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Rippermania: Fear and Fascination in Victorian London
Michelle Burns
In
the autumn of 1888 five prostitutes were brutally murdered in the Whitechapel
district of East End London. There was no obvious motive and the women’s
bodies had been mutilated, some with organs missing. This and the ensuing
reactions to the crimes led the ‘Whitechapel fiend’ to be nicknamed ‘Jack the
Ripper’[1]. At
the time, these ‘sex crimes’ that we are familiar with today, were virtually
unknown giving rise to the belief that Jack the Ripper was the father of the
modern-day serial killer and had led the way for crime as we know it in the
twentieth century. Rather than focusing on the murders themselves, my essay
will document and analyse the various reactions to these unsolved murders, by
placing Jack’s crimes within the broader social context of Victorian London. I
will also demonstrate how the prevailing attitudes of Victorian culture and the
media of the time created and perpetuated the legend of Jack the Ripper that
remains to this day.
Between
31st August and 9th November 1888, the brutal murders of five prostitutes[2] were attributed to the one killer. His modus
operandi involved strangulation or cutting of the throat, and the ‘laying
open’ of the abdomen with what was presumed to be a long sharp knife similar to
a post mortem knife used by surgeons[3].
Viscera from the abdominal cavities was pulled out and arranged around the
victims and some had all of, or portions of organs missing. All five murders
occurred at night within a quarter of a mile of each other in the Whitechapel
and Spitalfields parishes, with the exception of one body, which was found just
within the boundaries of the City of London[4].
Four of the murders were committed within the public space of poorly lit
alleyways where time dictated the extent of the Ripper’s mutilations and
darkness offered him cover from detection. In these four cases there was only
a short amount of time between passers-by, in which the Ripper could commit his
crimes and move on.
The
fifth and last victim was the exception. Twenty-four year old Mary Kelly was
the most horrifically violated owing to the fact that she was killed within the
private confines of her single lodging room[5].
With time on his side and no chance of being seen, the Ripper took out his fury
on the pregnant Kelly, his youngest victim[6].
Kelly was found with her throat and arm almost severed through, and her abdomen
partially ripped open. Her entrails were missing and her liver was placed
between her feet. Her forehead had been skinned and the flesh from her thighs
and legs had been stripped and placed on the bedside table along with her nose
and breasts, which had also been cut from her body. As a last defiant act, her
hand on the arm that was left unsevered had been pushed into her stomach[7].
Such
a violation as this, and to the previous victims, led to many debates on
whether the killer’s methods displayed any anatomical skill or knowledge of the
female body[8]. Some
believed that he was a mad doctor or surgeon, while others believed him to be a
butcher or slaughterman with just enough knowledge to locate and remove certain
organs[9]. Other
suspects included Jews or other foreigners, lunatics, local working men, and
associates of the murdered women[10]. Sir
Melville Macnaghten, Assistant Chief Constable at Scotland Yard, and a highly
regarded “contemporary guide” to the Whitechapel murders[11], put forward his opinion on three possible
suspects in his official report to Scotland Yard[12]. His memoranda outlined evidence against
a doctor “of good family” who was sexually insane”, a misogynistic Polish Jew
with “strong homicidal tendencies”, and a homicidal Russian doctor[13].
This
frantic search for suspects revealed deep-seated prejudices against certain
social classes and races[14] and
exposed weaknesses in the Metropolitan Police Force, which was unprepared to
deal with crimes like these. The East End of London was gripped by panic and
this exacerbated existing tensions with Jews and other foreigners, the police,
and the upper classes of the West End. Owing to their geographical distance from the location of the
murders, the West End was more
fascinated than fearful of the Ripper. His crimes created a sensation and
provoked long called-for social reforms in the debate over ‘Outcast London’.
In addition, the Ripper renewed West End fears of “a social revolution on the
part of the poor of the East End”[15]. In
order to understand these reactions, it is first necessary to understand
Victorian culture in the City of London, as the social backdrop to the Ripper’s crimes.
