the stomach and bowels? Dr. Macnamara: I am. Mr. Addison: And the gastro-enteritis is due also, I believe, to some foreign substance—I do not want to use the word poison, because Dr. Tidy guarded himself? Dr. Macnamara: No, I do not agree with Dr. Tidy in that. I think foreign substances, in the manner in which he guarded himself, may give rise to gastro-enteritis; but I believe there are outside circumstances which, in a patient, would certainly result in gastro-enteritis. Mr. Addison: But do outside circumstances mean, taking something that produces it in the system? Dr. Macnamara: No, dear, no. Shall I explain? The case of a person affected or troubled with a weak stomach—suppose dyspepsia—exposed to wet for some time, and not taking proper care and precaution against getting wet; the result is that the blood from the surface of the body is driven to the internal organs—amongst others, the stomach—and there produces that which you explain as congestion; and if, by any accident, such a patient committed any trifling error of diet, the result would be gastro-enteritis—a gastritis that would extend down to the bowels, constituting the congestion of the stomach and of the bowels. Mr. Addison: Then, in other words, you disagree with Dr. Tidy, and you think that gastro-enteritis may be produced idiopathically? Dr. Macnamara: I do not say idiopathically. I agree with Dr. Tidy, but I do go beyond Dr. Tidy in my experience, in my belief. Mr. Addison: The like to take him a little further, and you suggested foreign substances or fruit may have disagree with Mr. Maybrick? Dr. Macnamara: I have known very serious-- Mr. Addison: Don't speak like that, doctor, please. Without going into normal cases, do you suggest that in this particular case it was any particular food that caused this? Dr. Macnamara: Unless I was told that he was, I could not particularize it. Mr. Addison: Then does it require some to act as an irritant or poison upon that particular person? Dr. Macnamara: Oh, no. Mr. Addison: Then will harmless food do it? Dr. Macnamara: I have seen pips of grapes produce very great gastric disturbances. I have seen skins of gooseberries and other equally harmless substances act in that way. Mr. Addison: Does it require some sort of substance taken from the outside to produce it? Dr. Macnamara: I do not think all the evidence goes in that direction. Mr. Addison: You have spoken of a wetting. Will a wetting do it without taking pips of grapes or sausages? Dr. Macnamara: I can perfectly believe the wetting, coupled with neglect of precautions in a weak stomach and circulation, may produce these consequences. Mr. Addison: Then, do you mean to say that by getting wet elements of gastro-enteritis-- this acute inflammation--may be produced in the stomach and bowels? Dr. Macnamara: That, I think, is the evidence I have given. Mr. Addison: In saying that gastro-enteritis would be produced by a man with a weak stomach getting wet, do you understand that to be the opinion of Dr. Tidy as well? Dr. Macnamara: I do not; Dr. Tidy can speak for himself. Mr. Addison: Did you hear him give his evidence? Dr. Macnamara: I did. Mr. Addison: Do you agree or disagree with him? Dr. Macnamara: Will you kindly tell me what Dr. Tidy said? Mr. Addison: Did you hear him? Dr. Macnamara: I have heard so much in this Court that it would be very hard to tax my memory. Mr. Addison: Dr. Tidy said gastro-enteritis was produced by the introduction of some foreign substance into the stomach, producing the effect of an irritant? Dr. Macnamara: I got to Dr. Tidy is a toxicologist, but not as a general practitioner. Justice Stephen: Please answer the question. Do you agree with him or not? Dr. Macnamara: I do not. Mr. Addison: Do you agree that there is any diagnostics symptom in lifetime of arsenic. In other words, if you saw a case of arsenic in lifetime, is there anything to enable you to say this is arsenic rather than any other irritant? Dr. Macnamara: Well, that is a very difficult question. Mr. Addison: Well, pass on then. Probably it is a difficult question. All the symptoms--vomiting, purging, cramp, intense pulse--all these are symptoms of arsenical poisoning and other poisons? Dr. McNamara: Yes, and the other irritant poisons. Mr. Addison: You have told us of a lady who was quite well in health, and Who Feels the Sensation of a Hair in Her Throat. Then did you find intense thirst in that case? Dr. Macnamara: No. Mr. Addison: Do you find the throat to dry, glazed? Dr. Macnamara: No. Mr. Addison: What is that the effect of? Dr. Macnamara: Generally febrile disturbance; but, of course, it may arise in different ways. Mr. Addison: But if you find that accompanied by tenesmus, what does that arise from? Dr. Macnamara: In that case, it may be a case of gastritis or gastro-enteritis. Mr. Addison: Supposing you leave out the dysentery? Dr. Macnamara: It may be due to inflammation of the mucous membranes. Mr. Addison: Suppose you find the temperature nearly normal, and no fever whatever? Dr. Macnamara: Well, I should have to take into consideration the other symptoms. Mr. Addison: Quite so. Do you believe that tenesmus is generally the result of the vomiting? Dr. Macnamara: I do not understand your question. Mr. Addison: What is tenesmus, ineffectual straining, due to; to what is it due? Dr. Macnamara: It may be due to a great number of causes. Mr. Addison: But take this case? Dr. Macnamara: I should say it is one of the phenomena of gastro-enteritis. I have heard none of the witnesses in this case speak of cramp. Mr. Addison: You are quite right. Is it a fact that in cases of this kind the symptoms vary very much, both in degree, in order, and in the absence of some of them? Dr. Macnamara: Certainly. Sir Russell: I should like to ask you now, is dryness of the throat, according to your experience, it anyway peculiar to particular form of disease? Dr. Macnamara: It is not. Sir Russell: As regards the temperature, we know it was only taken wants, and that it was found to be one degree above what it is supposed to be a normal temperature. Mr. Addison: If my learned friends will allow me, the nurses' notes were put in, and they show that the temperature was taken at different times. Sir Russell: I was referring to Dr. Humphreys' evidence. Sir Russell (to witness): I wish to ask you this, doctor. Assume a case where there is a chronic weakness or derangement of the stomach, in the case of a man who had been taking various drugs, and who in that condition gets a wetting, such as that described, is a man in that condition the more liable from a slight cause to have set up in his system this gastro-enteritis? Dr. Macnamara: Yes. Sir Russell: The weaker, from whatever cause, the patient is, the more likely is disease to be set up? Dr. Macnamara: Yes, the weakest spot invariably suffers. Sir Russell: For instance, when you speak of cold or wet driving the blood to the parts and congesting, would it drive it to the weakest part? Dr. Macnamara: Yes, to the lungs if they were, and the stomach if it was. Sir Russell: I think, doctor, you know nothing about the parties concerned in this case? Dr. Macnamara: Neither directly nor indirectly. Frank Thomas Paul, F.R.C.S., (as examined by Sir Russell): I am Professor of Medical Jurisprudence at University College, Liverpool, and Examiner in Forensic Medicine and Toxicology to the Victoria University. Sir Russell: There are one or two smaller matters I must ask you about. In the first instance, you recollect the glazed pan produced by Mr. Davies? Dr. Paul: I do. Sir Russell: Have you seen a pan made in the same way—glazed in the same way? Dr. Paul: I believe so. Sir Russell: Did you yourself examine some of these pans? Dr. Paul: I did. Sir Russell: Are you satisfied yourself whether arsenic enters into the glazing of these pans? Dr. Paul: I found arsenic in all the pans that I have examined of this class, in the glazing. Sir Russell: I want to ask you how the arsenic in glazing is set free? Dr. Paul: Anything that will tend to corrode the pan at all. Sir Russell: Does that need any acid? Dr. Paul: Yes. Sir Russell: According to degree of the strength of the acid, the arsenic will be set free in a greater or less degree? Dr. Paul: It will. Sir Russell: Would this show in any marked way on the glazing? Dr. Paul: No, not unless it was carried to a great extent. Sir Russell: Well, will you just tell us what experiment you tried to show whether there was arsenic or not? Dr. Paul: I added a little acid to some boiling water in the pan, and applied Reinsch's test to the result, and found the copper was noted with a film of arsenic. I tried to four times over, with the different pans. [A pan was then handed to the witness, which, he stated, was exactly similar to the ones he had tested, and apparently of the same manufacturer.] Sir Russell: Now, have you also tried to the experiment of what quantity— what minute quantity— of arsenic in urine will reveal itself upon Reinsch's test? Dr. Paul: Yes. Sir Russell: Just tell us what was the experiment? Dr. Paul: I experimented with various quantities, and found 1-200th of a grain to one ounce, which would be readily detected by a person, scientific or otherwise, who saw the test; 1-1000th of a grain would be readily detected in this way. Sir Russell: Now, I wish just to follow that to thousandths of a grain. What I want to ask you is this. You can reduce that to proportion between the arsenic and the urine in which it is placed? Dr. Paul: I can. Sir Russell: And how many times was there the quantity of urine that there was of arsenic? Dr. Paul: About 55 thousand. Sir Russell: That would be 1 to 55 thousand? Dr. Paul: Yes. Sir Russell: Then you boiled it for how long did you say? Dr. Paul: I heated it for nearly one minute on the lamp, but not boiled all the time. Sir Russell: And you introduced the copper foil? Dr. Paul: We introduced the copper foil, and it showed the presence of arsenic. Sir Russell: Now, I wish to ask you this question. We have heard Dr. Humphreys' statements of his experiments, and also, it is proper to say, his expression of belief that it was perfectly carried out. Taking his account of what he did, viz., putting the urine and fæces upon the lamp about a minute and heating it— Justice Stephen: He said over the flame for two minutes till he had got it to a boiling point. Sir Russell: I want to ask, if a serious or fatal dose had been administered within a fortnight of that time, must there have been, in your judgment, a deposit on the copper? Dr. Paul: Yes, in my judgment. Sir Russell: Have you taken the test exactly as he described it? Dr. Paul: Yes. Sir Russell: In your judgment, how long after the taking the administration of arsenic in a series of over-medicinal doses —how long after that may its presence be revealed in the system? Dr. Paul: Do you mean if it has been continuous, or administered on one or two occasions? Sir Russell: First of all on one or two occasions? Dr. Paul: I think it would be eliminated in a fortnight on one or two occasions. Sir Russell: And taken over several occasions? Dr. Paul: Then the elimination would not be complete probably for months. Sir Russell: Just explain that? Dr. Paul: I take it, from my reading, that in cases of arsenical poisoning elimination appears to take place very rapidly over only one or two doses. But when people take arsenic for a long time— they may have given it up for months before death—still arsenic will be found after incorporated in some of the tissues. Sir Russell: The liver particularly? Dr. Paul: Yes. Sir Russell: Let me as soon the case of this being taken medicinally over considerable period, in medicinal doses, would you, long after its administration had been stopped, expect to find traces in the liver? Dr. Paul: I should. Sir Russell: Now, as regards the symptoms of this case—the symptoms during life, what do you say of the common symptoms? Dr. Paul: The common symptoms of those of an intense irritant in the stomach, producing violent vomiting, excessive purging, severe cramps, accompanied by pain over the stomach. Sir Russell: Would you expect to find tenesmus or straining to precede or to follow violent purging? Dr. Paul: To follow violent purging. Sir Russell: Now, you agree that one of the other of these symptoms may be wanting in cases of arsenical poisoning? Dr. Paul: They may. Sir Russell: Is it the result of your study and reading the several of that several of the most marked should be absent in any marked degree? Dr. Paul: No, certainly not. Sir Russell: I think you have, as pathologist and the Royal Infirmary, assisted at a great many post-mortem examinations? Dr. Paul: I have made between two and three thousand. Sir Russell: Have you assisted, amongst others, at post-mortems where the patient is supposed to have died from gastro-enteritis? Dr. Paul: I have. Sir Russell: And where there was no suggestion of arsenical poisoning? Dr. Paul: I have. Sir Russell: You know the symptoms described in this case? Dr. Paul: I do. Sir Russell: Did they, or did they not, accord with your experience of what you have found in cases of gastro-enteritis? Dr. Paul: They agree with cases of gastro-enteritis pure and simple. Sir Russell: Was there anything in the post-mortems appearances which were wanting if you had expected to find a case of arsenical poisoning? Dr. Paul: Yes. I would expect to find the stomach more affected, and showed the characteristics of the petechiæ spots. Sir Russell: You are aware that the petechiæ are not mentioned in the post-mortems notes? Dr. Paul: I am. Sir Russell: You are aware that Dr. Humphreys, as he candidly told us, was looking the subject up; that he did mentioned the word petechiæ, and then proceeded to define what he thought was petechiæ. Were they petechiæ at all? Dr. Paul: Certainly not, nothing like it. Sir Russell: I should ask you this. What, in your judgment, in the case of a man like the late Mr. Maybrick, described of such an age and so on, what would you described as a fatal dose of arsenic? Dr. Paul: Certainly Not less than three grains. Sir Russell: You are aware there is one recorded case of two grains; that was the case of a woman, was it not? Dr. Paul: Yes, it was. Sir Russell: Now, I ask you this. You have heard the account given by Dr. Stevenson and Mr. Davies as to the quantities actually found? Dr. Paul: I have. Sir Russell: First of all, I should like to ask you, do you agree that it is proper or safe to argue upon the quantities actually found in certain parts as to the possible quantity that may have been embodied? Dr. Paul: Certainly not. Sir Russell: And why not? Dr. Paul: Because it varies very much. Sir Russell: Unequally distributed? Dr. Paul: Yes. Sir Russell: And is the liver a part in which you would especially expect it? Dr. Paul: Of course, the analysis shows that it was very unequally distributed. Sir Russell: Looking at the fact that there was no trace in the bile, the spleen, in the stomach, and the heart, do you think that the calculation of Dr. Stevenson as to what might be assumed to be there is likely to be not very precise? His language was that there was possibly and approximately a fatal dose? Dr. Paul: I do not think it was a justifiable assumption. Sir Russell: Taking altogether what was found by hand and by Mr. Davies quantitatively, 88-1000ths or 92-1000ths, would you explained to the jury what that quantity would represent? Dr. Paul: It is so very small that I hardly can. I don't know anything quite small enough to indicate it. Sir Russell: It would be a very minute quantity? Dr. Paul: Very minute. A thousandth of a grain would be, I suppose, barely visible. Justice Stephen: Can you give us what to the eye a grain of arsenic would represent? Dr. Paul: A good big pin's head. Justice Stephen: That would be a grain? Dr. Paul: Yes, of solid arsenic. Sir Russell: What do you say would be visible to the naked eye, thousandth part of a grain? Divide a pin's head to one thousand parts, it would only be very small—very, very minute? Dr. Paul: Yes. Sir Russell: According to the figures given by Mr. Davies and Dr. Stevenson, the first of Jones said 88-1000ths, and the second 92-1000ths, would that be visible? Dr. Paul: Yes. Justice Stephen: Can you compare them with anything? Dr. Paul: I cannot think of anything I can suggest. Sir Russell: It would be altogether a little less than a tenth of a grain? Dr. Paul: I can imagine in my own mind what it would be to cut up a grain into ten parts. Sir Russell: It would be extremely small? Dr. Paul: Yes, a small dot would represent it. Sir Russell: You have heard of the minute quantities found in the places where there was arsenic in the body? Dr. Paul: Yes. Sir Russell: Is and that consistent with the case of a man who has been taking it medicinally? Dr. Paul: Yes, quite consistent. Sir Russell: And who had left it off? Dr. Paul: Yes, for a considerable time. Justice Stephen: When you say a considerable time, what do you mean—weeks, months, or what? Dr. Paul: I should say several months. Sir Russell: You have heard that the greatest eliminating agents the kidneys? Dr. Paul: Yes. Sir Russell: What is the action of repeating small or medicinal doses upon the kidneys? Dr. Paul: It tends to check the amount of water, and checks elimination. Sir Russell: Where do you expect to find in such cases the strongest evidence of the presence of the uneliminated arsenic? Dr. Paul: In the liver. Sir Russell: You told us you have assisted a very large number of post-mortem examinations; does your experience enable you to say whether you are always able to verify on the post-mortem the diagnosis that has been arrived at during life? Dr. Paul: No, frequently not. Sir Russell: And does it not frequently happen, though not, I presume, nearly so frequently, that on a post-mortem you are not able to satisfy yourself clearly as to the cause of death? Dr. Paul: It does sometimes, but not frequently in the hands of a skilled practitioner. Sir Russell: In your judgment, do you say this is a case of arsenical poisoning? Dr. Paul: I think it is a case of gastro-enteritis. The post-mortem appearances do not show that it was set up by arsenic. Sir Russell: If, in the case of a man who had been complaining for a considerable number of years of what do you would call chronic dyspepsia, who had been drugging himself, or had been drugged, following the occurrences we heard of on the day of Wirral races—take the case of such a man, would a slighter cause be sufficient on such a man to set up gastro-enteritis than in a man perfectly well? Dr. Paul: Certainly; such a case in such a man would be more likely to be fatal. Mr. Addison: Did you hear from his going to Wirral races—his sickness—would such sickness be any indication of poisoning? Dr. Paul: Oh, certainly. Mr. Addison: I would just ask you about his sickness occurring and reoccurring twice before he went to the Wirral races. Sickness is the first indication of an irritant poisoning? Dr. Paul: Violent vomiting is generally the first indication, not mere sickness. Mr. Addison: As regards gastro-enteritis, all the gentleman seem to be agreed that was what immediately followed—acute inflammation of the stomach and bowels, which set up exhaustion, which caused death in this case? Dr. Paul: Yes. Mr. Addison: Do you agree with Dr. Tidy and the gentleman from Ireland—Dr. Mcnamara—that it was gastro-enteritis that caused such inflammation to be set up without foreign agency? Dr. Paul: Yes, I think it could. I have seen a great deal more redness in cases of death from natural causes. Mr. Addison: What natural cause? Dr. Paul: Scirrhosis of the liver particularly. Mr. Addison: That is hardness of the liver? Dr. Paul: Yes. Any condition which may produce congestion of the stomach and intestines is liable to run into inflammation. Mr. Addison: Can you suggest any other cause than scirrhosis to produce such an acute inflammation of the stomach? Dr. Paul: There is disease of the heart. Justice Stephen: I think every medical witness who has been examined has said that he would put special diseases tending to produce inflammation on the same footing as the introduction from without of a tainted body. The instances which they gave were in particular ulcers and cancers. And this gentleman seems to think that this scirrhosis of the liver is a case of the same kind. Mr. Addison: It is a very fatal and terrible disease? Dr. Paul: It slowly tends to a fatal end. Mr. Addison: That is that all these diseases, such as heart disease and scirrhosis of the liver, produce such a state of the stomach or the intestines as would be readily ascertainable on a post-mortem without your skill? Dr. Paul: I should think so. Mr. Addison: You have told us that where arsenic was taken medicinally, the presence in the liver of those quantities may be attributable to the medicines which have been taken up to seven months before? Dr. Paul: That is the longest case in my reading. I took an extreme case. Mr. Addison: In your practice, how long? Have you ever started with a case in which there were traces in the liver of arsenic, and in which you could trace in the post-mortem how long before it had been taken? Dr. Paul: I have never analysed the liver in such a case. I cannot answer from my own experience, I can only answer from my reading. Mr. Addison: May I take it you have no experience of arsenic found in the liver as the remains of the administration some months or weeks before? Dr. Paul: You can hardly find in the man in England except a specialist who could answer that. Mr. Addison: I don't suggest. It might have been that you had some practical knowledge of it. You have often found in post-mortem examinations arsenic in the liver? Dr. Paul: Often; no. Mr. Addison: Have you never had a case at all where you detected arsenic in the liver? Dr. Paul: I have never analysed and found arsenic in such cases, having had no large experience. Mr. Addison: Can you remember a case in which you have had arsenic in the liver? Dr. Paul: I have not been engaged in an arsenical case before this. Mr. Addison: Well, that does not detract from your general knowledge, but you cannot recollect any case in your own mind that you have found arsenic in the liver? Dr. Paul: I have never had such a case. Mr. Addison: Then, I think, I cannot ask you how long before finding it there, from the history of the case, it was administered? Dr. Paul: Not from my own experience. Justice Stephen: Have you carefully considered the question how long arsenic administered either medicinally or of some motive of his own by the person who took it, how long it remains in the liver? Dr. Paul: Not personally, my lord. It is very clear to my mind what the conclusion is. When arsenic is taken for a line of time it becomes very closely incorporated in the tissues of the body, and is very difficult to eliminate. Mr. Addison: We have hated from Dr. Tidy in Dr. Stevenson, both men of great experience, and I was seeing whether you had the same advantages of noticing the arsenic in the liver and are able to trace in back? Dr. Paul: I have nothing like the experience of those gentleman. Mr. Addison: In your reading, you have read as an outside case of seven months? Dr. Paul: Yes, as an outside case. Mr. Addison: Then you have told us of those spots—which I find so difficult to pronounce—these petechiæ spots. Were you then speaking from your general skill and knowledge? Dr. Paul: I was. Mr. Addison: Now, with the matters of vomiting and purging, these are common symptoms of arsenical poisoning, but is not tenesmus the result of purging? Dr. Paul: In might experience tenesmus results from severe purging. Mr. Addison: But in the case of an irritant, assuming there was some irritant in this man's system, would not the purging lead to tenesmus? Dr. Paul: I think it is far more common then you seem to assume. Mr. Addison: In this case do you think it was from purging? Dr. Paul: I cannot say positively. It is from some irritant in the blood. Mr. Addison: Well, then, in the pains in the stomach. We are told that abdominal pains were first complained of, and these are produced, I think, that acute inflammation of the stomach? Dr. Paul: We had rather to judge between one of the nurses and the doctors, and the doctors said nothing about pain. I always go by the doctors in these cases. Mr. Addison: One of the nurses did speak of the pains on Friday? Dr. Paul: I paid very little attention to this, because the nurses could tell the doctor, and if the pain was severe I can hardly imagine the nurse would pass over it. Mr. Addison: Have you any doubt that inflammation of the stomach was there? Dr. Paul: Surely he would have complained of it. Mr. Addison: Have you any doubt after hearing the statement as to the condition of the stomach? Dr. Paul: I don't think the condition of the stomach was at all unusual. Mr. Addison: Do you mean that he did not die from it? Dr. Paul: I presume that he died from exhaustion, produced by gastro-enteritis. I do not call this a severe case. Mr. Addison: Don't you call a case which kills a man an indication of severe inflammation? Dr. Paul: Some people are more easily killed than others. He merely had to get into a condition of exhaustion. I don't think there was pain in this case; I feel morally certain there was not. Mr. Addison: Now, in the same way about the experiment you made, I suppose you used the same size of copper that Dr. Humphreys says he used? Dr. Paul: I tried to get it the same size. Mr. Addison: And did you perform the experiment lately? Dr. Paul: I performed a number of the experiments on which Dr. Humphreys gave his evidence in order to prove them. Mr. Addison: You are a skilled chemist? Dr. Paul: Yes. Mr. Addison: And the results on the copper required a skilled eye to detect? Dr. Paul: Would you like to look at them? Mr. Addison: No; probably the jury would like to see them. It would take a skilled eye to detect them on the copper? Dr. Paul: Certainly not; if you only ask an unskilled person to look at it. Mr. Addison: I will take your answer, but it is true that very often when the arsenic is there it is not traced to the urine? Dr. Paul: I think it is there sometimes when not in the urine. Mr. Addison: That arsenic when in the body sometimes cannot be traced in the urine? Dr. Paul: I think that depends very much upon how recent the administration was. A single dose or two is rapidly eliminated, and certainly would be found in the urine; but it locked up in the liver for some time, the elimination would be extraordinarily slow. Mr. Addison: May are ask you whether you have had any patience suffering from excessive doses of arsenic do you have examined professionally? Dr. Paul: I do not know that I have. Mr. Addison: Then the result of your skill is from reading? None of your patients had been suffering from excessive doses, and you examined none to ascertain this point? Dr. Paul: No. Mr. Addison: The arsenic was found by Mr. Davies after the ordinary preparation in the food? Dr. Paul: Yes. Mr. Addison: I think he said he detected none after boiling water. The pan was one such as you have here. What did you use? Dr. Paul: Hydrochloric acid. Mr. Addison: What quantity? Dr. Paul: About one in ten. I have tried it with soda, and found this enamel on the pan contained arsenic. Mr. Addison: Did you try the experiment with warm water? Dr. Paul: I did. Mr. Addison: Could you detect arsenic in the pan? Dr. Paul: Not simply with warm water. I examined it by Reinsch's test. Mr. Addison: Did you find arsenic in the liver? Dr. Paul: Yes. Mr. Addison: To what extent? Dr. Paul: I cannot say. I had only a small piece. Sir Russell (re-examining): You tried it by Reinsch's test to see whether it indicated the presence of arsenic? Dr. Paul: That is so. Sir Russell: And you have no doubt that there was? Dr. Paul: I have no doubt that there was. Sir Russell: As regards the detectability of arsenic, if a man has been taking it for a considerable time, you say it would be less quickly eliminated? Dr. Paul: After the dosing is stopped, yes. Sir Russell: And in such cases as that, it may be in the system without necessarily revealing itself in the urine? Dr. Paul: Yes. Sir Russell: As regards the pain in the pit of the stomach, does that increase on pressure? That is the pain you refer to? Dr. Paul: Yes. Sir Russell: Let me remind you of what Dr. Humphreys said about the Wirral races. He said that Mr. Maybrick had told him that he had taken a double dose of his medicine, and he repeated the same thing to Mr. Thompson. Would that be sufficient to account for his sickness before he went to the Wirral races? Dr. Paul: Yes. Sir Russell: Would it also probably have the effect of making his stomach more sensitive—increasing any normal derangement? Dr. Paul: It would. Hugh Lloyd Jones (examined by Mr. Pickford): I am a chemist and druggist, carrying on a business at Bangor. I was for some time assistant to Mr. Lathbury, a chemist, of Liverpool. Mr. Pickford: Can you speak, when you were there, as to the use of arsenic as a cosmetic? Mr. Jones: I can speak to the fact that ladies came to buy fly-papers when no flies were about. Mr. Pickford: Apart from that, do you know from the usual experience of your business that arsenic is used as a cosmetic? Mr. Jones: I do not know of my own experience; but I know there is an impression in the trade that it is used for that purpose. James Bioletti (examined by Sir Charles Russell): I am a hairdresser and perfumer, carrying on business on Dale Street, Liverpool. I have been in business for about thirty years. Arsenic is used a good deal in the hair for some purposes, and I have used it as a wash for the face on being asked for it by ladies. There is an impression among ladies that it is good for the complexion. I have used it on a few occasions, and only when I have been asked for it. Sir Russell: Was Mrs. Maybrick ever a customer of yours? Mr. Bioletti: Not to my knowledge. Mr. Addison (cross-examining): You say that you use it for the hair. Tell me how you use it? Mr. Bioletti: Very largely for removing here. It is used principally by ladies for removing here from the arms. I mix it with lime—one-quarter of arsenic to three-quarters of lime, in powder. I generally use yellow arsenic, but I have used white arsenic. I put the lime and arsenic up together and label it "Depilatory," along with the directions. Mr. Addison: There is nothing to show that there is arsenic in it? Mr. Bioletti: No. I generally put it up in a two-ounce bottle. I produce one of my bottles. The label is as follows:--"Depilatory, to remove superfluous hair; mix with a quantity of water to the consistency of a thick cream, and then spread one-eighth of an inch on skin, and all over it, to remain three minutes; if the skin is sensitive, five minutes. Then remove it with a paper knife. Wash with cold water, and apply a little cold cream. Do not touch a sore or it will be painful." I have never tasted it, and I cannot say whether the lime would make the yellow arsenic very nasty to the taste. Mr. Addison: Do you know whether it is used as a cosmetic? Mr. Bioletti: Not as a rule. I have been asked for it a very few times in my life. I have been spoken to on the subject by ladies, asking as to its value as a cosmetic. It is supposed to be a good thing for improving the complexion. I only prepared it just for the occasion, and only in small quantity. I only remember distinctly one occasion. Sir Russell (re-examining): The depilatory is in common use. Sir Russell: Although you do not have it for sale, are you sometimes asked for it for the purpose of cosmetics? Mr. Bioletti: Yes. Sir Russell: In that case you would prepared it in that form, I suppose, in solution? Mr. Bioletti: I would just put a little into milk of almonds. I have seen it in the country papers recommended for making the hair grow. Edwin Maybrick (recalled, examined by Mr. Addison): Shown box labelled "Taylor Brothers, Pharmaceutical Chemist's, Norfolk, Virginia. Iron, Quinine, and Arsenic, one capsule every three or four hours; to be taken after food. Mr. Maybrick." I found that pill box in the drawer of the wash-hand stand in my brother's bedroom. The last time my brother was in Norfolk, Virginia, was in 1884. Edwin Maybrick (cross-examined by Sir Russell): I found the pill box a week or two after my brother died—before the furniture was removed. I was aware that Mr. Cleaver was acting for Mrs. Maybrick. I did not communicated with him. Sir James Poole (examined by Sir Russell): I am a merchant, and have lived practically my whole business life here. I at one time served the office of Mayor. I knew the late Mr. James Maybrick. I belong to the Palatine Club, of which he was a member. I remember one day in the month of April of this year coming out of the underwriters' room and meeting him and one or two other friends. Some one made the remark that it was becoming a common custom to take poisonous medicines. Mr. Maybrick, who had an impetuous way, blurted out, "I take poisonous medicines." I said, "How horrid. Don't you know, my dear friend, that the more you take of these things the more you require, and you will go on till they carry you off." I think he made some expression and shrugged his shoulders, and I went on. Sir Russell: That is the evidence I place before you, my lord. I don't know what the desire of the lady may be now as to making any statement. Mr. Addison: It appears to me that Sir Charles might very well make them himself if they are to be received. Sir Russell: I will ask the lady what is now her wish. Sir Russell held a short whispered conversation with Mrs. Maybrick—Then he said, addressing his Lordship: My Lord, I wish to tell you what has taken place. I asked if it was her wish to make any statement, and she said "Yes." I asked her if it was written, and she said "No."

  Obviously we are only allowed to access a certain amount of documents there are other documents to be included in this case. As we can not access them we will have to make do with what we have.

Moving on i will now add the so called Diary of James maybrick please leave your comments after reading and let me know what you think

Thanks to my sources which are The Case Book Files and Wiki sources.

 

The Diary Of James Maybrick.

What they have in store for them they would stop this instant. But do I desire that? My answer is no. They will suffer just as I. I will see to that. Received a letter from Michael perhaps I will visit him. Will have to come to some sort of decision regards the children. I long for peace of mind but I sincerely believe that that will not come until I have sought my revenge on the whore and the whore master.

Foolish bitch, I know for certain she has arranged a rondaveau with him in Whitechapel. So be it, my mind is firmly made. I took refreshment at the Poste House it was there I finally decided London it shall be. And why not, is it not an ideal location ? Indeed do I not frequently visit the Capital and indeed do I not have legitimate reason for doing so. All who sell their dirty wares shall pay, of that I have no doubt. But shall I pay ? I think not I am too clever for that.

As usual my hands are cold, my heart I do believe is colder still. My dearest Gladys is unwell yet again, she worries me so. I am convinced a dark shadow lays over the house, it is evil. I am becoming increasingly weary of people who constantly enquire regards the state of my health. True my head and arms pain me at times, but I am not duly worried, although I am quite certain Hopper believes to the contrary. I have him down as a bumbling buffoon. Thomas has requested that we meet as soon as possible. Business is flourishing so I have no inclination as regards the matter he describes as most urgent. Never the less I shall endeavour to meet his request.

Time is passing much too slowly, I still have to work up the courage to begin my I campaign. I have thought long and hard over the matter and still I cannot come to a decision to when I should begin. Opportunity is there, of that fact I am certain. The bitch has no inclination.

The thought of him taking her is beginning to thrill me, perhaps I will allow her to continue, some of my thoughts are indeed beginning to give me pleasure. Yes I will visit Michael for a few weeks, and allow her to take all she can from the whoring master. Tonight I shall see mine. I may return to Battlecrease and take the unfaithful bitch. Two in a night, indeed pleasure. My medicine is doing me good, in fact I am sure I can take more than any other person alive. My mind is clear, I will put whore through pain tonight.

I am beginning to believe it is unwise to continue writing, If I am to down a whore then nothing shall lead the persuers back to me, and yet there are times when I feel an overwhelming compulsion to place my thoughts to paper. It is dangerous, that I know. If Smith should find this then I am done before my campaign begins. However, the pleasure of writing off all that lays ahead of me, and indeed the pleasure of thoughts of deeds that lay ahead of me, thrills me so. And oh what deeds I shall commit. For how could one suspect that I could be capable of such things, for am I not, as all believe, a mild man, who it has been said would never hurt a fly. Indeed only the other day did not Edwin say of me I was the most gentlest of men he had encountered. A compliment from my dear brother which I found exceedingly flattering.

Tomorrow I travel to Manchester. Will take some of my medicine and think hard on the matter. I believe I could do so, though I shake with fear of capture. A fear will have to overcome. I believe I have the strength. I will force myself not to think of the children. The whore, that is all that shall be in my mind. My head ache

My dear God my mind is in a fog. The whore is now with her maker and he welcome to her. There was no pleasure as I squeezed, I felt nothing. Do not know I have the courage to go back to my original idea. Manchester was cold and damp very much like this hell hole. Next time I will throw acid over them. The thought of them uncertain and screaming while the acid burns deep thrills me. ha, what a job it would be if I could gouge an eye out and leave it by the whores body for all to see ha ha

I believe I have caught a chill. I cannot stop shaking, my body aches. There a times when I pray to God that the pain and torment will stop. Summer is near uncertain warm weather will do me good. I long for peace but my work is only beginning will have a long wait for peace. All whores must suffer first and my God how I will make them suffer as she has made me. Edwin asked regards Thomas and business informed him that Thomas was well and business was flourishing, both true. I have it in my mind that I should write to Michael, perhaps not, my hands are far too cold, another day. I will take the bitch tonight. I need to take my mind off tonight's events. The children are well.

Strolled by the drive, encountered Mrs Hamersmith, she enquired of Bobo and Gladys and much to my astonishment about my health. What has that whore sail Mrs Hammersmith is a bitch. The fresh air and stroll did me good. For a while succeeded in forgetting the bitch and her whoring master. Felt complete refreshed when I returned to my office. I will visit Michael this coming June. June such a pleasant month, the flowers are in full bud the air is sweeter and life is almc certainly much rosier I look forward to its coming with pleasure. A great deal pleasure. I feel compelled to write to Michael if not obliged. My mind is clear, uncertain hands are not cold.

I am vexed. I am trying to quell my anger. The whore has suggested she accompany me on my trip to Michael. I need time to put my mind in order. Under I circumstances can I let the bitch accompany me, all my hard work and plans willl destroyed if she were to do so. The pain was bad today. I believe the bitch has foul one of my bottles, it had been moved. I am tired and need sleep the pain kept me awake for most of last night. Will return early avoid the bitch altogether.

Frequented my Club - George stated that he had never seen me in better health believe the bitch has changed her mind. My thoughts are becoming increasin! more daring, I have i agined doing all manner of things. Could I eat part of on Perhaps it would tas e of fresh fried bacon - My dear God it thrills me so. Michael is expecting me towards the end of June, henceforth from July my campaign will gather momentum. I will take each and everyone before I return them their maker, damaged of course, severely damaged.

I try to repel all thoughts of the children from my mind. I feel strong, stronger than I have ever felt. My thoughts keep returning to Manchester, next time it will thrill me. I know in my heart it will. I cannot understand why William will not accept my offer to dine. He is not unlike me, he hates the bitch. I believe if chance prevails I will bum St. James's to the ground. tomorrow I will make a substantial wager. I feel lucky.

If I could have the bastard Lowry with my uncertain then I would have done so. How dare he question me on any matter, it is I that should question him. Damn him damn him damn him should I replace the missing items? No that would be too much of a risk. Should I destroy this? My God I will kill him. Give him no reason to order him poste haste to drop the matter, that I believe is the only course of action I can take. I will force myself to think of something more pleasant. The whore will suffer more than she has ever done so tonight, that thought revitalizes me. June is drawing to a close I shake with anticipation.

I have taken too much my thoughts are not where they should be. I recall little of the events of yesterday. Thank God I stopped myself in time. I will show my wrath towards the bastard in such a manner that he will wish he had never brought up the subject. No one, not even God himself will away the pleasure of writing my thoughts. I will take the first whore I encounter and show her what hell is really like. I think I will ram a cane into the whoring bitches mound and leave it there for them to see how much she could take. My head aches, God has no right to do this to me the devil take him.

[edit]216

How I succeeded in controlling myself I do not know. I have not allowed for the red stuff, gallons of it in my estimation. Some of it is bound to spill onto me. I cannot - allow my clothes to be blood drenched, this I could not explain to anyone least of all Michael. Why did I not think of this before? I curse myself. The struggle to stop myself was overwhelming, and if I had not asked Michael to lock me in my bedroom for fear of sleepwalking, to which I had said I had been prone to do recently, was that not clever? I would have done my dirty deeds that very night.

[edit]217

I have taken a small room in Middlesex Street, that in itself is a joke. I have paid well and I believe no questions will be asked. It is indeed an ideal location. I have walked the streets and have become more than familiar with them. I said Whitechapel it will be and Whitechapel it shall. The bitch and her whoring master will rue the day I first saw them together. I said I am clever, very clever. Whitechapel Liverpool, Whitechapel London, ~ No one could possibly place it together. And indeed for there is no reason for anyone to do so. The next time I travel to London I shall begin. I have no doubts, my confidence is most high. I am thrilled writing this, life is sweet, and my disappointment has vanished. Next time for sure. I have no doubts, not any longer, no doubts. No one will ever suspect. Tomorrow I will purchase the finest knife money can buy, nothing shall be too good for my whores, I will treat them to the finest, the very finest, they deserve that at least from I.