During
Queen Victoria’s reign, Britain experienced the massive social and
economic upheavals that accompanied industrialisation[16]. Victorian society was a paternalistic,
property-owning society marked by rigid class divisions. The majority of
wealth was concentrated in a relatively small upper class who had little sense
of responsibility for those living in poverty[17].
There was a puritanical conscience, and double standards in relation to gender
and sexuality[18]. Men
and women lived in separate social spheres. The public sphere was very much a
masculine domain, and women were expected to remain in the private sphere of
their homes[19].
As Victoria’s Empire spread
around the globe, the social conditions in London, the metropolitan centre, reflected the “economic uncertainty and
heightened class tensions”[20] of the
time. The East End of London was separated “topographically from the rest of
the metropolis as well as spiritually and economically”[21]. Known at the time as ‘Outcast London’,
the East End was the diseased blemish on the capital, and the shame of the British Empire. The landscape epitomised
all of the social ills of the ‘other’ London and further instigated racial and class otherness[22]. The East End was viewed by most Londoners “as a symbol of decadence, immorality,
criminality, and poverty”[23]. This
negative perception “migrated from West to East” so that even East Enders
resignedly accepted their living conditions as inevitable and inherent[24]. The prevailing attitude was that poverty
was a fact of life and was unlikely to change[25].
For
the nine hundred thousand inhabitants of the East End, life consisted of overcrowding[26],
unsanitary conditions, lodging houses, workhouses, sweatshops, and brothels[27]. Living day to day, many East Enders
worked casually during the day to earn their ‘doss’ money for a bed in one of
the many lodging houses at night. If a fourpence single bed couldn’t be
afforded that night, then women could share a bed with a man in return for
various favours, and men could opt for the twopence lean-to. This was “a rope
stretched across the room for men to lean on… and sleep as best they could”[28].
Chronic
under-employment left thousands of East Enders, particularly women, on the
borderline of constant poverty[29]. These
women found it hard to reconcile the Victorian ideals of “motherhood and
domesticity with the harsh realities of poverty and the need to earn a living”[30]. However, an absence of factory work in London, and “a vast transitory population
of sailors on shore leave, dock and building workers, recent unattached male
immigrants, and slumming city men”, saw many women turn to prostitution[31]. Even married women resorted to
prostitution to help make ends meet when seasonal work was slow[32].
Prostitution
was a contentious issue among Victorian commentators[33] and there were “occasional outbursts of
moral panic, when the authorities tried to address the problem”[34]. Between 1864 and 1867, the Contagious
Diseases Acts were passed, allowing police to arrest women suspected of being
prostitutes, under the justification of preventing and controlling venereal
disease[35]. In
actual fact, the fear of venereal disease was greater than actual infection and
the legislation was aimed at protecting male clients and therefore their chaste
wives[36].
These sexual double standards saw prostitution and unmarried mothers as the
targets of social reform rather than their male partners in ‘sin’. Cultural
anxieties about a loss of social control were personified in the “fallen woman”[37] and prostitution was inevitably used as a
measure of poverty, public health, and social morality[38]. It was against this backdrop that Jack
the Ripper made his entrance. Economic necessity kept these women mostly alone
on the streets late into the night, and it was due to their accessibility that
the Ripper chose his victims from this class[39].
By
1888, there was intense debate over what to do with ‘Outcast London’. As
George Bernard Shaw pointed out, Jack the Ripper highlighted everything that
was wrong with the neglected East End as well as many of the prevailing attitudes of Victorian England.
He referred to the Ripper as “some independent genius” who had taken the matter
in hand while everyone was wasting their time on “education, agitation and
organisation”[40]. Jack’s
crimes “reinforced a whole series of larger long-standing concerns and
preconceived notions”[41] about
class distinctions and race.
Poverty
and an influx of Russian and German Jews fleeing persecution in Europe, led to
social unrest in the East End.