I have shown all that I mean business, the pleasure was far better than I imagined. The whore was only too willing to do her business. I recall all and it thrills me. There was no scream when I cut. I was more than vexed when the head would not come off. I believe I will need more strength next time. I struck deep into her. I regret I never had the cane, it would have been a delight to have rammed it hard into her. The bitch opened like a ripe peach. I have decided next time I will rip all out. My medicine will give me strength and the thought of the whore and her whoring master will spur me on no end.

The gentle man with gentle thoughts will strike again soon. I have never felt better, in fact, I am taking more than ever and I can feel the strength building up within me. The head will come off next time, also the whores hands. Shall I leave them in various places around Whitechapel? Hunt the head and hands instead of the thimble ha ha. Maybe I will take some part away with me to see if it does taste of like fresh fried bacon. The whore seen her master today it did not bother me. I imagined I was with them, the very thought thrills me. I wonder if the whore has ever had such thoughts? I believe she has, has she not cried out when I demand she takes another. The bitch. She will suffer but not as yet. Tomorrow I travel to London. I have decided I cannot wait any longer. I look forward to tomorrow nights work, it will do me good, a great deal of good.

Am I not clever? I thought of my funny little rhyme on my travel to the City of Whores. I was vexed with myself when I realised I had forgotten the chalk. So vexed in fact that I returned to the bitch and cut out more. I took some of it away with me. It is in front of me. I intend to fry it and eat it later - The very thought works up my appetite. I cannot stop the thrill of writing. I ripped open my God I will have to stop thinking of the children they distract me so I ripped open

[edit]218

The wait to read about my triumph seemed long, although it was not. I am not disappointed, they have all written well. The next time they will have a great deal more to write, of that fact I have no doubt ha ha. I will remain calm and show no interest in my deed, if anyone should mention it so, but I will laugh inside, oh how I will laugh.

I will not allow too much time to pass before my next. Indeed I need to repeat my pleasure as soon as possible. The whoring Master can have her with pleasure and I shall have my pleasure with my thoughts and deeds. I will be clever. I will not call on Michael on my next visit. My brothers would be horrified if they knew, particularly Edwin after all did he not say I was one of the most gentlest of men he had ever encountered. I hope he is enjoying the fruits of America. Unlike I, for do I not have a sour fruit.

[edit]219

I could not resist mentioning my deed to George. I was clever and brought up the subject by way of how fortunate we were not having murders of that kind in this city .He agreed with me completely. Indeed he went on to say, that he believed we had the finest police force in the land, and although we have our fair share of troubles the womenfolk can walk the streets in safety. And indeed they can for I will not play my funny little games on my own doorstep.

[edit]220

One dirty whore was looking for some gain Another dirty whore was looking for the same.

[edit]221

It has taken me three days to recover. I will not feel guilty it is the whoring bitch to blame not I. I ate all off it, it did not taste like fresh fried bacon but I enjoyed it never the less. She was so sweet and pleasurable. I have left the stupid fools a clue which I am sure they will not solve. Once again I have been clever, very clever.

two farthings, two pills the whores M rings

Think

The pills are the answer end with pills. Indeed do I always not oh what a joke. Begin with the rings, one ring, two rings

bitch, it took me a while before I could wrench them off. Should have stuffed them down the whores throat. I wish to God I could have taken the head. Hated her for wearing them, reminds me too much of the whore. Next time I will select a whore who has none. The bitch was not worth the farthings. Return, return, essential to return. Prove you are no fool.

[edit]222

One ring, two rings, A farthing one and twoAlong with M ha ha Will catch clever Jim, Its true No'pill, left but two

Am I not indeed a clever fellow ? It makes me laugh they will never understand why I did so. Next time I will remember the chalk and write my funny little rhyme. The eyes will come out of the next. I will stuff them in the whores mouth. That will certainly give me pleasure, it does so as I write. Tonight I will see mine, she will be pleased as I will be gentle with her as indeed I always am.

I am still thinking of burning St. James's to the ground. I may do so on my next visit. That will give the fools something more to think on. I am beginning to think less of the children, part of me hates me for doing so. One day God will answer to me, so help me. Michael would be proud of my funny little rhyme for he knows only too well the art of verse. Have I not proven I can write better than he. Feel like Celebrating, the night has been long and I shall award myself with the pleasures of the flesh, but I shall not be uncertain I will save that thrill for another day.

[edit]226

The whore is in debt. Very well I shall honour the bitches notes but the whores are going to pay more than ever. I have read all of my deeds they have done me proud, I had to laugh, they have me down as left handed, a Doctor, a slaughterman and a Jew. Very well, if they are to insist that I am a Jew then aJew I shall be. Why not let the Jews suffer ? I have never taken to them, far too many of them on the Exchange for my liking. I could not stop laughing when I read Punch there for all to see was the first three letters of my surname. They are blind as they say.

"Turn round three times, And catch whom you MAY" hahahahahaha

[edit]227

I cannot stop laughing it amuses me so shall I write them a clue?

May comes and goes
in the dark of the night he kisses the whores
then gives them a fright With a ring on my finger and a knife in my hand
This May spreads Mayhem throughout this fair land.

 
The Jews and the Doctors Will get all the blame but its only May
playing his dirty game

He will kill all the whores and not shed a tear
I will give them a clue but nothing too clear
I will kill all the whores and not shed a tear.

May comes and goes
in the dark of the night He kisses the whores
and gives them a fright

The Jews and the Doctors will get all the blame
but its only May playing his dirty game

I will give them a clue but nothing too clear
I will kill all the whores and not shed a tear

With a ring on my finger and a knife in my hand
This May spreads Mayhem throughout this fair land.

They remind me of chickens with their heads cut off running fools with no heads, -It is nice to laugh at bastards and fools and indeed they are fools. I need much more pleasure than I have had. Strange my hands feel colder than they have ever done so.

I am fighting a battle within me. My desire for revenge is overwhelming. The whore has destroyed my life. I try whenever possible to keep all sense of respectability. I worry so over Bobo and Gladys, no others matter. Tonight I will take more than ever. I miss the thrill of cutting them up. I do believe I have lost my mind. All the bitches will pay for the pain. Before I am finished all of England will know the name I have given myself. It is indeed a name to remember. It shall be, before long, on every persons lips within the land. Perhaps her gracious Majesty will become acquainted with it. I wonder if she will honour me with a knighthood.

I miss Edwin. I have received but one letter from him since his arrival in the whores country. The bitch is vexing me more as each day passes. If I could I would have it over and done with. I visited my mother and fathers grave. I long to be reunited with them. I believe they know the torture the whore is putting me through. I enjoy the thrill of thinking of all I have done. But there has been, but once, regret for my deeds. I dispelled my remorse instantly. The whore still believes I have no knowledge of her whoring master. I have considered killing him, but if I was to do so I would surely be caught. I have no desire for that, curse him and the whore their time will come.

Abberline says, he was never amazed,
I did my work with such honour.
For his decree
he had to agree,
I deserve at least an honour so all for a whim,
I can now rise Sir Jim

I cannot think of another word to accompany Jim. I like my words to rhyme damn it. It is late, mine is waiting, I will enjoy this evening. I will be gentle and not give anything away.

To my astonishment I cannot believe I have not been caught. My heart felt as if it had left my body. Within my fright I imagined my heart bounding along the street with I in desperation following it. I would have dearly loved to have cut the head of the damned horse off and stuff it as far as it would go down the whores throat. I had no time to rip the bitch wide, I curse my bad luck. I believe the thrill of being caught thrilled me more than cutting the whore herself. As I write I find it impossible to believe he did not see me, in my estimation I was less than a few feet from him. The fool panicked, it is what saved me. My satisfaction was far from complete, damn the bastard, I cursed him and cursed him, but I was clever, they could not out do me. No one ever will. Within the quarter of the hour I found another dirty bitch willing to sell her wares. The whore like all the rest was only too willing. The thrill she gave me was unlike the others, I cut deep deep deep. Her nose annoyed me so I cut it off, had a go at her eyes, lefr my mark, could not get the bitches head off. I believe now it is impossible to do so. The whore never screamed. I took all I could away with me. I am saving it for a rainy day.

Perhaps I will send Abberline and Warren a sample or two, it goes down well with an after dinner port. I wonder how long it will keep? Perhaps next time I will keep some of the red stuff and send it courtesy of yours truly. I wonder if they enjoyed my funny Jewish joke? Curse my bad luck had no time to write a funny little rhyme. Before my next will send Central another to remember me by. My God life is sweet. Will give them something to know it is me.

That should give the fools a laugh, it has done so for me, wonder if they have enjoyed the name I have given? I said it would be on the lips of all, and indeed it is. Believe I will send another. Include my funny little rhyme. That will convince them that it is the truth I tell. Tonight I will celebrate by wining and dining George. I am in a good mood, believe I will allow the whore the pleasure of her whore master, will remark an evening in the city will do her good, will suggest a concert. I have no doubt the carriage will take the bitch straight to him. uncertain I will go to sleep thinking about all they are doing. I cannot wait for the thrill.

Am I not a clever fellow

With a rose to match the red,
I tried to cut off the head.
Damn it I cried,
the horse went and shied,
hence forth I did hide,
but I could still smell her sweet scented breath

One whore no good,
decided Sir Jim strike another.
I showed no fright,
and indeed no light.
Damn it, the tin box was empty

Sweet sugar and tea
could have paid my small fee
But instead I did flee
and by way showed my glee
by eating cold kidney for supper

Oh, Mr Abberline he is a clever little man,
he keeps back all that he can.
For do I not know better, Indeed I do,
did I not leave him a very good clue
Nothing is mentioned of this I know sure,
ask clever Abberline, could tell you more

He believes I will trip over, but I have no fear.
For I could not possibly redeem it here.
Of this certain fact I could send them post-haste
If he requested that be the case

It has been far too long since my last, I have been unwell. The whole of my body has pained. Hopper did not believe me. One day I will take revenge on him. The whore has informed the bumbling buffoon. I am in the habit of taking strong medicine. I was furious when the bitch told me. So furious I hit her hard. The whore begged me not to do so again. It was a pleasure, a great deal of pleasure. If it was not for my work, I would have cut the bitch up there and then. But I am clever. Although the gentle man has turned, I did not show my hand true. I apologised, a one off instance, I said, which I regretted and I assured the whore it would never happen again. The stupid bitch believed me.

I have received several letters from Michael. In all he enquires about my health and asked in one if my sleepwalking has resumed. Poor Michael he is so easily fooled. I have informed him it has not. My hands still remain cold. I shall be dining tonight. I hope kidneys are on the menu, it Will put me in the mood for another little escapade. Will visit the city of whores soon, very soon. I wonder if I could do three?

If it were not for Michael insisting that we take dinner I would have tried my hand that very night. I cursed my brother as I have never cursed him before. I cursed my own stupidity, had I not informed Michael that I no longer sleepwalked I was forced to stop myself from indulging in my pleasure by taking the largest dose I have ever done. The pain that night has burnt into my mind. I vaguly recall putting a handkerchief in my mouth to stop my cries. I believe I vomited several times. The pain was intolerable, as I think I shudder. No more.

I am convinced God placed me here to kill all whores, for he must have done so, am I still not here. Nothing will stop me now. The more I take the stronger I become.

Michael was under the impression that once I had finished my business I was to return to Liverpool that very day. And indeed I did one day later - I fear not, for the fact will not come to his attention as he addresses all letters to me.

I have read about my latest, my God the thoughts, the very best. I left nothing of the bitch, nothing. I placed it all over the room, time was on my hands, like the other whore I cut off the bitches nose, all of it this time. I left nothing of her face to remember her by. She reminded me of the whore. So young unlike I. I thought it a joke when I cut her breasts off, kissed them for a while. The taste of blood was sweet, the pleasure was overwhelming, will have to do it again, it thrilled me so. Left them on the table with some of the other stuff. Thought they belonged there. They wanted a slaughterman so I stripped what I could, laughed while I was doing so. Like the other bitches she ripped like a ripe peach. One of these days I will take the head away with me. I will boil it and serve it up for my supper. The key and burnt clothes puzzle them.

An initial here
and a initial there
would tell of the whoring mother
I had a key,
and with it I did flee.
The hat I did burn,
for light I did yearn.
And I thought of the whoring mother
A handkerchief red,
led to the bed
And I thought of the whoring mother.
A whores whim caused Sir Jim,
to cut deeper, deeper and deeper
All did go, As I did so,
back to the whoring mother.

I left it there for the fools but they will never find it. I was too clever. Left it in sight for all eyes to see. Shall I write and tell them? That amuses me. I wonder if next time I can carve my funny little rhyme on the whores flesh? I believe I will give it a try. It amuses me if nothing else. Life is sweet, very sweet. Regret I did not take any of it away with me it is supper time, I could do with a kidney or two

I cannot live without my medicine. I am afraid to go to sleep for fear of my nightmares reoccuring. I see thousands of people chasing me, with Abberline in front dangling a rope. I will not be stopped of that fact I am certain. It has been far too long since my last, I still desire revenge on the whore and the whore master but less than the desire to repeat my last performance. The thoughts still thrill me so. I am tired and I fear the city of whores has become too dangerous for I to return. Christmas is approaching and Thomas has invited me to visit him. I know him well. I have decided to accept his offer, although I know the motive behind it will strictly be business. Thomas thinks of nothing else except money unlike me,

My first was in Manchester so why not my next? If I was to do the same as the last, that would throw the fools into a panick, especially that fool Abberline. The children constantly ask what I shall be buying them for Christmas they shy away when I tell them a shiny knife not unlike Jack the Rippers in order that I cut their tongues for peace and quiet. I do believe I am completely mad. I have never harmed the children in the years since they have been born. But now I take great delight in scaring them so. May God forgive me. I have lost my battle and shall go -on until I am caught.

Perhaps I should stop myself and save the hangman a job. At this moment I have no feeling in my body, none at all. I keep assuring myself I have done no wrong. It is the whore who has done so, not I. Will peace of mind ever come? I have visited Hopper too often this month. I will have to stop, for I fear he may begin to suspect. I talk to him like no other.

If Jims uncertain,
Am I insane?
Cane^[1], gain

damn it damn it damn it so help me God my next will be far the worst, my head aches, but I will go on damn Michael for being so clever the art of verse is far from simple. I curse him so. Abberline Abberline, I shall destroy that fool yet, So help me God. Banish him from my thoughts, he will not catch Sir Jim yet

Abberline Abberline Abberline Abberline The devil take the bastard

I am cold curse the bastard Lowry for making me rip. I keep seeing blood pouring from the bitches. The nightmares are hideous. I cannot stop myself from wanting to eat more. God help me, damn you. No-one will stop me. God be damned. Think think think write tell all prove to them you are who you say you are make them believe it is the truth I tell. Damn him for creating them, damn him damn him damn him. I want to boil boil boil. See if there eyes pop. I need more thrills, cannot live without my thrills. I will go on, I will go on, nothing will stop me nothing.

Cut Sir Jim cut. Cut deep deep deep.
Oh costly intercourse of death
Banish the thoughts banish them banish them, ha ha ha,
Look towards the sensible brother
Chickens running round with their heads cut off .
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Am I not a clever fellow
outfoxed them all, they will never know
If Jim makes this uncertain,
uncertain uncertain uncertain his Bag.

I will have to take up lodgings on my return. Middlesex Street that was a joke. The fools, several times they could have caught me if they had looked good and proper. My God am I not clever? Indeed I am. My head spins will somehow have to find the strength for my journey home. The devil take this city, it is too cold for me. Tomorrow I will make Lowry suffer. The thought will thrill me on my journey home.

I cannot bring myself to look back, all I have written scares me so. George visited me today. I believe he knows what I am going through, although he says nothing. I can see it in his eyes. Poor George, he is such a good friend. Michael is well, he writes a merry tune. In my heart I cannot blame him for doing so. I regret I shall not see him this Christmas.

Encountered an old friend on the Exchange floor. I felt regret for was he not Jewish. I had forgotten how many Jewish friends I have. My revenge is on whores not Jews. I do believe I am truly sorry for the scare I have thrown amongst them. I believe that is the reason I am unable to write my funny little rhymes. I thank God I have had the courage to stop sending them. I am convinced they will be my undoing.

I am tired, very tired. I yearn for peace, but I know in my heart I will go on. I will be in Manchester within a few days. I believe I will feel a great deal better when I have repeated on my last performance. I wonder if I can improve on my fiendish deeds. Will wait and see, no doubt I will think of something. The day is drawing to a close, Lowry was in fine spirits. I am pleased. I regret, as with my Jewish friends I have shown my wrath. This coming Christmas I will make amends;

The bitch, the whore is not satisfied with one whore master, she now has eyes on another. I could not cut like my last, visions of her flooded back as I struck. I tried to quash all thoughts of love. I left her for dead, that I know. It did not amuse me. There was thrill. I have showered my fury on the bitch. I struck and struck. I do not know how I stopped. I have left her penniless, I have no regrets. The whore will suffer unlike she has ever suffered. May God have mercy on her for I shall not, so help me.

Thomas was in fine health. The children enjoyed Christmas. I did not. My mood is no longer black, although my head aches. I shall never become accustomed to the pain. I curse winter. I yearn for my favourite month, to see flowers in full bloom would please me so. Warmth is what I need, I shiver so. Curse this weather and the whoring bitch. My heart has been soft. All whores will feel the edge of Sir Jims shining knife. I regret I did not give myself that name, curse it, I prefer it much much more than the one I have given.

 
Sir Jim with his shining knife,
cuts through the night,
and by God,
does he not show his might.

It shall not be long before I strike again. I am taking more than ever. The bitch can take two, Sir Jim shall take four, a double double event - If I was in the city of whores I would do my fiendish deeds this very moment. By God I would.

I curse myself for the fool I have been, I shall have no more regrets, damn them all. Beware Mr Abberline I will return with a vengeance. Once more I will be the talk of England. What pleasure my thoughts do give me. I wonder if the whore will take the bastard? The bitch is welcome to him. I shall think about their deeds, what pleasure. Tonight I shall reward myself, I will visit mine, but I will not be gentle. I will show my whore what I am capable of. Sir Jim needs to whet his appetite, all whores be damned. A friend has turned, so be it, Sir J im will turn once more. When I have finished my fiendish deeds, the devil himself will praise me. But he will have a long wait before I shake hands with him. I have works to do a great deal of works - kidney for supper.

I am tired of keeping up this pretence of respectability. I am finding it increasingly difficult to do so. I believe I am a lucky fellow. Have I not found a new source for my medicine. I relish the thoughts that it will bring me. I enjoy thinking of the whores waiting for my nice shining knife. Tonight I write to Michael. Inform him I shall be visiting the city of whores soon, very soon. I cannot wait. The whore may take as many whore masters as she wishes. I no longer worry. I have my thoughts and pleasure of deeds to come, and oh what deeds I shall commit. Much, much finer than my last. Life is indeed sweet, very very sweet.

Dear Mr. Abberline, I am a lucky man
Next time I will do all that I can can,
with a little cut here, and a little cut there,
I will go laughing away to my lair

Damn it damn it damn it the bastard almost caught me, curse him to hell, I will cut him up next time, so help me. A few minutes and I would have done, bastard. I will seek him out, teach him a lesson. No one will stop me. Curse his black soul. I curse myself for striking too soon, I should have waited until it was truly quiet so help me L will take all next time and eat it. Will leave nothing not even the head. I will boil it and eat it with freshly picked-carrots. I shall think about Abberline as I am doing so, that will give me a laugh because the whore will suffer tonight for the deed she has done.

The bitch has written all, tonight she will fall.

So help me God I will cut the bitch up and serve her up to the children. How dare the whore write to Michael. The damn bitch had no right to inform him of my medicine. If I have my funny little way the whore will be served up this very night. I stood my ground and informed Michael it was a damn lie.

The bitch visits the city of whores soon, I have decided I will wait until the time is ripe then I will strike with all my might. I shall buy the whore something for her visit. Will give the bitch the impression I consider it her duty to visit her aunt. She can nurse the sick bitch and see her whoring master

Ha, what a joke, let the bitch believe I have no knowledge of her whoring affairs. When she returns the whore will pay. I relish the thoughts of striking the bitch once more. Am I not a clever fellow. I pride myself no one knows how clever I am. I do believe if George was to read this, he would say I am the cleverest man alive. I yearn to tell him how clever I have been, but I shall not, my campaign is far from over yet. Sir Jim will give nothing away, nothing. How can they stop me now this Sir Jim may live for ever. I feel strong, very strong, strong enough to strike in this damn cold city, believe I will. Why not, nobody does suspect the gentle man born. Will see how I will feel on my journey home, if the whim takes me then so be it. Will have to be careful not to get too much of the red stuff on me. Perhaps I will just cut the once, fool the fools, oh what a joke, more chickens running around with their heads cut off - I feel clever.

Sir Jim, live forever
ha ha ha ha ha
0 this clever Sir Jim, - he loves his whims
tonight he will call uncertain, and take away all. ha ha ha ha

Am I not a clever fellow, the bitch gave me the greatest pleasure of all. Did not the whore see her whore master in front of all, true the race was the fastest I have seen, but the thrill of seeing theuncertain with the bastard thrilled me more so than knowing his Royal Highness but a few feet away from yours truly ha ha what a laugh, if the greedy bastard uncertain have known he was less than a few feet away from the name all England was talking about he would have died there and then. Regret I could not tell the foolish fool. To hell with sovereignity, to hell with all whores, to hell with the bitch who rules.

Victoria, Victoria
The queen of them all.
When it comes to Sir Jack,
She knows nothing at all.
Who knows, perhaps one day
I will give her a call
Show her my knife
and she will honour me for life
Arise Sir Jack she will say, and now you can go, as you may
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Victoria, Victoria
the queen of them all
when it comes to Sir Jack she knows nothing at all
Arise Sir Jack she will say and now you can go as you
Jim, Jack Jack Jim ha ha ha

I was clever. George would be proud of me, told the bitch in my position I could not afford a scandal. I struck her several times an eye for an eye, - too many interfering servants, damn the bitches. Hopper will soon feel the edge of my shining knife, damn the meddling bufoon, damn all. Once more the bitch is in debt, my God I will cut her. Oh how I will cut her. I will visit the city of whores I will pay her dues and I shall take mine, by God I will. I will rip rip rip May seek the bastard out who stopped my funny little games and rip him to. I said he would pay. I will make sure he damn will. I feel a numbness in my body, the whores will pay for that. I wonder if Edwin is well? I long for him to return. I have decided that next time I will take the whores eyes out and send them to that fool Abberline.

bastard

bastard

take the eyes, take the head,
leave them all for dead

It does not amuse me. Curse that bastard Abberline, curse him to hell I will not dangle from any rope of his. I have thought often about the whore and her whoring master. The thoughts still thrill me. Perhaps one day the bitch will allow me to participate. Why not? All have taken her. Have I no right to the whore. I wish to do so.

The bitch

Fuller believes there is very little the matter with me. Strange, the thoughts he placed into my mind. I could not strike, I believe I am mad, completely mad. I try to fight my thoughts I w!llk the streets until dawn. I could not find it in my heart to strike, visions of my dear Bunny overwhelm me. I still love her, but how I hate her. She has destroyed all and yet my heart aches for her, oh how it aches. I do not know which pain is the worse my body or my mind.

the bitch

[edit]264

My God I am tired, I do not know if I can go on. Bunny and the children are all that matter. No regrets, no regrets. I shall not allow such thoughts to enter my head. Tonight I will take my shining knife and be rid of it. Throw it deep within the river. I shall return to Battlecrease with the knowledge that I can no longer continue my campaign. 'Tis love that spurned me so; 'tis love that shall put an end to it.

I am afraid to look back on all I have written. Perhaps it would be wiser to destroy this, but in my heart I cannot bring myself to do so. I have tried once before, but like the coward I am, I could not. Perhaps in my tormented mind I wish for someone to read this and understand that the man I have become was not the man I was born.

My dear brother Edwin has returned. I wish I could tell him all. No more funny little rhymes. Tonight I write of love.

tis love that spurned me so,
tis love that does destroy
tis love that I yearn for
tis love that she spurned
tis love that will finish me
tis love that I regret

May God help me. I pray each night he will take me, the disappointment when I awake is difficult to describe I no longer take the dreaded stuff for fear I will harm my dear Bunny, worse still the children.

I do not have the courage to take my life. I pray each night I will find the strength to do so, but the courage alludes me. I pray constantly all will forgive. I deeply regret striking her, I have found it in my heart to forgive her for her lovers.

I believe I will tell her all, ask her to forgive me as I have forgiven her. I pray to God she will understand what she has done to me. Tonight I will pray for the women I have slaughtered. May God forgive me for the deeds I commited on Kelly, no heart no heart.

The pain is unbearable. My dear Bunny knows all. I do not know if she has the strength to kill me. I pray to God she finds it. It would be simple, she knows of my medicine, and for an extra dose or two, it would be all over.^[2] No one will know, I have seen to that. George knows of my habit and I trust soon it will come to the attention of Michael. In truth I believe he is aware of the fact. Michael will know how to act he is the most sensible amongst us all I do not believe I will see this June, my favourite of all months. Have begged Bunny to act soon. I curse myself for the coward I am. I have redressed the balance of my previous will. Bunny and the children are well cared for and I trust Michael and Thomas will carry out my wishes. Soon, I trust I shall be laid beside my dear mother and father. I shall seek their forgiveness when we are reunited. God I pray will allow me at least that privilege, although I know only too well I do not deserve it. My thoughts will remain intact, for a reminder to all how love does destroy

I place this now in a place where it shall be found I pray whoever should read this will find it in their heart to forgive me. Remind all, whoever you may be, that I was once a gentle man. May the good lord have mercy on my soul, and forgive me for all I have done.

I give my name that all know of me, so history do tell, what love can do to a gentle man born.

Yours truly

Jack the Ripper

Dated the third of May 1889

 

Now i come to the end of the ripper diary i will add more as i find out more hope you enjoyed this information.

 "The Canonical Five"

 The Women below are the most agreed upon by all sources as being  the Likely Victims of the Ripper's unmerciful blade 

 

 

                                                                                                               Born Mary Ann Walker (Known Better as Polly Nichols)

  Born Mary Ann Walker on August 26, 1845 in Dawes Court, Shoe Lane, off Fleet Street. She was christened in or some years before 1851. At the time of her death the East London Observer guessed her age at 30-35. At the inquest her father said "she was nearly 44 years of age, but it must be owned that she looked ten years younger."

Features

5'2" tall; brown eyes; dark complexion; brown hair turning grey; five front teeth missing (Rumbelow); two bottom-one top front (Fido), her teeth are slightly discoloured. She is described as having small, delicate features with high cheekbones and grey eyes. She has a small scar on her forehead from a childhood injury.

She is described by Emily Holland as "a very clean woman who always seemed to keep to herself." The doctor at the post mortem remarked on the cleanliness of her thighs. She is also an alcoholic.

History

Father: Edward Walker (Blacksmith, formerly a locksmith). He has grey hair and beard and, as a smithy, was probably powerfully built. At the time of Polly's death he is living at 16 Maidswood Rd., Camberwell.

Mother: Caroline.

Polly married William Nichols on January 16, 1864. She would have been about 22 years old. The marriage is performed by Charles Marshall, Vicar of Saint Bride's Parish Church and witnessed by Seth George Havelly and Sarah Good.

William Nichols is in the employ of Messrs. Perkins, Bacon & Co., Whitefriars Rd. and living at Cogburg Rd. off Old Kent Road at the time of his wife's death.

The couple have five children. Edward John, born 1866; Percy George, 1868; Alice Esther, 1870; Eliza Sarah, 1877 and Henry Alfred born in 1879. The oldest, 21 in 1888, is living with his grandfather (Polly's father) at the time of her death. He had left home in 1880 according to his father, on his own accord. The other children continued to live with Nichols.

William and Polly briefly lodged in Bouverie Street then moved in with her father at 131 Trafalgar Street for about ten years. They spend six years, (no dates) at No. 6 D block, Peabody Buildings, Stamford Street, Blackfriars Rd. There they are paying a rent of 5 shillings, 6 pence per week. If Peabody Buildings is their last address then they would have lived there from 1875-1881, with her father from 1865 to 1875.

Polly separated from Nichols for the final time in 1881. It was the last of many separations during 24 years of marriage.

In 1882, William found out that his wife was living as a prostitute and discontinued support payments to her. (Sugden: she is living with another man, probably Thomas Dew). Parish authorities tried to collect maintenance money from him. He countered that she had deserted him leaving him with the children. He won his case after establishing that she was living as a common prostitute. At the time of her death, he had not seen his wife in three years.

Polly's father spread the story that the separation had come about due to William having an affair with the nurse who took care of Polly during her last confinement. William does not deny that he had an affair but states that it was not the cause of her leaving. "The woman left me four or five times, if not six." He claims that the affair took place after Polly left. There is obvious disharmony in the family as the eldest son would have nothing to do with his father at his mother's funeral.

After the separation, Polly begins a sad litany of moving from workhouse to workhouse.

4/24/82-1/18/83 -- Lambeth Workhouse

1/18/83-1/20/83 -- Lambeth Infirmary

1/20/83-3/24/83 -- Lambeth Workhouse

3/24/83-5/21/83 -- She is living with her father in Camberwell. He testifies at the inquest into her death that she was "a dissolute character and drunkard whom he knew would come to a bad end." He found her not a sober person but not in the habit of staying out late at night. Her drinking caused friction and they argued. He claims that he had not thrown her out but she left the next morning.

5/21/83-6/2/83 -- Lambeth Workhouse

6/2/83-10/26/87 -- She is said to have been living with a man named Thomas Dew, a blacksmith, with a shop in York Mews, 15 York St., Walworth. In June 1886 she had attended the funeral of her brother who had been burned to death by the explosion of a paraffin lamp. It was remarked by the family that she was respectably dressed.

10/25/87 -- She spends one day in St. Giles Workhouse, Endell Street.

10/26/87-12/2/87 -- Strand Workhouse, Edmonton

12/2/87-12/19/87 -- Lambeth Workhouse

On 12/2/87 It is said that she was caught "sleeping rough (in the open)" in Trafalgar Square. She was found to be destitute and with no means of sustenance and was sent on to Lambeth Workhouse.

12/19/87-12/29/87 -- Lambeth Workhouse

12/29/87-1/4/88 -- No record

1/4/88-4/16/88 -- Mitcham Workhouse, Holborn and Holborn Infirmary.

4/16/88-5/12/88 -- Lambeth Workhouse. It is in Lambeth Workhouse that she meets Mary Ann Monk who will eventually identify Polly's body for the police. Monk is described as a young woman with a "Haughty air and flushed face."

Polly has another friend in the Lambeth Workhouse, a Mrs. Scorer. She had been separated from her husband James Scorer, an assistant salesman in Spitalfields Market, for eleven years. He claimed that he knew Polly by sight but was unable to identify the body at the mortuary.

On 12 May she left Lambeth to take a position as a domestic servant in the home of Samuel and Sarah Cowdry. This was common practice at the time for Workhouses to find domestic employment for female inmates.

The Cowdry's live at "Ingleside", Rose Hill Rd, Wandsworth. Samuel (b. 1827)is the Clerk of Works in the Police Department. Sarah is one year younger than her husband. They are described as upright people. Both are religious and both are teetotalers.

Polly writes her father:

"I just right to say you will be glad to know that I am settled in my new place, and going all right up to now. My people went out yesterday and have not returned, so I am left in charge. It is a grand place inside, with trees and gardens back and front. All has been newly done up. They are teetotalers and religious so I ought to get on. They are very nice people, and I have not too much to do. I hope you are all right and the boy has work. So good bye for the present.

from yours truly,
Polly

Answer soon, please, and let me know how you are."

Walker replies to the letter but does not hear back.

She works for two months and then left while stealing clothing worth three pounds, ten shillings.

8/1/88-8/2/88 -- Grays Inn Temporary Workhouse

Last Addresses

Wilmott's Lodging House at 18 Thrawl Street, Spitalfields. There she shares a room with four women including Emily Holland. The room is described as being surprisingly neat. The price of the room is 4d per night.

On 8/24/88 Polly moves to a lodging house known as the White House at 56 Flower and Dean Street. In this doss-house men are allowed to share a bed with a woman.

Thursday, August 30 through Friday, August 31, 1888.

Heavy rains have ushered out one of the coldest and wettest summers on record. On the night of August 30, the rain was sharp and frequent and was accompanied by peals of thunder and flashes of lightning. the sky on that night was turned red by the occasion of two dock fires.

11:00 PM -- Polly is seen walking down Whitechapel Road, she is probably soliciting trade.

12:30 AM -- She is seen leaving the Frying Pan Public House at the corner of Brick Lane and Thrawl Street. She returns to the lodging house at 18 Thrawl Street.

1:20 or 1:40 AM -- She is told by the deputy to leave the kitchen of the lodging house because she could not produce her doss money. Polly, on leaving, asks him to save a bed for her. " Never Mind!" She says, "I'll soon get my doss money. See what a jolly bonnet I've got now." She indicates a little black bonnet which no one had seen before.

2:30 AM -- She meets Emily Holland, who was returning from watching the Shadwell Dry Dock fire, outside of a grocer's shop on the corner of Whitechapel Road and Osborn Street. Polly had come down Osborn Street. Holland describes her as "very drunk and staggered against the wall." Holland calls attention to the church clock striking 2:30. Polly tells Emily that she had had her doss money three times that day and had drunk it away. She says she will return to Flower and Dean Street where she could share a bed with a man after one more attempt to find trade. "I've had my doss money three times today and spent it." She says, "It won't be long before I'm back." The two women talk for seven or eight minutes. Polly leaves walking east down Whitechapel Road.At the time, the services of a destitute prostitute like Polly Nichols could be had for 2 or 3 pence or a stale loaf of bread. 3 pence was the going rate as that was the price of a large glass of gin.

3:15 AM -- PC John Thain, 96J, passes down Buck's Row on his beat. He sees nothing unusual. At approximately the same time Sgt. Kerby passes down Buck's Row and reports the same.

3:40 or 3:45 AM -- Polly Nichols' body is discovered in Buck's Row byCharles Cross, a carman, on his way to work at Pickfords in the City Road., and Robert Paul who joins him at his request. "Come and look over here, there's a woman." Cross calls to Paul. Cross believes she is dead. Her hands and face are cold but the arms above the elbow and legs are still warm. Paul believes he feels a faint heartbeat. "I think she's breathing," he says "but it is little if she is."

The two men agree that they do not want to be late for work and after arranging Nichols' skirts to give her some decency, decide to alert the first police officer they meet on their way. They eventually meet PC Jonas Mizen at the junction of Hanbury Street and Baker's Row and tell him of their find.

In the meantime, Nichols' body has been found by PC John Neil, 97J. He signals to PC Thain who then joins him and the two are soon joined by Mizen. Thain calls for Dr. Rees Ralph Llewellyn, who resides nearby. The two return a few minutes later (around 3:50 A.M.) and Dr. Llewellyn pronounces life to have been extinct "but a few minutes."

Buck's Row is ten minutes walk from Osborn Street. The only illumination is from a single gas lamp at the far end of the street.

Polly's body is found across from Essex Wharf and the Brown and Eagle Wool Warehouse and Schneiders Cap Factory in a gateway entrance to Brown's stableyard between a board school (to the west) and terrace houses (cottages) belonging to better class tradesmen. She is almost underneath the window of Mrs. Emma Green, a light sleeper, who lives in the first house next to the stable gates. Her house is called the 'New Cottage'. She is a widower with two sons and a daughter living with her. That night, one son goes to bed at 9:00 PM, the other follows at 9:45. Mrs. Green and her daughter shared a first floor room at the front of the house. They went to bed at approximately 11:00 PM. She claims she slept undisturbed by any unusual sound until she was awakened by the police.

Opposite New Cottage lives Walter Purkiss, the manager of Essex Wharf with his wife, children and a servant. He and his wife went to bed at 11:00 and 11:15 respectively. Both claimed to have been awake at various times in the night and heard nothing.

Polly Nichols' body is identified by Lambeth Workhouse inmate Mary Ann Monk and the identification confirmed by William Nichols.

An inventory of her clothes is taken by Inspector John Spratling at the mortuary. She was wearing: (overall impression -- shabby and stained)

• Black Straw bonnet trimmed with black velvet
• Reddish brown ulster with seven large brass buttons bearing the pattern of a woman on horseback accompanied by a man.
• Brown linsey frock (apparently new according to Sugden. Could this be a dress she stole from the Cowdrys?)
• White flannel chest cloth
• Black ribbed wool stockings
• Two petticoats, one gray wool, one flannel. Both stenciled on bands "Lambeth Workhouse"
• Brown stays (short)
• Flannel drawers
• Men's elastic (spring) sided boots with the uppers cut and steel tips on the heels

Possessions:

• Comb
• White pocket handkerchief
• Broken piece of mirror (a prized possession in a lodging house)

Observations of Dr. Rees Ralph Llewellyn upon arrival at Bucks row at 4:00 AM on the morning of August 31st. After only a brief examination of the body he pronounced Polly Nichols dead. He noted that there was a wine glass and a half of blood in the gutter at her side but claimed that he had no doubt that she had been killed where she lay.