The belief that this “rising tide of Jewish immigration was reducing native
Englishmen to destitution led to an increase in popular anti-Semitism”[42]. This anti-Semitism found its expression
in “a deliberate attempt to connect the Jews with the Whitechapel murders”[43]. Some writing found on a wall in Goulston Street shortly after one of the
bodies was found, stated that “The Juwes are the men that will not be blamed
for nothing”[44].
Metropolitan Police Commissioner Sir Charles Warren washed it off before sunrise,
in order to prevent “an onslaught upon the Jews”[45]. It was not known whether the Ripper had
written the words, but Warren
stated in his report to the Home Secretary that it was “evidently written with
the intention of inflaming the public mind against the Jews”[46].
Tensions
between the East End and the upper classes of the West
End were also heightened. Just a year earlier, many
unemployed workers and vagrants had started to regularly camp out in Trafalgar Square, with charities supplying
them with food and clothing[47]. Sir
Charles Warren’s efforts to clear the ‘scum’ from the city, were met with
resistance by a huge mob of armed demonstrators which resulted in the battle of
‘Bloody Sunday’ on 13th November 1887 in Trafalgar
Square[48]. The West End
feared that the panic brought on by the Whitechapel murders would result in
another of these uprisings. The working class resentment toward Sir Charles
Warren and the police force surfaced again during the murders[49]. Although “hundreds of extra police were
drafted in to patrol the streets of Whitechapel”, the Ripper remained at large,
causing tensions and fear to rise[50].
The
Metropolitan Police Force had no previous experience with murder without any
obvious motive, and was therefore ill prepared to catch the Ripper. The lack
of witnesses and any real clues further complicated matters, and the police
force were under constant attack for being incompetent and calls for Sir Warren
to resign[51]. One
contemporary New York Times journalist proclaimed that “the London police and detective force is
probably the stupidest in the world”[52], while
another suggested that the police force did nothing but observe secrecy, which
could be “easily melted with half a crown, by the way”[53].
The
police also received around a thousand letters of advice from the public each
week, with suggestions on how to catch the Ripper and also with ideas on his
identity[54]. One
woman, obviously influenced by Edgar Allen Poe, believed the Ripper was
actually a large ape escaped from a wild beast show, while others believed he
was a foreigner who was trying to overthrow the Empire, or a member of the
upper class who was trying to rid the city of lower class ‘scum’[55]. Suggestions on how to catch the killer
ranged from disguising policemen as women, rigging alarm bells at thirty foot
intervals around Whitechapel, and arming prostitutes with revolvers[56]. Perhaps the most useful suggestion,
which was echoed by many social reformers, was to improve the bad street
lighting in East End streets
and alleys[57]. The
poor lighting would have allowed the blood-covered killer to walk the streets
without attracting the attention of passers-by.
Poor
street lighting, just as one sign of the neglect of ‘Outcast London’, had far
reaching effects. It contributed to the image of Whitechapel as the ‘East End
Murderland’, and as a space for crime to flourish[58]. The press played up this sense of place,
piecing together Jack the Ripper narratives against the social and moral
backdrop of urban degradation[59]. The
fact that the crimes involved sexual mutilation gave rise to their notoriety
and ensured that the press were provided with the most sensational of stories.
However, due to the lack of historical precedents for the murders, newspaper
reports resorted to fiction and the fantastic as references[60].
This
was especially the case across the Atlantic in New York
City. Owing to their safe distance from the Ripper,
their newspaper reports used sensationalism to entertain readers fascinated
with the mystery of Jack the Ripper, and were not concerned with accuracy.
Journalists peppered their articles with descriptions of Jack as “a
bloodthirsty beast in human shape” [61] with
“the cool cunning… of a monomaniac”[62]. The
victims were described as “wretched women”[63]
and streetwalkers “of the lowest class”[64].