Inquest testimony as reported in The Times:

"Five teeth were missing, and there was a slight laceration of the tongue. There was a bruise running along the lower part of the jaw on the right side of the face. That might have been caused by a blow from a fist or pressure from a thumb. There was a circular bruise on the left side of the face which also might have been inflicted by the pressure of the fingers. On the left side of the neck, about 1 in. below the jaw, there was an incision about 4 in. in length, and ran from a point immediately below the ear. On the same side, but an inch below, and commencing about 1 in. in front of it, was a circular incision, which terminated at a point about 3 in. below the right jaw. That incision completely severed all the tissues down to the vertebrae. The large vessels of the neck on both sides were severed. The incision was about 8 in. in length. the cuts must have been caused by a long-bladed knife, moderately sharp, and used with great violence. No blood was found on the breast, either of the body or the clothes. There were no injuries about the body until just about the lower part of the abdomen. Two or three inches from the left side was a wound running in a jagged manner. The wound was a very deep one, and the tissues were cut through. There were several incisions running across the abdomen. There were three or four similar cuts running downwards, on the right side, all of which had been caused by a knife which had been used violently and downwards. the injuries were form left to right and might have been done by a left handed person. All the injuries had been caused by the same instrument."

Inspector Joseph Helson, J-division, is notified of the murder at 6.45am and at the mortuary he is shown the body and the extent of the mutilations.

With all of her faults Nichols seems to have been well-liked by all who knew her. At the inquest her father says, "I don't think she had any enemies, she was too good for that."Funeral

Mary Ann "Polly" Nichols was buried on Thursday, 6 September, 1888.

That afternoon, Polly was transported in a polished elm coffin to Mr Henry Smith, Hanbury Street undertaker. The cortege consisted of the hearse and two mourning coaches, which carried Edward Walker, William Nichols, and Edward John Nichols. Polly was buried at City of London Cemetery (Little Ilford) at Manor Park Cemetery, Sebert Road, Forest Gate, London, E12, (public) grave 210752 (on the edge of the current Memorial Garden).

The funeral expenses were paid for by Edward Walker (Polly's father), William Nichols (Polly's ex-husband), and Edward John Nichols (Polly's son).

In late 1996, the cemetery authorities decided to mark Polly's grave with a plaque.

 

 

   

 

    

 

                                                                                  Annie Chapman (22 February 1842 – 8 September 1888), born Eliza Ann Smith  Born: Annie Eliza Smith in September 1841.

Father: George Smith of Harrow Road. Described on the marriage certificate as a Private, 2nd Battalion of Lifeguards. At the time of his death he was listed as a servant.

Mother: Ruth Chapman of Market Street.

Annie's parents were married on February 22, 1842, 6 months after Annie was born. The marriage took place in Paddington.

She had three sisters, Emily Latitia (b.1844), Georgina (b.1856) and Mirium Ruth (b.1858). A brother, Fountain Smith was born in 1861. The sisters appeared not to get along with Annie.

Description:

• 5' tall
• 47 years old at time of death
• Pallid complexion
• Blue eyes
• Dark brown wavy hair
• Excellent teeth (possibly two missing in lower jaw)
• Strongly built (stout)
• Thick nose
• She was under-nourished and suffering from a chronic disease of the lungs (tuberculosis) and brain tissue. It is said that she was dying (these could also be symptoms of syphilis).
• Although she has a drinking problem she is not described as an alcoholic.

Her friend Amelia Palmer described her as "sober, steady going woman who seldom took any drink." She was, however, known to have a taste for rumAnnie married John Chapman, a coachman, on May 1, 1869. She was 28 at the time of her marriage.

Their residence on the marriage certificate is listed as 29 Montpelier Place, Brompton. This is also where her mother lived until her (mother's) death in 1893. In 1870 they moved to 1 Brook Mews in Bayswater and then in 1873 to 17 South Bruton Mews, Berkeley Square. In 1881 they moved to Windsor where John took a job as a domestic coachman.

The couple had three children. Emily Ruth Chapman, born 1870,Annie Georgina Chapman, born 1873 and John Alfred Chapman, born in 1880. John was a cripple and sent to a home and Emily Ruth died of meningitis at the age of twelve.

Annie and John separated by mutual consent in 1884 or 1885. The reason is uncertain. A police report says it was because of her "drunken and immoral ways." She was arrested several times in Windsor for drunkenness and it is believed her husband was also a heavy drinker.

John Chapman semi-regularly paid his wife 10 shillings per week by Post Office order until his death on Christmas day in 1886. At the time of his death he was living at Grove Road, Windsor. He died of cirrhosis of the liver and dropsy. Annie found out about his death through her brother-in-law who lived in Oxford Street, Whitechapel. On telling Amelia Palmer about it she cried. Palmer said that even two years later she seemed downcast when speaking of her children and how "since the death of her husband she seemed to have given away all together."

Sometime during 1886 she was living with a sieve maker named John Sivvey (unknown whether this is a nickname or not) at the common lodging house at 30 Dorset Street, Spitalfields. He left her soon after her husband's death, probably when the money stopped coming. He moved to Notting Hill.

From May or June 1888, Annie was living consistently at Crossingham's Lodging House at 35 Dorset Street, Spitalfields, which catered for approximately 300 people. The deputy was Timothy Donovan.

More recently, Annie had been having a relationship with Edward Stanley, a bricklayer's mate, known as the Pensioner. At the time of Annie's death he was living at 1 Osborn Place, Whitechapel. He claimed to be a member of the military but later admitted that he was not and was not drawing a pension from any military unit.

Stanley and Annie spent weekends together at Crossingham's. Stanley instructed Donovan to turn Annie away if she tried to enter with another man. He often paid for Annie's bed as well as that of Eliza Cooper. They spent Saturdays and Sundays together, parting between 1:00 and 3:00 AM on Sundays. Stanley said that he had known Annie in Windsor.

Annie didn't take to prostitution until after her husband's death. Prior to that she lived off the allowance he sent her and worked doing crochet-work and selling flowers.

In mid to late August of 1888 she ran into her brother Fountain Smith on Commercial Road. She said she was hard up but would not tell him where she was living. He gave her 2 shillings.

Saturday, September 1, 1888

Edward Stanley returns after having been away since August 6. He meets Annie at the corner of Brushfield Street.

Sometime close to this date, Annie has a fight with Eliza Cooper. The fight has several different tellings but all revolve around Edward Stanley.

An argument breaks out in the Britannia Public House between Eliza Cooper and Annie. Also present are Stanley and Harry the Hawker. Cooper is Annie's rival for the affections of Stanley. Cooper struck her, giving her a black eye and bruising her breast.

The cause is alternately given as:

Chapman noticed Cooper palming a florin belonging to Harry, who was drunk, and replacing it with a penny. Chapman mentions this to Harry and otherwise calls attention to Cooper's deceit. Cooper says she struck Annie in the pub on September 2nd.

Amelia Palmer says that Annie told her the argument took place at the pub but the fisticuffs took place at the lodging house, later.

John Evans, night watchman at the lodging house says the fight broke out in the lodging house on September 6th. Cooper also says that the fight was not over Harry but over soap which Annie had borrowed for the Pensioner and not returned. In one version of the story, Annie is to have thrown a half penny at Cooper and slapped her in the face saying "Think yourself lucky I did not do more."

Donovan states that on August 30th he noticed she had a black eye. "Tim, this is lovely, aint it." She is to have said to him. Stanley noticed that she had a black eye on the evening of September 2nd and on the 3rd Annie showed her bruises to Amelia Palmer.

Donovan will tell the inquest into her death that she was not at the lodging house during the week prior to her death. So it appears from the bulk of the evidence that the fight took place in the last few days of August and probably in the lodging house.

Chapman says that she may have to go to the infirmary but there is no record of any woman being admitted to either Whitechapel or Spitalfields workhouse infirmaries. She may have picked up medication though.

Monday, September 3:

She meets Amelia Palmer in Dorset Street. "How did you get that?" asks Palmer, noticing the bruise on her right temple. By way of answer, Annie opened her dress. "Yes," Annie said "look at my chest." Annie complains of feeling unwell and says she may go see her sister. "If I can get a pair of boots from my sister," she says "I may go hop picking."

Tuesday, September 4:

Amelia Palmer again sees Annie near Christ Church. Chapman again complains she is feeling ill and says she may go the casual ward for a day or two. She says she has had nothing to eat or drink all day. Palmer gives her 2d for tea and warns her not to spend it on rum.

Wednesday-Thursday, September 5-6:

Possibly she is in the casual ward although there are no records to support the assumption. However, following her death, Donovan finds a bottle of medicine in her room.

Friday, September 7, Saturday, September 8th:

5:00 PM: Amelia Palmer again sees Annie in Dorset Street. Chapman is sober and Palmer asks her if she is going to Stratford (believed to be the territory where Annie plied her trade). Annie says she is too ill to do anything. Farmer left but returned a few minutes later only to find Chapman not having moved. It's no use my giving way," Annie says "I must pull myself together and go out and get some money or I shall have no lodgings."

11:30 PM: Annie returns to the lodging house and asks permission to go into the kitchen.

12:10 AM: Frederick Stevens, also a lodger at Crossingham's says he drank a pint of beer with Annie who was already slightly the worse for drink. He states that she did not leave the lodging house until 1:00 AM.

12:12 AM: William Stevens (a printer), another lodger, enters the kitchen and sees Chapman. She says that she has been to Vauxhall to see her sister, that she went to get some money and that her family had given her 5 pence. (If this is so, she spent it on drink.) Stevens sees her take a broken box of pills from her pocket. The box breaks and she takes a torn piece of envelope from the mantelpiece and places the pills in it. Chapman leaves the kitchen. Stevens thinks she has gone to bed.

It appears obvious that she did pick up medication at the casual ward. The lotion found in her room may have brought up there at this time. This would re-enforce Stevens' impression that she had gone to bed. She certainly shows every sign of intending to return to Crossingham's.

1:35 AM: Annie returns to the lodging house again. She is eating a baked potato. John Evans, the night watchman, has been sent to collect her bed money. She goes upstairs to see Donovan in his office. "I haven't sufficient money for my bed," she tells him, "but don't let it. I shall not be long before I'm in." Donovan chastises her, "You can find money for your beer and you can't find money for your bed." Annie is not dismayed. She steps out of the office and stands in the doorway for two or three minutes. "Never mind, Tim." she states, "I'll soon be back." And to Evans she says, "I won't be long, Brummy (his nickname). See that Tim keeps the bed for me." Her regular bed in the lodging house is number 29. Evans sees her leave and enter Little Paternoster Row going in the direction ofBrushfield Street and then turn towards Spitalfields Market.

4:45 AM: Mr. John Richardson enters the backyard of 29 Hanbury St. on his way to work, and sits down on the steps to remove a piece of leather which was protruding from his boot. Although it was quite dark at the time, he was sitting no more than a yard away from where the head of Annie Chapman would have been had she already been killed. He later testified to have seen nothing of extraordinary nature.

5:30 AM: Elizabeth Long sees Chapman with a man, hard against the shutters of 29 Hanbury Street. they are talking. Long hears the man say "Will you?" and Annie replies "Yes." Long is certain of the time as she had heard the clock on the Black Eagle Brewery, Brick Lane, strike the half hour just as she had turned onto the street. The woman (Chapman) had her back towards Spitalfields Market and, thus, her face towards Long. The man had his back towards Long.

A few moments after the Long sighting, Albert Cadosch, a young carpenter living at 27 Hanbury Street walks into his back yard probably to use the outhouse. Passing the five foot tall wooden fence which separates his yard from that of number 29, he hears voices quite close. The only word he can make out is a woman saying "No!" He then heard something falling against the fence.Annie's body was discovered a little before 6.00am by John Davis, a carman who lived on the third floor of No.29 with his family. After alerting James Green, James Kent and Henry Holland in Hanbury Street, Davis went to Commercial Street Police Station before returning to No.29.

Annie's Clothes and Possessions:

• Long black figured coat that came down to her knees.
• Black skirt
• Brown bodice
• Another bodice
• 2 petticoats
• A large pocket worn under the skirt and tied about the waist with strings (empty when found)
• Lace up boots
• Red and white striped woolen stockings
• Neckerchief, white with a wide red border (folded tri-corner and knotted at the front of her neck. she is wearing the scarf in this manner when she leaves Crossingham's)
• Had three recently acquired brass rings on her middle finger (missing after the murder)
• Scrap of muslin
• One small tooth comb
• One comb in a paper case
• Scrap of envelope she had taken form the mantelpiece of the kitchen containing two pills. It bears the seal of the Sussex Regiment. It is postal stamped "London, 28,Aug., 1888" inscribed is a partial address consisting of the letter M, the number 2 as if the beginning of an address and an S.

Dr. George Bagster Phillips describes the body of Annie Chapman as he saw it at 6:30 AM in the back yard of the house at 29 Hanbury Street. This is inquest testimony.

"The left arm was placed across the left breast. The legs were drawn up, the feet resting on the ground, and the knees turned outwards. The face was swollen and turned on the right side. The tongue protruded between the front teeth, but not beyond the lips. The tongue was evidently much swollen. The front teeth were perfect as far as the first molar, top and bottom and very fine teeth they were. The body was terribly mutilated...the stiffness of the limbs was not marked, but was evidently commencing. He noticed that the throat was dissevered deeply.; that the incision through the skin were jagged and reached right round the neck...On the wooden paling between the yard in question and the next, smears of blood, corresponding to where the head of the deceased lay, were to be seen. These were about 14 inches from the ground, and immediately above the part where the blood from the neck lay.

He should say that the instrument used at the throat and abdomen was the same. It must have been a very sharp knife with a thin narrow blade, and must have been at least 6 in. to 8 in. in length, probably longer. He should say that the injuries could not have been inflicted by a bayonet or a sword bayonet. They could have been done by such an instrument as a medical man used for post-mortem purposes, but the ordinary surgical cases might not contain such an instrument. Those used by the slaughtermen, well ground down, might have caused them. He thought the knives used by those in the leather trade would not be long enough in the blade. There were indications of anatomical knowledge...he should say that the deceased had been dead at least two hours, and probably more, when he first saw her; but it was right to mention that it was a fairly cool morning, and that the body would be more apt to cool rapidly from its having lost a great quantity of blood. There was no evidence...of a struggle having taken place. He was positive the deceased entered the yard alive...

A handkerchief was round the throat of the deceased when he saw it early in the morning. He should say it was not tied on after the throat was cut."

Report following the post mortem examination:

"He noticed the same protrusion of the tongue. There was a bruise over the right temple. On the upper eyelid there was a bruise, and there were two distinct bruises, each the size of a man's thumb, on the forepart of the top of the chest. The stiffness of the limbs was now well marked. There was a bruise over the middle part of the bone of the right hand. There was an old scar on the left of the frontal bone. The stiffness was more noticeable on the left side, especially in the fingers, which were partly closed. There was an abrasion over the ring finger, with distinct markings of a ring or rings. The throat had been severed as before described. the incisions into the skin indicated that they had been made from the left side of the neck. There were two distinct clean cuts on the left side of the spine. They were parallel with each other and separated by about half an inch. The muscular structures appeared as though an attempt had made to separate the bones of the neck. There were various other mutilations to the body, but he was of the opinion that they occurred subsequent to the death of the woman, and to the large escape of blood from the division of the neck.

The deceased was far advanced in disease of the lungs and membranes of the brain, but they had nothing to do with the cause of death. The stomach contained little food, but there was not any sign of fluid. There was no appearance of the deceased having taken alcohol, but there were signs of great deprivation and he should say she had been badly fed. He was convinced she had not taken any strong alcohol for some hours before her death. The injuries were certainly not self-inflicted. The bruises on the face were evidently recent, especially about the chin and side of the jaw, but the bruises in front of the chest and temple were of longer standing - probably of days. He was of the opinion that the person who cut the deceased throat took hold of her by the chin, and then commenced the incision from left to right. He thought it was highly probable that a person could call out, but with regard to an idea that she might have been gagged he could only point to the swollen face and the protruding tongue, both of which were signs of suffocation.

The abdomen had been entirely laid open: the intestines, severed from their mesenteric attachments, had been lifted out of the body and placed on the shoulder of the corpse; whilst from the pelvis, the uterus and its appendages with the upper portion of the vagina and the posterior two thirds of the bladder, had been entirely removed. No trace of these parts could be found and the incisions were cleanly cut, avoiding the rectum, and dividing the vagina low enough to avoid injury to the cervix uteri. Obviously the work was that of an expert- of one, at least, who had such knowledge of anatomical or pathological examinations as to be enabled to secure the pelvic organs with one sweep of the knife, which must therefore must have at least 5 or 6 inches in length, probably more. The appearance of the cuts confirmed him in the opinion that the instrument, like the one which divided the neck, had been of a very sharp character. The mode in which the knife had been used seemed to indicate great anatomical knowledge.

He thought he himself could not have performed all the injuries he described, even without a struggle, under a quarter of an hour. If he had down it in a deliberate way such as would fall to the duties of a surgeon it probably would have taken him the best part of an hour."

Funeral

Annie Chapman was buried on Friday, 14 September, 1888.

At 7:00am, a hearse, supplied by a Hanbury Street Undertaker, H. Smith, went to the Whitechapel Mortuary. Annie's body was placed in a black-draped elm coffin and was then driven to Harry Hawes, a Spitalfields Undertaker who arranged the funeral, at 19 Hunt Street.

At 9:00am, the hearse (without mourning coaches) took Annie's body to City of London Cemetery (Little Ilford) at Manor Park Cemetery, Sebert Road, Forest Gate, London, E12, where she was buried at (public) grave 78, square 148.

Annie's relatives, who paid for for the funeral, met the hearse at the cemetery, and, by request, kept the funeral a secret and were the only ones to attend.The funeral of Annie Chapman took place early yesterday morning [14 Sep], the utmost secrecy having been observed, and none but the undertaker, police, and relatives of the deceased knew anything about the arrangements. Shortly after seven o'clock a hearse drew up outside the mortuary in Montague-street, and the body was quickly removed. At nine o'clock a start was made for Manor Park Cemetery. No coaches followed, as it was desired that public attention should not be attracted. Mr. Smith and other relatives met the body at the cemetery. The black-covered elm coffin bore the words "Annie Chapman, died Sept. 8, 1888, aged 48 years." (The Daily Telegraph, September 15 1888, page 3)

Chapman's grave no longer exists; it has since been buried over.

Sources: Casebook files. 

 

 

                                                                                                                                 Elizabeth Stride was born Elisabeth Gustafsdotter on November 27, 1843 on a farm called Stora Tumlehed in Torslanda parish, north of Gothenburg, Sweden. She was baptized on December 5 of that year and confirmed in a church in Torslanda.

At the time of her death she was 45 years old. She had a pale complexion, light gray eyes and had curly dark brown hair. All the teeth in her lower left jaw were missing and she stood five foot five inches tall.

On a Certificate of Change notice filed in Sweden at the time that Liz moved to London it is stated that she could read tolerably well but had little understanding of the Bible or catechism.

Lodgers described her as a quiet woman who would do a "good turn for anyone." However she had frequently appeared before the Thames Magistrate Court on charges of being drunk and disorderly, sometimes with obscene language.