The press were repeatedly blamed for instigating panic, yet newspaper reports
were the only way of informing the London public about what was happening. British reports were more factual
in order to try and alleviate fears. The Ripper is hardly mentioned, and the
victims were described more respectfully as “the unfortunate woman” who was “somewhat
addicted to drink” and who had “supported herself as best as she could”[65].
During
the height of the murders, the police, members of the Whitechapel Vigilance
Committee and the Central News Agency, were inundated with letters claiming to
be from the killer[66]. Only
three were taken seriously, one of which was the first to be signed ‘Jack the
Ripper’[67]. The
press published these letters, and presuming they were authentic, they allowed
Jack to satiate his desire for recognition by speaking to a mass audience[68]. The public were both fascinated with and
fearful of his jeering letters, which heightened the mystery, added to the
sensationalism surrounding the murders, and threatened the social order of London[69].
Jack’s
legend is still alive more than a century later, evidenced by the numerous
books, films, television documentaries, and even journals (The Ripperologist
and Ripperana) dedicated to him, “almost always with the aim of identifying the
killer”[70]. The
attraction for most researchers or ‘Ripperologists’ is the “elusiveness of a
true solution”[71] to the
mystery, which many hope may be possible with the technological abilities of
today. Crime novelist, Patricia Cornwell, has joined the search with her
conviction that painter Walter Richard Sickert was in fact Jack the Ripper,
based on a series of paintings he did twenty years after the murders. She has
spent $4 million buying up his paintings and other belongings in order for them
to be forensically tested. Nothing has been found yet to tie Sickert to the
crimes, and many have attacked Cornwell for destroying his paintings in her
obsession to solve the mystery[72].
Regardless
of whether the Ripper’s true identity is ever discovered, his legacy has lasted
to the present day, acting as a symbol for the social ills of any modern
society. At the time, his crimes shocked the Western world, which had never
seen or had to comprehend such gruesome crimes with no obvious motive. In this
way he is generally regarded as the first serial killer in the modern sense[73]. While searching for suspects and for
meaning behind the murders, many prevailing attitudes and prejudices rose to
the surface for examination. Jack the Ripper highlighted many of the problems
in Victorian society and instigated debate over social reform, particularly in
relation to the social conditions in East End London. Even today, research on
his crimes have “shed considerable light on a range of late Victorian
institutions, from the police to the press”[74]
as well as prostitution and the role of women in Victorian society. It was the
rarity of his grotesque crimes and the various reactions to them that have
added to the Ripper’s infamy, and the fact that this mystery has remained
unsolved, has created a legend around the name ‘Jack the Ripper’[75].
[1] Before receiving the letters signed by ‘Jack the Ripper’, the press
referred to the killer as ‘The Whitechapel fiend’: Ryder, S.P. (ed), “New York
Times – 9 September 1888”, Casebook: Jack the Ripper, 1996-2002 [Online],
Available: http://www.casebook.org/press_reports/new_york_times/nyt880909.html
[2002, Feb. 25]
[2] Mary Ann (Polly) Nichols (31st August), Annie Chapman (8th
September), Elizabeth (‘Long Liz’) Stride (30th September),
Catherine Eddowes (also 30th September – ‘The Double Event’), and
Mary Jane (or Ann) Kelly (9th November).
[3] Rumbelow, D., The Complete Jack the Ripper, (Boston: New
York Graphic Society, 1975), pp.51-117
[4] Walkowitz, J.R., City of Dreadful Delight: Narratives of Sexual
Danger in Late-Victorian London, (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press,
1992), p.192
[5] Rumbelow, D., op. cit., pp.100-117
[6] Jack’s other four victims ranged in age from 42 to 45 years.
[7] Rumbelow, D., op. cit., p.104
[8] Walkowitz, J.R., op. cit., p.198
[10] Since 1888, the suspect list has gone on to include Freemasons,
scholars, millionaires, and even Queen Victoria’s grandson, the Duke of Clarence: Rumbelow, D., op. cit.,
pp.142-231
[11] Thomas, D., The Victorian Underworld, (London: John Murray
Publishers, 1998), p.108
[12] The Macnaghten Memoranda are the most quoted and influential
documents in the Ripper case, and are used as a primary source by most Ripperologists
and historians.