She made money by sewing and charring, received money from Michael Kidney and was an occasional prostitute.

History:

Her father was Gustaf Ericsson and her mother Beatta Carlsdotter. On October 14, 1860 she moved to the parish of Carl Johan in Gothenburg. While there she worked as a domestic for Lars Frederick Olofsson, a workman with 4 children.

February 2nd of 1862 finds her moving to Cathedral parish in Gothenburg.

In March 1865 she is registered by police as a prostitute and on April 21 of that year she gives birth to a stillborn baby girl.

According to the official ledger wherein she is entry number 97, she is living in Philgaten in Ostra Haga, a suburb of Gothenburg in October 1865.

During October and November she is treated at the special hospital Kurhuset for venereal disease. The October 17 entry states that she is treated for a venereal chancre. She is reported as healthy in the November 3, 7, 10, 14 entries and after the last entry she is told she will no longer have to report to the police.

On February 7th of 1866 she applies to move to the Swedish parish in London, England. She enters the London register as an unmarried woman on July 10, 1866.

According to testimony by Charles Preston, who lived at the same lodging house, she came to London in the service of a "foreign gentleman."

Michael Kidney, with whom she lived on and off prior to her death, says she told him that she worked for a family in Hyde Park and that she "came to see the country." He also believes that she had family in London.

July 10, 1886 -- she is registered as an unmarried woman at the Swedish Church in Prince's Square, St. George in the East.

On March 7, 1869 she marries John Stride at the parish church, St. Giles in the Fields. The Service is conducted by Rev. Will Powell and witnessed by Daniel H. Wyatt and N. Taylor. Stride gives her address as 67 Gower Street.

Soon after the marriage John and Liz are living in East India Dock road in Poplar. They keep a coffee shop at Chrisp Street, Poplar and in 1870 in Upper North Street, Poplar. They move themselves and the business to 178 Poplar High Street and remain there until the business is taken over by John Dale in 1875.

In 1878 the Princess Alice, a saloon steam ship collides with the steamer Bywell Castle in the Thames. There is a loss of 600-700 lives. Liz will claim that her husband and children were killed in this disaster and that her palate was injured by being kicked in the mouth while climbing the mast to escape. No corroborative evidence exists for this statement and we know that her husband actually died in 1884. The post mortem report on her specifically states that there was no damage to either her hard or soft palate. This story may have been told by her to elicit sympathy when asking for financial aid from the Swedish Church.

On December 28, 1881 through January 4, 1882 she is treated at the Whitechapel Infirmary for bronchitis. From the Infirmary she moves directly into the Whitechapel Workhouse.

From 1882 onwards she lodges on and off at the common lodging house at 32 Flower and Dean Street. As her husband is still alive at this time it is reasonable to assume that the marriage has irrevocably fallen apart.

On October 24, 1884, John Stride dies of heart disease.

In 1885 she is living with Michael Kidney. They live together for three years although she often leaves him for periods of time to go off on the town.

Michael Kidney is a waterside laborer. He is born in 1852 and is 7 years younger than Liz. they live at 35 Devonshire Street, moving to 36 Devonshire Street five months prior to her murder. At the time of the murder Kidney is living at 33 Dorset Street.

Their relationship is best described as stormy. He says that she was frequently absent when she was drinking and he even tried, unsuccessfully, to padlock her in (see list of possession at time of death).

On May 20 and again on the 23rd of 1886 She receives alms from the Swedish Church. Sven Olsson, Clerk of the Church remembers her as "very poor." She gives her address as Devonshire Street off Commercial Road.

On March 21, 1887 she is registered as an inmate at the Poplar Workhouse.

In April of 1887 she charges Kidney with assault but then fails to appear at Thames Magistrate Court.

In July of 1888 Kidney is sent down for three days charges with being drunk and disorderly and using obscene language.

On September 15 and 20 of 1888 she again receives financial assistance from the Swedish Church.

Charles Preston, a barber, had lived at 32 Flower and Dean Street for 18 months says that Liz Stride had been arrested one Saturday night for being drunk and disorderly at the Queen's Head Public House on Commercial Street. She was released on bail the following day. During the 20 months prior to her death she appeared 8 times before the Magistrate on similar charges.

On Tuesday, September 25, 1888, Michael Kidney sees her for the last time. He expects her to be home when he arrives from work but she is not. Kidney is unconcerned as she has done this often. "It was drink that made her go away," he said. "She always returned without me going after her. I think she liked me better than any other man."

Wednesday, September 26 finds her at the lodging house at 32 Flower and Dean Street. She had not been there in the last three months. She tells Catherine Lane that she had words with the man she was living with. Her being at the lodging house is confirmed by none other than Dr. Thomas Barnardo, a doctor who had taken to street preaching and then opened a famous home for destitute boys.

Dr. Barnardo had visited the lodging house to get opinions on his scheme 'by which children at all events could be saved at least from the contamination of the common lodging houses and the street.' On entering the kitchen at 32 Flower and Dean he found the women and girls there "...thoroughly frightened." They were discussing the murders. One woman, probably drunk cried bitterly "We're all up to no good, no one cares what becomes of us! Perhaps some of us will be killed next!"

On viewing the body, Barnardo will recognize Liz instantly as one of the women in the kitchen.

Thursday-Friday, September 27-28. Liz continues to lodge at 32 Flower and Dean Street. According to Elizabeth Tanner, the lodging house deputy, she arrived at the house after a quarrel with Kidney. Kidney will deny this.

Saturday-Sunday, September 29-30, 1888. The weather this evening is showery and windy. Elizabeth spends the afternoon cleaning two rooms at the lodging house. For her services she is paid 6d by Elizabeth Tanner.

September 30th, 1888

6:30 PM: Tanner sees her again at the Queen's Head Public House. They drank together and then walked back to the lodging house.

7:00-8:00 PM: She is seen leaving the lodging house by Charles Preston and Catherine Lane. She gives Lane a large piece of green velvet and asks her to hold it for her until she returns. She ask Preston to borrow his clothes brush but he has mislaid it. She then leaves passing by Thomas Bates, watchman at the lodging house who says she looked quite cheerful. Lane will later state that "I know the deceased had 6d when she left, she showed it to me, stating that the deputy had given it to her."

11:00 PM: Two laborers, J. Best and John Gardner were going into the Bricklayer's Arms Public House on Settles street, north ofCommercial Road and almost opposite Berner Street. As they went in Stride was leaving with a short man with a dark mustache and sandy eyelashes. The man was wearing a billycock hat, mourning suit and coat. Best says "They had been served in the public house and went out when me and my friends came in. It was raining very fast and they did not appear willing to go out. He was hugging and kissing her, and as he seemed a respectably dressed man, we were rather astonished at the way he was going on at the woman." Stride and her man stood in the doorway for some time hugging and kissing. The workmen tried to get the man to come in for a drink but he refused. They then called to Stride. "That's Leather Apron getting 'round you." The man and Stride moved off towards Commercial Road and Berner Street. "He and the woman went off like a shot soon after eleven."

11:45 PM: William Marshall, a laborer, sees her on Berner Street. He is standing in the doorway of 64 Berner Street on the west side of the street between Fairclough and Boyd Streets. He notices her talking to a man in a short black cutaway coat and sailor's hat outside number 63. They are kissing and carrying on. He hears the man say "You would say anything but your prayers."

12:00 AM: Matthew Packer claims to sell Stride and a man grapes. This is a very dubious piece of evidence. See Sugden's The Complete History of Jack the Ripper for the pros and cons of this story.

12:35 AM: Police Constable William Smith sees Stride with a young man on Berner Street opposite the International Working Men's Educational Club. The man is described as 28 years old, dark coat and hard deerstalker hat. He is carrying a parcel approximately 6 inches high and 18 inches in length. the package is wrapped in newspaper.

12:45 AM (approximately): Quoting Home Office File:

"Israel Schwartz of 22 Helen Street, Backchurch Lane, stated that at this hour, turning into Berner Street from Commercial Road, and having gotten as far as the gateway where the murder was committed, he saw a man stop and speak to a woman, who was standing in the gateway. He tried to pull the woman into the street, but he turned her round and threw her down on the footway and the woman screamed three times, but not very loudly. On crossing to the opposite side of the street, he saw a second man lighting his pipe. The man who threw the woman down called out, apparently to the man on the opposite side of the road, "Lipski", and then Schwartz walked away, but finding that he was followed by the second man, he ran as far as the railway arch, but the man did not follow so far.

Schwartz cannot say whether the two men were together or known to each other. Upon being taken to the mortuary Schwartz identified the body as that of the woman he had seen."    Later in the deposition:

"It will be observed that allowing for differences of opinion between PC Smith and Schwartz as to the apparent age and height of the man each saw with the woman whose body they both identified, there are serious differences in the description of the dress...so at least it is rendered doubtful that they are describing the same man.

If Schwartz is to be believed, and the police report of his statement casts no doubt upon it, it follows that if they are describing different men that the man Schwartz saw is the more probable of the two to be the murderer..."

Schwartz describes the man as about 30 years old, 5' 5" tall with a fresh complexion, dark hair and small brown mustache. He is dressed in an overcoat and an old black felt hat with a wide brim.

At the same time, James Brown says he sees Stride with a man as he was going home with his supper down Fairclough Street. She was leaning against the wall talking to a stoutish man about 5' 7" tall in a long black coat that reached to his heels. He has his arm against the wall. Stride is saying "No, not tonight, some other night."

1:00 AM: Louis Diemschutz, a salesman of jewelry, entered Dutfield's Yard driving his cart and pony. Immediately at the entrace, his pony shied and refused to proceed -- Diemschutz suspected something was in the way but could not see since the yard was utterly pitch black. He probed forward with his whip and came into contact with a body, whom he initially believed to be either drunk or asleep.

He entered the International Working Men's Educational Club to get some help in rousing the woman, and upon returning to the yard with Isaac Kozebrodsky and Morris Eagle, the three discover that she was dead, her throat cut.

It was believed that Diemschutz's arrival frightened the Ripper, causing him to flee before he performed the mutilations. Diemschutz himself stated that he believed the Ripper was still in the yard when he had entered, due to the warm temperature of the body and the continuingly odd behavior of his pony.

Dr. Frederick Blackwell of 100 Commercial Road was called; he arrived at 1.16am and pronounced Stride dead at the scene.

International Worker's Educational Club:

A two story wooden building, barn like. The club was spacious with a capacity of over two hundred people and contained a stage. Here amateurs performed, mostly in the Russian language, plays by well-known Russian revolutionists. On Saturday and Sunday evenings there would be an international gathering of Russian, Jewish, British, French, Italian, Czech, and Polish radicals. Members thought of the club as the "cradle of Liberty' for the worker's manumission.At the time of her death Elizabeth Stride was wearing:

• Long black cloth jacket, fur trimmed around the bottom with a red rose and white maiden hair fern pinned to it. (She was not wearing the flowers when she left the lodging house.)
• Black skirt
• Black crepe bonnet
• Checked neck scarf knotted on left side
• Dark brown velveteen bodice
• 2 light serge petticoats
• 1 white chemise
• White stockings
• Spring sided boots
• 2 handkerchiefs (one, the larger, is noticed at the post-mortem to have fruit stains on it.)
• A thimble
• A piece of wool wound around a card

In the pocket in her underskirt:

• A key (as of a padlock)
• A small piece of lead pencil
• Six large and one small button
• A comb
• A broken piece of comb
• A metal spoon
• A hook (as from a dress)
• A piece of muslin
• One or two small pieces of paper

She is found clutching a packet of Cachous in her hand. Cachous is a pill used by smokers to sweeten their breath.

Post-mortem

Dr. George Bagster Phillips (who also handled the Chapman and Kelly murders) performed the post mortem on Stride. He was also present at the scene and, after examining the body, asserts the deceased had not eaten any grapes. His report is as follows:

"The body was lying on the near side, with the face turned toward the wall, the head up the yard and the feet toward the street. The left arm was extended and there was a packet of cachous in the left hand.

The right arm was over the belly, the back of the hand and wrist had on it clotted blood. The legs were drawn up with the feet close to the wall. The body and face were warm and the hand cold. The legs were quite warm.

Deceased had a silk handkerchief round her neck, and it appeared to be slightly torn. I have since ascertained it was cut. This corresponded with the right angle of the jaw. The throat was deeply gashed and there was an abrasion of the skin about one and a half inches in diameter, apparently stained with blood, under her right arm.

At three o'clock p.m. on Monday at St. George's Mortuary, Dr. Blackwell and I made a post mortem examination. Rigor mortis was still thoroughly marked. There was mud on the left side of the face and it was matted in the head.;

The Body was fairly nourished. Over both shoulders, especially the right, and under the collarbone and in front of the chest there was a bluish discoloration, which I have watched and have seen on two occasions since. There was a clear-cut incision on the neck. It was six inches in length and commenced two and a half inches in a straight line below the angle of the jaw, one half inch in over an undivided muscle, and then becoming deeper, dividing the sheath. The cut was very clean and deviated a little downwards. The arteries and other vessels contained in the sheath were all cut through.

The cut through the tissues on the right side was more superficial, and tailed off to about two inches below the right angle of the jaw. The deep vessels on that side were uninjured. From this is was evident that the hemorrhage was caused through the partial severance of the left carotid artery.

Decomposition had commenced in the skin. Dark brown spots were on the anterior surface of the left chin. There was a deformity in the bones of the right leg, which was not straight, but bowed forwards. There was no recent external injury save to the neck.

The body being washed more thoroughly I could see some healing sores. The lobe of the left ear was torn as if from the removal or wearing through of an earring, but it was thoroughly healed. On removing the scalp there was no sign of extravasation of blood.

The heart was small, the left ventricle firmly contracted, and the right slightly so. There was no clot in the pulmonary artery, but the right ventricle was full of dark clot. The left was firmly contracted as to be absolutely empty.

The stomach was large and the mucous membrane only congested. It contained partly digested food, apparently consisting of cheese, potato, and farinaceous powder. All the teeth on the lower left jaw were absent."

The day after the murder, a citizen mob formed outside of Berner Street protesting the continuation of the murders and the seemingly slipshod work of the police to catch the Ripper. From here on in, the Ripper is public enemy number one, and Home Office begins to consider offering awards for his capture and arrest.

Funeral

Elizabeth stride was buried on Saturday, 6 October, 1888.

Elizabeth was buried at East London Cemetery Co. Ltd., Plaistow, London, E13. Grave 15509, square 37. The sparse Funeral was paid at the expense of the parish by undertaker, Mr Hawkes.

Sources: Casebook files.            

    

 

 

                                                                                                              Catherine Eddowes is born on April 14, 1842 in Graisley  Green,Wolverhampton. Catherine Eddowes a.k.a. Kate Kelly

Catherine Eddowes is born on April 14, 1842 in Graisley Green, Wolverhampton. At the time of her death she is 5 feet tall, has hazel eyes and dark auburn hair. She has a tattoo in blue ink on her left forearm "TC."

At the time of her death, Catherine Eddowes is suffering from Bright's Disease, a form of Uremia. Friends spoke of Catherine as an intelligent, scholarly woman but one who was possessed of a fierce temper.

Wearing at the time of her murder:

• Black straw bonnet trimmed in green and black velvet with black beads. Black strings, worn tied to the head.
• Black cloth jacket trimmed around the collar and cuffs with imitation fur and around the pockets in black silk braid and fur. Large metal buttons.
• Dark green chintz skirt, 3 flounces, brown button on waistband. The skirt is patterned with Michaelmas daisies and golden lilies.
• Man's white vest, matching buttons down front.
• Brown linsey bodice, black velvet collar with brown buttons down front
• Grey stuff petticoat with white waistband
• Very old green alpaca skirt (worn as undergarment)
• Very old ragged blue skirt with red flounces, light twill lining (worn as undergarment)
• White calico chemise
• No drawers or stays
• Pair of men's lace up boots, mohair laces. Right boot repaired with red thread
• 1 piece of red gauze silk worn as a neckerchief
• 1 large white pocket handkerchief
• 1 large white cotton handkerchief with red and white bird's eye border
• 2 unbleached calico pockets, tape strings
• 1 blue stripe bed ticking pocket
• Brown ribbed knee stockings, darned at the feet with white cotton

Possessions

• 2 small blue bags made of bed ticking
• 2 short black clay pipes
• 1 tin box containing tea
• 1 tin box containing sugar
• 1 tin matchbox, empty
• 12 pieces white rag, some slightly bloodstained
• 1 piece coarse linen, white
• 1 piece of blue and white shirting, 3 cornered
• 1 piece red flannel with pins and needles
• 6 pieces soap
• 1 small tooth comb
• 1 white handle table knife
• 1 metal teaspoon
• 1 red leather cigarette case with white metal fittings
• 1 ball hemp
• 1 piece of old white apron with repair
• Several buttons and a thimble
• Mustard tin containing two pawn tickets, One in the name of Emily Birrell, 52 White's Row, dated August 31, 9d for a man's flannel shirt. The other is in the name of Jane Kelly of 6 Dorset Street and dated September 28, 2S for a pair of men's boots. Both addresses are false.
• Printed handbill and according to a press report- a printed card for 'Frank Carter,305,Bethnal Green Road

• Portion of a pair of spectacles
• 1 red mitten

·         History:

·         Her father was George Eddowes, a tin plate worker working or apprenticed at the Old Hall Works in Wolverhampton. Her mother is Catherine (nee Evans). She has two sisters, Elizabeth Fisher and Eliza Gold (their married names). She also has an uncle named William Eddowes.

·         One contemporary newspaper report gives her history as follows:

·         "Her father and his brother William left their jobs as tinplate workers in Wolverhampton during the tinmen's strike, about 1848. They and their families walked to London. In London they eventually found employment. George and his family stayed, while William took his family back to Wolverhampton and resumed work at Old Hall Works. In the early 1860s Catherine returned to Wolverhampton to visit her family. Her relatives recalled the visit and described her "as very good looking and jolly sort of girl."

·         Catherine is educated at St. John's Charity School, Potter's Field, Tooley Street until her mother dies in 1855, when most of her siblings entered Bermondsey Workhouse and Industrial School.

·         Her education continues when she returns to the care of her aunt in Bison Street, Wolverhampton. She attends Dowgate Charity School. By 1861-1863 she leaves home with Thomas Conway.

·         The Wolverhampton paper summarizes her history somewhat differently:

·         George Eddowes completes his apprenticeship at Old Hall Works and marries Catherine Evans, a cook at the local hostelry. The two go to London in search of their fortunes. While there, George fathers 12 children. His wife, Catherine, dies in 1851 and George a few months later. Catherine is returned to Wolverhampton into the care of an aunt who lived in Bison Street. This may be the aunt who, according to an article in the January 1995 Black Country Bugle, made a gift of a miniature portrait to Catherine which became the basis for the portrait which appears in the Penny Illustrated Paper at the time of her death.

·         At the age of 21, Catherine is still living with her aunt but becomes involved with Thomas Conway, a pensioner from the 18th Royal Irish (though he was not old). Conway enlisted and drew his pension under the name Thomas Quinn. The couple went to Birmingham and other towns making a living selling cheap books of lives written by the pensioner. Again, according to the article in the January 1995 Black Country Bugle, they also specialized in the production of gallows ballads. On one occasion she hawked such a ballad at the execution of her cousin, Christopher Robinson, hanged at Strafford in January 1866.

·         In the course of their travels they returned to Wolverhampton where Catherine gave birth to a child. They return to London but Kate tries to return to her aunt's house after "running away from the pensioner." Her aunt refused her admittance and Kate took refuge in a lodging house on Bison Street.

·         There is no evidence to suggest that she and Conway were ever married. As a couple they had three children. Annie, born 1865 (later Annie Phillips), George, born around 1868 and another son born around 1873.

·        
Conway and Eddowes split in 1881 with Kate taking Annie and Conway the boy.

·         In 1881 Catherine moved to Cooney's Lodging House, 55 Flower and Dean Street and met John Kelly. Kelly jobbed around the markets but had been more or less regularly employed by a fruit salesman named Lander. Somewhere in this period Catherine's daughter Annie marries Louis Phillips and begins to move around Bermondsey and Southwark to avoid her mother's scrounging.

·         Frederick Wilkinson, deputy at Cooney's, says Catherine "was not often in drink and was a very jolly woman, often singing." She was generally in the lodging house for the night between 9 and 10 PM. He says she wasn't in the habit of walking the streets and he had never heard of or seen her being intimate with anyone other than Kelly. Kelly himself claimed no knowledge of her ever walking the streets. He says that she sometimes drank to excess but wasn't in the habit. Another sister, Eliza Gold, said that Catherine was of sober habits.

·         Every year, during the season, Kelly and Eddowes went hop picking. In 1888 they went to Hunton near Maidstone in Kent. "We didn't get along too well and started to hoof it home," Kelly says, "We came along in company with another man and woman who had worked in the same fields, but who parted from us to go to Cheltenham when we turned off towards London. The woman, more than likely Emily Birrell, said to Kate, 'I've got a pawn ticket for a flannel shirt. I wish you'd take it since you're going up to town. It is only for 2d, and it may fit your old man.' Kate took it and we trudged along... We did not have money enough to keep us going till we got to town, but we did get there, and came straight to this house (55 Flower and Dean Street). Luck was dead against us... we were both done up for cash."

·         They reached London on Friday, September 28. John managed to earn 6d. Kate took 2d and told Kelly to take the 4d and get a bed at Cooney's. She said she would get a bed at the casual ward in Shoe Lane.

·         The superintendent of the casual ward said that Kate was well known there, but that this was the first time she had been there for a long time. Eddowes explained that she had been hopping in the country but "I have come back to earn the reward offered for the apprehension of the Whitechapel murderer. I think I know him." The superintendent warned her to be careful he didn't murder her. "Oh, no fear of that." she replied. (There is no corroborative evidence for this story and it should be treated with a great deal of scepticism.)

·         Saturday and Sunday, September 29-30:

·         At 8:00 AM on September 29 she returns to Cooney's Lodging House and sees Kelly. She has been turned out of the Casual Ward for some unspecified trouble. Kelly decided to pawn a pair of boots he had. He does this with a pawnbroker named Jones in Church Street. It was Kate who took them into the shop and pledged them under the name of Jane Kelly. She receives 2/6 for the boots and she and Kelly take the money and buy some food, tea and sugar. Between 10 and 11 AM they were seen by Frederick Wilkinson eating breakfast in the lodging house kitchen.

·         By afternoon they were again without money. Eddowes says she is going to see if she can get some money from her daughter in Bermondsey. She parts with Kelly in Houndsditch at 2:00 PM, promising to be back no later than 4:00 PM. "I never knew if she went to her daughter's at all," Kelly says at the inquest. "I only wish she had, for we had lived together for some time and never had a quarrel." Kate could not have seen her daughter who had moved since the last time Kate saw her.

·         8:00 PM: City PC Louis Robinson comes across Eddowes surrounded by a crowd outside 29 Aldgate High Street. She is very drunk and laying in a heap on the pavement. Robinson asks those in the crowd if anyone knew her, no one replied. He pulled her up to her feet and leaned her against the building's shutters but she slipped sideways. With the aid of City PC 959 George Simmons they brought her to Bishopsgate Police Station.Louis Robinson City Police Constable 931 said at Kate's inquest 'On the 29th at 8.30 I was on duty in Aldgate Hight Street, I saw a crowd of persons outside No. 29 - I saw there a woman whom I have since recognised as the Deceased lying on the footway drunk. I asked if there was one that knew her or knew where she lived but I got no answer.'

·         8:45 PM: Bishopsgate Police Station Sergeant James Byfield notes Eddowes arrival at the station. Supported by PCs Robinson and Simmons, Eddowes was asked her name and she replied "Nothing." At 8:50 PM PC Robinson looked in on her in her cell. She was asleep and smelled of drink. At 9:45 PM The Gaoler, City PC 968 George Hutt, took charge of the prisoners. He visited the cell every half hour during the night upon the directive of Sergeant Byfield.

·         9:45 PM: City PCs on night beat leave Bishopsgate Station. They are marched behind their Beat Sergeants from Bishopsgate Station to their respective beats. In amongst these men were City PCs Edward Watkins and James Harvey.

·         Approx 10:00 PM: City PC 881 Edward Watkins commenced his first full round of his beat. This consisted of Duke Street through Heneage Lane, through a portion of Bury Street, then through Creechurch Lane, into Leadenhall Street, along Leadenhall Street into Mitre Street, then into Mitre Square, around the square, back into Mitre Street, then into King Street, along King Street, into St James Place, around St James Place, thence into Duke Street to continue another patrol.

·         Approx 10:00 PM: City PC 964 James Harvey commenced his beat. From Bevis Marks he moved to Duke Street, into Little Duke Street, to Houndsditch, from Houndsditch back to Duke Street, along Duke Street to Church Passage, back again into Duke Street, to Aldgate, from there to Mitre Street, back again to Houndsditch, up Houndsditch, to Little Duke Street, again back to Houndsditch, to Goring Street, up Goring Street and back to Bevis Marks.

·         12:15 AM: Kate is heard singing softly to herself in the cell. 12:30 AM: She calls out to ask when she will be released. "When you are capable of taking care of yourself." Hutt replies. "I can do that now." Kate informs him.

·         12:55 AM: Sergeant Byfield instructs PC Hutt to see if any prisoners were fit to be released. Kate was found to be sober. She gives her name as Mary Ann Kelly, and her address as 6 Fashion Street. Kate is released.

·         She leaves the station at 1:00 AM.
"What time is it?" she asks Hutt. 
"Too late for you to get anything to drink." he replies.
"I shall get a damn fine hiding when I get home." She tells him.
Hutt replies, " And serve you right, you had no right to get drunk."
Hutt pushes open the swinging door of that station. 
"This way missus," he says, "please pull it to."
"All right'" Kate replies, "Goodnight, old cock."

·         She turned left out the doorway which took her in the opposite direction of what would have been the fastest way back to Flower and Dean Street. She appears to be heading back toward Aldgate High Street where she had become drunk. On going down Houndsditch she would have passed the entrance to Duke Street, at the end of which was Church Passage which led into Mitre Square.

·         It is estimated that it would have taken less than ten minutes to reach Mitre Square. This leaves a thirty minute gap from the time she leaves the police station to the time she is seen outside of Mitre Square.

·         1:35 AM: Joseph Lawende, a commercial traveler in the cigarette trade, Joseph Hyam Levy, a butcher and Harry Harris, a furniture dealer leave the Imperial Club at 16-17 Duke Street. At the corner of Duke Street and Church Passage they see Eddowes and a man talking. She is standing facing the man with her hand on his chest, but not in a manner to suggest that she is resisting him. Lawende describes the man as 30 years old, 5 foot 7 inches tall, fair complexion and mustache with a medium build. He is wearing a pepper and salt colored jacket which fits loosely, a grey cloth cap with a peak of the same color. He has a reddish handkerchief knotted around his neck. Over all he gives the appearance of being a sailor. Lawende will later identify Catherine Eddowes clothes as the same as those worn by the woman he saw that night.·         Dr. Frederick Gordon Brown, London police surgeon called in at the murder, arrived at Mitre Square around 2:00 AM. His report is as follows.

·         "The body was on its back, the head turned to left shoulder. The arms by the side of the body as if they had fallen there. Both palms upwards, the fingers slightly bent. The left leg extended in a line with the body. The abdomen was exposed. Right leg bent at the thigh and knee. 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 was 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 were cut obliquely through.

·         There was a quantity of clotted blood on the pavement on the left side of the neck round the shoulder and upper part of arm, and fluid blood-coloured serum which had flowed under the neck to the right shoulder, the pavement sloping in that direction.

·         Body was quite warm. No death stiffening had taken place. She must have been dead most likely within the half hour. We looked for superficial bruises and saw none. No blood on the skin of the abdomen or secretion of any kind on the thighs. No spurting of blood on the bricks or pavement around. No marks of blood below the middle of the body. Several buttons were found in the clotted blood after the body was removed. There was no blood on the front of the clothes. There were no traces of recent connexion.

·         When the body arrived at Golden Lane, some of the blood was dispersed through the removal of the body to the mortuary. The clothes were taken off carefully from the body. A piece of deceased's ear dropped from the clothing.

·         I made a post mortem examination at half past two on Sunday afternoon. Rigor mortis was well marked; body not quite cold. Green discoloration over the abdomen.

·         After washing the left hand carefully, a bruise the size of a sixpence, recent and red, was discovered on the back of the left hand between the thumb and first finger. A few small bruises on right shin of older date. The hands and arms were bronzed. No bruises on the scalp, the back of the body, or the elbows.

·         The face was very much mutilated. There was a cut about 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 about 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 the angle of the jaw on the right side of 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 by an oblique cut from the bottom of the nasal bone to where the wings of the nose join on to the face. A cut from this divided the upper lip and extended through the substance of the gum over the right upper lateral incisor tooth.

·         About half an inch from the top of the nose was another oblique cut. There was a cut on the right angle of the mouth as if the cut of a point of a knife. The cut extended an inch and a half, parallel with the lower lip.

·         There was on each side of cheek a cut which peeled up the skin, forming a triangular flap about an inch and a half. On the left cheek there were two abrasions of the epithelium under the left ear.

·         The throat was cut across to the extent of about six or seven inches. A superficial cut commenced about an inch and a half below the lobe below, and about two and a half inches behind the left ear, and extended across the throat to about three inches below the lobe of the right ear.

·         The big muscle across the throat was divided through on the left side. The large vessels on the left side of the neck were severed. The larynx was severed below the vocal chord. All the deep structures were severed to the bone, the knife marking intervertebral cartilages. The sheath of the vessels on the right side was just opened.

·         The carotid artery had a fine hole opening, the internal jugular vein was opened about an inch and a half -- not divided. The blood vessels contained clot. All these injuries were performed by a sharp instrument like a knife, and pointed.

·         The cause of death was haemorrhage from the left common carotid artery. The death was immediate and the mutilations were inflicted after death.

·         We examined the abdomen. The front walls were laid open from the breast bones to the pubes. The cut commenced opposite the enciform cartilage. The incision went upwards, not penetrating the skin that was over the sternum. It then divided the enciform cartilage. The knife must have cut obliquely at the expense of that cartilage.

·         Behind this, the liver was stabbed as if by the point of a sharp instrument. Below this was another incision into the liver of about two and a half inches, and below this the left lobe of the liver was slit through by a vertical cut. Two cuts were shewn by a jagging of the skin on the left side.

·         The abdominal walls were divided in the middle line to within a quarter of an inch of the navel. The cut then took a horizontal course for two inches and a half towards the right side. It then divided round the navel on the left side, and made a parallel incision to the former horizontal incision, leaving the navel on a tongue of skin. Attached to the navel was two and a half inches of the lower part of the rectus muscle on the left side of the abdomen. The incision then took an oblique direction to the right and was shelving. The incision went down the right side of the vagina and rectum for half an inch behind the rectum.

·         There was a stab of about an inch on the left groin. This was done by a pointed instrument. Below this was a cut of three inches going through all tissues making a wound of the peritoneum about the same extent.

·         An inch below the crease of the thigh was a cut extending from the anterior spine of the ilium obliquely down the inner side of the left thigh and separating the left labium, forming a flap of skin up to the groin. The left rectus muscle was not detached.

·         There was a flap of skin formed by the right thigh, attaching the right labium, and extending up to the spine of the ilium. The muscles on the right side inserted into the frontal ligaments were cut through.

·         The skin was retracted through the whole of the cut through the abdomen, but the vessels were not clotted. Nor had there been any appreciable bleeding from the vessels. I draw the conclusion that the act was made after death, and there would not have been much blood on the murderer. The cut was made by someone on the right side of the body, kneeling below the middle of the body.

·         I removed the content of the stomach and placed it in a jar for further examination. There seemed very little in it in the way of food or fluid, but from the cut end partly digested farinaceous food escaped.

·         The intestines had been detached to a large extent from the mesentery. About two feet of the colon was cut away. The sigmoid flexure was invaginated into the rectum very tightly.

·         Right kidney was pale, bloodless with slight congestion of the base of the pyramids.

·         There was a cut from the upper part of the slit on the under surface of the liver to the left side, and another cut at right angles to this, which were about an inch and a half deep and two and a half inches long. Liver itself was healthy.

·         The gall bladder contained bile. The pancreas was cut, but not through, on the left side of the spinal column. Three and a half inches of the lower border of the spleen by half an inch was attached only to the peritoneum.

·         The peritoneal lining was cut through on the left side and the left kidney carefully taken out and removed. The left renal artery was cut through. I would say that someone who knew the position of the kidney must have done it.

·         The lining membrane over the uterus was cut through. The womb was cut through horizontally, leaving a stump of three quarters of an inch. The rest of the womb had been taken away with some of the ligaments. The vagina and cervix of the womb was uninjured.

·         The bladder was healthy and uninjured, and contained three or four ounces of water. There was a tongue-like cut through the anterior wall of the abdominal aorta. The other organs were healthy. There were no indications of connexion.

·         I believe the wound in the throat was first inflicted. I believe she must have been lying on the ground.

·         The wounds on the face and abdomen prove that they were inflicted by a sharp, pointed knife, and that in the abdomen by one six inches or longer.

·         I believe the perpetrator of the act must have had considerable knowledge of the position of the organs in the abdominal cavity and the way of removing them. It required a great deal of medical knowledge to have removed the kidney and to know where it was placed. The parts removed would be of no use for any professional purpose.

·         I think the perpetrator of this act had sufficient time, or he would not have nicked the lower eyelids. It would take at least five minutes.

·         I cannot assign any reason for the parts being taken away. I feel sure that there was no struggle, and believe it was the act of one person.

·         The throat had been so instantly severed that no noise could have been emitted. I should not expect much blood to have been found on the person who had inflicted these wounds. The wounds could not have been self-inflicted.

·         My attention was called to the apron, particularly the corner of the apron with a string attached. The blood spots were of recent origin. I have seen the portion of an apron produced by Dr. Phillips and stated to have been found in Goulston Street. It is impossible to say that it is human blood on the apron. I fitted the piece of apron, which had a new piece of material on it (which had evidently been sewn on to the piece I have), the seams of the borders of the two actually corresponding. Some blood and apparently faecal matter was found on the portion that was found in Goulston Street.·         Funeral

·         Catherine Eddowes was buried on Monday, 8 October, 1888

·         Kate was buried in an unmarked grave in an elm coffin in City of London Cemetery, (Little Ilford) at Manor Park Cemetery, Sebert Road, Forest Gate, London, E12, in (public) grave 49336, square 318.

·         The Times said:

·         The body of the Mitre-square victim - Catherine Eddowes, alias Conway, alias Kelly - still lies in the City Mortuary, Golden-lane. At half-past one o'clock to-day [8 Oct] it will be removed for burial in the Ilford Cemetery.

·         The funeral of the victim of the Mitre-square tragedy took place yesterday afternoon. In the vicinity of the City mortuary in Golden-lane quite a multitude of persons assembled to witness the departure of the cortège for the Ilford cemetery. Not only was the thoroughfare itself thronged with people, but the windows and roofs of adjoining buildings were occupied by groups of spectators. The procession left the mortuary shortly after half-past one o'clock. It consisted of a hearse of improved description, a mourning coach, containing relatives and friends of the deceased, and a brougham conveying representatives of the press. The coffin was of polished elm, with oak mouldings, and bore a plate with the inscription, in gold letters, "Catherine Eddowes, died Sept. 30, 1888, aged 43 years." One of the sisters of the deceased laid a beautiful wreath on the coffin as it was placed in the hearse, and at the graveside a wreath of marguerites was added by a sympathetic kinswoman. The mourners were the four sisters of the murdered woman, Harriet Jones, Emma Eddowes, Eliza Gold, and Elizabeth Fisher, her two nieces Emma and Harriet Jones, and John Kelly, the man with whom she had lived. As the funeral procession passed through Golden-lane and Old-street the thousands of persons who followed it nearly into Whitechapel rendered locomotion extremely difficult. Order was, however, admirably maintained by a body of police under Superintendent Foster and Inspector Woollett of the City force, and beyond the boundaries of the City by a further contingent under Superintendent Hunt and Inspector Burnham of the G Division. The route taken after leaving Old-street was by way of Great Eastern-street, Commercial-street, Whitechapel-road, Mile-end-road, through Stratford to the City cemetery at Ilford. A large crowd had collected opposite the parish church of St. Mary.s, Whitechapel, to see the procession pass, and at the cemetery it was awaited by several hundreds, most of whom had apparently made their way thither from the East-end. Men and women of all ages, many of the latter carrying infants in their arms, gathered round the grave. The remains were interred in the Church of England portion of the cemetery, the service being conducted by the chaplain, the Rev. Mr. Dunscombe. Mr. G. C. Hawkes, a vestryman of St. Luke.s, undertook the responsibility of carrying out the funeral at his own expense, and the City authorities, to whom the burial ground belongs, remitted the usual fees. (The Daily Telegraph, October 8 1888, page 3, October 9 1888, page 3)

·         Today, square 318 has been re-used for part of the Memorial Gardens for cremated remains. Kate lies beside the Garden Way in front of Memorial Bed 1849. In late 1996, the cemetery authorities decided to mark Kate's grave with a plaque.

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                                                                                                                Mary Jane Kelly was approximately 25 years old at the time of her death which would place her birth around 1863·         Mary Jane Kelly was approximately 25 years old at the time of her death which would place her birth around 1863. She was 5' 7" tall and stout. She had blonde hair, blue eyes and a fair complexion. "Said to have been possessed of considerable personal attractions." (McNaughten)

·         She was last seen wearing a linsey frock and a red shawl pulled around her shoulders. She was bare headed. Detective Constable Walter Dew claimed to know Kelly well by sight and says that she was attractive and paraded around, usually in the company of two or three friends. He says she always wore a spotlessly clean white apron.

·         Maria Harvey, a friend, says that she was "much superior to that of most persons in her position in life."

·         It is also said that she spoke fluent Welsh.

·         Joseph Barnett says that he "always found her of sober habits."

·         Landlord John McCarthy says "When in liquor she was very noisy; otherwise she was a very quiet woman."

·         Caroline Maxwell says that she "was not a notorious character."

·         Catherine Pickett claims "She was a good, quiet, pleasant girl, and was well liked by all of us."

·         History:

·         Almost everything that is known about Mary Jane Kelly comes from Joseph Barnett, who lived with her just prior to the murder. He, of course, had all this information from Kelly herself. Some is conflicting and it may be suspected that some, or perhaps much of it, is embellished.

·         She was born in Limerick, Ireland but we do not know if that refers to the county or the town. As a young child she moved with her family to Wales.

·         Her father was John Kelly who worked in an iron works in either Carnarvonshire or Carmarthenshire. Mary Jane claims to have 6 or 7 brothers and one sister. She says that one brother, Henry, whose nickname is Johnto is a member of the 2nd Battalion Scots Guards. As a member of this battalion he would have been stationed in Dublin, Ireland. She also claims to Lizzie Albrook that she had a relative on the London stage.

·         John McCarthy, landlord at Miller's Court, states that she received a letter from her mother in Ireland. Barnett says that she never corresponded with her family.

·         Joseph Barnett and Mrs. Carthy, a woman with whom she lived at one time, say that she came from a family that was "fairly well off" (Barnett) and "well to do people" (Carthy). Mrs. Carthy also states that Kelly was "an excellent scholar and an artist of no mean degree."

·         Mrs. Carthy is the landlady from Breezer's Hill, Ratcliffe Highway. Barnett refers to her house as "a bad house."

·         c. 1879: At the age of 16 she marries a collier named Davies. He is killed in an explosion two or three years later. There is a suggestion that there might have been a child in this marriage.

·         Kelly moves to Cardiff and lives with a cousin and works as a prostitute. The Cardiff police have no record of her. She says she was ill and spent the best part of the time in an infirmary.

·         She arrives in London in 1884.

·         She may have stayed with the nuns at the Providence Row Night Refuge on Crispin Street. According to one tradition she scrubbed floors and charred here and was eventually placed into domestic service in a shop in Cleveland Street.

·         According to Joseph Barnett, on arriving in London, Kelly went to work in a high class brothel in the West End. She says that during this time she frequently rode in a carriage and accompanied one gentleman to Paris, which she didn't like and she returned.

·         On November 10, one day after the murder, Mrs. Elizabeth Phoenix of 57 Bow Common Lane, Burdett Road, Bow, went to the Leman Street Police Station and said that a woman matching the description of Kelly used to live in her brother-in-law's house in Breezer's Hill, off Pennington Street.

·         Mrs. Phoenix says that "She was Welsh and that her parents, who had discarded her, still lived in Cardiff, from which place she came. But on occasions she declared that she was Irish." She added that Mary Jane was very abusive and quarrelsome when she was drunk but "one of the most decent and nice girls you could meet when sober."

·         A Press Association reporter who looked into the Breezer's Hill District wrote:

·         "It would appear that on her arrival in London she made the acquaintance of a French woman residing in the neighborhood 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 would drive 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 that stands out in bold and sad contrast to her earlier experience was commenced. Her experiences with the East End appears to have begun with a woman (according to press reports a Mrs. Buki) who resided in one of the thoroughfares off Ratcliffe Highway, known as St. George's Street. This person appears 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 extant which made her unwelcome. From St. George's Street she went to lodge with a Mrs. Carthy at Breezer's Hill. This place she left about 18 months or two years ago and from that time on appears to have left Ratcliffe all together.

·         Mrs. Carthy said that Kelly had left her house and gone to live with a man who was in the building trade and who Mrs. Carthy believed would have married Kelly."

·         c. 1886: Kelly leaves Carthy's house to live with a man in the building trades. Barnett says she lived with a man named Morganstone opposite or in the vicinity of Stepney Gasworks. She had then taken up with a man named Joseph Fleming and lived somewhere near Bethnal Green. Fleming was a stone mason or mason's plasterer. He used to visit Kelly and seemed quite fond of her. A neighbour at Miller's Court, Julia Venturney says that Kelly was fond of a man other than Barnett and whose name was also Joe. She thought he was a costermonger and sometimes visited and gave money to Kelly.

·         By 1886 she is living in 'Cooley's Lodging House' in Thrawl Street, Spitalfields and it is here that she meetsJoseph Barnett.

·         Joseph Barnett is London born of Irish heritage. He is a riverside laborer and market porter who is licensed to work at Billingsgate Fish Market. He comes from a family of three sisters and one brother who is named Daniel. Barnett was born in 1858 and dies in 1926.

·         Julia Venturney says that Joe Barnett is of good character and was kind to Mary Jane, giving her money on occasion.

·         Barnett and Kelly are remembered as a friendly and pleasant couple who give little trouble unless they are drunk. She may be the Mary Jane Kelly who was fined 2/6 by the Thames Magistrate Court on September 19, 1888 for being drunk and disorderly.

·         Good Friday, April 8, 1887: Joseph Barnett meets Mary Jane Kelly for the first time in Commercial Street. He takes her for a drink and arranges to meet her the following day. At their second meeting they arrange to live together.

·         They take lodgings in George Street, off Commercial Street. Later they move to Little Paternoster Row off Dorset Street. They are evicted for not paying rent and for being drunk. Next they move to Brick Lane.

·         In February or March of 1888 they move from Brick Lane to Miller's Court off Dorset Street. Here they occupy a single room which is designated 13 Miller's Court.

·         August or early September, 1888: Barnett loses his job and Mary Jane returns to the streets. Barnett decides to leave her.

·         October 30, between 5 and 6 PM: Elizabeth Prater, who lives above Kelly reports that Barnett and Kelly have an argument and Barnett leaves her. He goes to live at Buller's boarding house at 24-25 New Street, Bishopsgate.

·         Barnett states at the inquest that he left her because she was allowing other prostitutes to stay in the room. "She would never have gone wrong again," he tells a newspaper, "and I shouldn't have left her if it had not been for the prostitutes stopping at the house. She only let them (stay there) because she was good hearted and did not like to refuse them shelter on cold bitter nights." He adds, "We lived comfortably until Marie allowed a prostitute named Julia to sleep in the same room; I objected: and as Mrs. Harvey afterwards came and stayed there, I left and took lodgings elsewhere."

·         Maria Harvey stayed with Kelly on the nights of November 5 and 6. She moved to new lodgings at 3 New Court, another alley offDorset Street.

·         Wednesday, November 7: Mary Jane buys a half penny candle from McCarthy's shop. She is later seen in Miller's Court by Thomas Bowyer, a pensioned soldier whose nickname is "Indian Harry." He is employed by McCarthy and lives at 37 Dorset Street.

·         Bowyer states that on Wednesday night he saw a man speaking to Kelly who closely resembled the description of the man Matthew Packer claims to have seen with Elizabeth Stride. His appearance was smart and attention was drawn to him by his very white cuffs and rather long, white collar which came down over the front of his long black coat. He did not carry a bag.

·         Thursday-Friday, November 8-9: Almost every day after the split, Barnett would visit Mary Jane. On Friday the ninth he stops between 7:30 and 7:45 PM. He says she is in the company of another woman who lives in Miller's Court. This may have been Lizzie Albrook who lived at 2 Miller's Court.

·         Albrook says "About the last thing she said to me was 'Whatever you do don't you do wrong and turn out as I did.' She had often spoken to me in this way and warned me against going on the street as she had done. She told me, too, that she was heartily sick of the life she was leading and wished she had money enough to go back to Ireland where her people lived. I do not believe she would have gone out as she did if she had not been obliged to do so to keep herself from starvation."·         Maria Harvey also says that she was woman that Barnett saw with Mary Jane and that she left at 6:55 PM.

·         8:00 PM: Barnett leaves and goes back to Buller's Boarding House where he played whist until 12:30 AM and then went to bed.

·         8:00 PM: Julia Venturney, who lives at 1 Miller's Court goes to bed.

·         There are no confirmed sightings of Mary Jane Kelly between 8:00 PM and 11:45 PM. there is an unconfirmed story that she is drinking with a woman named Elizabeth Foster at the Ten Bells Public House.

·         11:00 PM: It is said she is in the Britannia drinking with a young man with a dark mustache who appears respectable and well dressed. It is said she is very drunk.

·         11:45 PM: Mary Ann Cox, a 31 year old widower and prostitute, who lives at 5 Miller's Court (last house on the left) enters Dorset Street from Commercial Street. Cox is returning home to warm herself as the night had turned cold. She sees Kelly ahead of her, walking with a stout man. The man was aged around 35 or 36 and was about 5' 5" tall. He was shabbily dressed in a long overcoat and a billycock hat. He had a blotchy face and small side whiskers and a carroty mustache. The man is carrying a pail of beer.·         No family member could be found to attend the funeral. (The Daily Telegraph, November 19 1888, page 3, November 20 1888, page 3)

·         Mary Jane's grave was reclaimed in the 1950s. John Morrison erected a large, white headstone in 1986, but marked the wrong grave. Morrison's headstone was later removed, and the superintendent re-marked Mary Jane's grave with a simple memorial in the 1990s.

·         Death Certificate

·         Death Certificate: No. 326, registered 17 November, 1888 (HC 08437). Certificate lists name as "Marie Jeanette Kelly," aka "Davies." Certificate lists place of death as "1 Millers Court Christ Church."

The Worst of the canonicle 5 murders as you can see. This man must have been slightly insane but not insane as some people think. He would not loose His calmness during the murders. If he so did he deffinately would not have had the calmness or patience to remove certain bodily elements with such precision.

You can decide for your self if This man was indeed insane but from what i have read and noted i don’t believe this is the case. Yes for deffinate he would of had to have been partially insane.

·         Mrs. Cox follows them into Miller's Court. they are standing outside Kelly's room as Mrs. Cox passed and said "Goodnight." Somewhat incoherently, Kelly replied "Goodnight, I am going to sing." A few minutes later Mrs. Cox hears Kelly singing "A Violet from Mother's Grave" (see below). Cox goes out again at midnight and hears Kelly singing the same song.

·         Somewhere in this time period, Mary Jane takes a meal of fish and potatoes.

·         12:30 AM: Catherine Pickett, a flower-seller who lives near Kelly, is disturbed by Kelly's singing. Picket's husband stops her from going down stairs to complain. "You leave the poor woman alone." he says.

·         1:00 AM: It is beginning to rain. Again, Mary Ann Cox returns home to warm herself. At that time Kelly is still singing or has begun to sing again. There was light coming from Kelly's room. Shortly after one, Cox goes out again.

·         Elizabeth Prater, the wife of William Prater, a boot finisher who had left her 5 years before, is standing at the entrance to Miller's Court waiting for a man. Prater lives in room number 20 of 26 Dorset Street. This is directly above Kelly. She stands there about a half hour and then goes into to McCarthy's to chat. She hears no singing and sees no one go in or out of the court. After a few minutes she goes back to her room, places two chairs in front of her door and goes to sleep without undressing. She is very drunk.

·         2:00 AM: George Hutchinson, a resident of the Victoria Working Men's Home on Commercial Street has just returned to the area from Romford. He is walking on Commercial Street and passes a man at the corner of Thrawl Street but pays no attention to him. At Flower and Dean Street he meets Kelly who asks him for money. "Mr. Hutchinson, can you lend me sixpence?" "I can't," says Hutchinson, "I spent all my money going down to Romford." "Good morning," Kelly replies, "I must go and find some money." She then walks in the direction of Thrawl Street.

·         She meets the man Hutchinson had passed earlier. The man puts his hand on Kelly's shoulder and says something at which Kelly and the man laugh. Hutchinson hears Kelly say "All right." and the man say "You will be all right for what I have told you." The man then puts his right hand on Kelly's shoulder and they begin to walk towards Dorset Street. Hutchinson notices that the man has a small parcel in his left hand.

·         While standing under a street light on outside the Queen's Head Public House Hutchinson gets a good look at the man with Mary Jane Kelly. He has a pale complexion, a slight moustache turned up at the corners (changed to dark complexion and heavy moustache in the press reports), dark hair, dark eyes, and bushy eyebrows. He is, according to Hutchinson, of "Jewish appearance." The man is wearing a soft felt hat pulled down over his eyes, a long dark coat trimmed in astrakhan, a white collar with a black necktie fixed with a horseshoe pin. He wears dark spats over light button over boots. A massive gold chain is in his waistcoat with a large seal with a red stone hanging from it. He carries kid gloves in his right hand and a small package in his left. He is 5' 6" or 5' 7" tall and about 35 or 36 years old.

·         Kelly and the man cross Commercial Street and turn down Dorset Street. Hutchinson follows them. Kelly and the man stop outsideMiller's Court and talk for about 3 minutes. Kelly is heard to say "All right, my dear. Come along. You will be comfortable." The man puts his arm around Kelly who kisses him. "I've lost my handkerchief." she says. At this he hands her a red handkerchief. The couple then heads down Miller's Court. Hutchinson waits until the clock strikes 3:00 AM. leaving as the clock strikes the hour.

·         3:00 AM: Mrs. Cox returns home yet again. It is raining hard. There is no sound or light coming from Kelly's room. Cox does not go back out but does not go to sleep. Throughout the night she occasionally hears men going in and out of the court. She told the inquest "I heard someone go out at a quarter to six. I do not know what house he went out of (as) I heard no door shut."

·         4:00 AM: Elizabeth Prater is awakened by her pet kitten "Diddles" walking on her neck. She hears a faint cry of "Oh, murder!" but, as the cry of murder is common in the district, she pays no attention to it. Sarah Lewis, who is staying with friends in Miller's Court, also hears the cry.

·         8:30 AM: Caroline Maxwell, a witness at the inquest and acquaintance of Kelly's, claims to have seen the deceased at around 8:30 AM, several hours after the time given by Phillips as time of death. She described her clothing and appearance in depth, and adamantly stated that she was not mistaken about the date, although she admitted she did not know Kelly very well.

·         10:00 AM: Maurice Lewis, a tailor who resided in Dorset Street, told newspapers he had seen Kelly and Barnett in the Horn of Plenty public house on the night of the murder, but more importantly, that he saw her about 10:00 AM the next day. Like Maxwell, this time is several hours from the time of death, and because of this discrepancy, he was not called to the inquest and virtually ignored by police.

·         10:45 AM: John McCarthy, owner of "McCarthy's Rents," as Miller's Court was known, sends Thomas Bowyer to collect past due rent money from Mary Kelly. After Bowyer receives no response from knocking (and because the door was locked) he pushes aside the curtain and peers inside, seeing the body. He informs McCarthy, who, after seeing the mutilated remains of Kelly for himself, ran toCommercial Street Police Station, where he spoke with Inspector Walter Beck, who returned to the Court with McCarthy.

·         Several hours later, after waiting fruitlessly for the arrival of the bloodhounds "Barnaby" and "Burgho," McCarthy smashes in the door with an axe handle under orders from Superintendent Thomas Arnold.

·         When police enter the room they find Mary Jane Kelly's clothes neatly folded on a chair and she is wearing a chemise. Her boots are in front of the fireplace.

·         Post-mortem

·         Dr. Thomas Bond, a distinguished police surgeon from A-Division, was called in on the Mary Kelly murder. His report is as follows:

·         "The body was lying naked 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 and lying across the abdomen.

·         The right arm was slightly abducted from the body and rested on the mattress. The elbow was bent, the forearm supine with the fingers clenched. The legs were wide apart, the left thigh at right angles to the trunk and the right forming an obtuse angle with the pubes.

·         The whole of the surface of the abdomen and thighs was removed and the abdominal cavity emptied of its viscera. The breasts were cut off, the arms mutilated by several jagged wounds and 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 and kidneys with one breast under the head, the other breast by the right foot, the liver between the feet, the intestines by the right side and 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, and on the floor beneath was a pool of blood covering about two feet square. The wall by the right side of the bed and in a line with the neck was marked by blood which had struck it in a number of separate splashes.

·         The face was gashed in all directions, the nose, cheeks, eyebrows, and ears being partly removed. The lips were blanched and 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 and other tissues right down to the vertebrae, the fifth and sixth being deeply notched. The skin cuts in the front of the neck showed distinct ecchymosis. The air passage was cut at the lower part of the larynx through the cricoid cartilage.

·         Both breasts were more or less removed by circular incisions, the muscle down to the ribs being attached to the breasts. The intercostals between the fourth, fifth, and sixth ribs were cut through and the contents of the thorax visible through the openings.

·         The skin and tissues of the abdomen from the costal arch to the pubes 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, and part of the right buttock. The left thigh was stripped of skin fascia, and muscles as far as the knee.

·         The left calf showed a long gash through skin and tissues to the deep muscles and reaching from the knee to five inches above the ankle. Both arms and forearms had extensive jagged wounds.

·         The right thumb showed a small superficial incision about one inch long, with extravasation of blood in the skin, and 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 and torn away. The left lung was intact. It was adherent at the apex and there were a few adhesions over the side. In the substances of the lung there were several nodules of consolidation.

·         The pericardium was open below and the heart absent. In the abdominal cavity there was some partly digested food of fish and potatoes, and similar food was found in the remains of the stomach attached to the intestines."

·         Dr. George Bagster Phillips was also present at the scene, and gave the following testimony at the inquest:

·         "The mutilated remains of a female were lying two-thirds over towards the edge of the bedstead nearest the door. She had only her chemise on, or some underlinen garment. I am sure that the body had been removed subsequent to the injury which caused her death from that side of the bedstead that was nearest the wooden partition, because of the large quantity of blood under the bedstead and the saturated condition of the sheet and the palliasse at the corner nearest the partition.

·         The blood was produced by the severance of the carotid artery, which was the cause of death. The injury was inflicted while the deceased was lying at the right side of the bedstead."

·         Funeral

·         Buried: Monday, 19 November, 1888

·         Mary Jane Kelly was buried in a public grave at St Patrick's Roman Catholic Cemetery, Langthorne Road, Leytonstone E11. Her grave was no. 66 in row 66, plot 10.

·         The funeral of the murdered woman Kelly has once more been postponed. Deceased was a Catholic, and the man Barnett, with whom she lived, and her landlord, Mr. M.Carthy, desired to see her remains interred with the ritual of her Church. The funeral will, therefore, take place tomorrow [19 Nov] in the Roman Catholic Cemetery at Leytonstone. The hearse will leave the Shoreditch mortuary at half-past twelve.

·         The remains of Mary Janet Kelly, who was murdered on Nov. 9 in Miller's-court, Dorset-street, Spitalfields, were brought yesterday morning from Shoreditch mortuary to the cemetery at Leytonstone, where they were interred.