[13] Ryder, S.P. (ed), “The Macnaghten Memoranda”, Casebook: Jack the
Ripper, 1996-2002 [Online], Available: http://www.casebook.org/official_documents/memo.html
[2002, Apr. 10]
[14] Haggard, R.F., “Jack the Ripper as the Threat of Outcast London”, Essays
in History, 1993 [Online], Available: http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/journals/EH/EH35/haggard1.html
[2002, Mar. 12], p.1
[17] Pearson, M., The Age of Consent: Victorian Prostitution and its
Enemies, (Devon: David & Charles Publishers, 1972), p.11
[19] Anderson, A., Tainted
Souls and Painted Faces: The Rhetoric of Fallenness in Victorian Culture,
(Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1993), p.13
[21] Rumbelow, D., op. cit., p.30
[22] Walkowitz, J.R., op. cit., p.195
[26] Families of up to seven people often lived together in one rented
room of a house: Rumbelow, D., op. cit., p.32
[27] Haggard, R.F., op. cit., p.2
[28] Rumbelow, D., op. cit., p.42
[29] Rubinstein, W.D., ‘The Hunt for Jack the Ripper’, History Today [Electronic],
v.50, i.5, p.10 Available: Expanded Academic ASAP/A62087847 [2002, March. 10],
p.11
[30] Cooper, S.F., The Victorian Woman, (London: V&A Publications, 2001), p.6
[31] Rubinstein, W.D., op. cit., p.11
[32] In the summer many women worked as flower-girls or hop and fruit
pickers in the south of England,
but during winter they would be forced to return to the streets of London: Cooper, S.F., op. cit.,
p.30
[33] Estimates of the number of prostitutes working in London during Queen Victoria’s reign, vary between 5,000 and
50,000 women: Cooper, S.F., op. cit., p.31
[37] The term “fallen women” referred to prostitutes, unmarried women
who engaged in sexual relations with men, victims of seduction, adulteresses,
as well as “variously delinquent lower class women”: Anderson, A., Tainted
Souls and Painted Faces: The Rhetoric of Fallenness in Victorian Culture,
(Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1993), p.2
[38] Anderson, A., op.
cit., p.4
[39] Rubinstein, W.D., op. cit., p.11
[40] George Bernard Shaw, quoted in Rumbelow, D., op. cit., p.50
[41] Haggard, R.F., op. cit., p.1
[47] Rumbelow, D., op. cit., p.49
[50] Rubinstein, W.D., op. cit., p.10
[51] Rumbelow, D., op. cit., p.93
[52] Ryder, S.P. (ed), “New York Times – 9 September 1888”, Casebook:
Jack the Ripper, 1996-2002 [Online], Available:
http://www.casebook.org/press_reports/new_york_times/nyt880909.html
[2002, Feb. 25]
[53] Ryder, S.P. (ed), “New York Sun – 10 November 1888”, Casebook: Jack the Ripper, 1996-2002
[Online], Available: http://www.casebook.org/press_reports/new_york_sun/nys881110.html
[2002, Feb. 25]
[54] Rumbelow, D., op. cit., p.118
[58] Walkowitz, J.R., op. cit., p.195
[61] Ryder, S.P. (ed), “New York Times – 9 September 1888”, Casebook:
Jack the Ripper, 1996-2002 [Online], Available:
http://www.casebook.org/press_reports/new_york_times/nyt880909.html
[2002, Feb. 25]
[63] Ryder, S.P. (ed), “New York Sun – 10 November 1888”, Casebook: Jack the Ripper, 1996-2002
[Online], Available: http://www.casebook.org/press_reports/new_york_sun/nys881110.html
[2002, Feb. 25]
[64] Ryder, S.P. (ed), “New York Times – 9 September 1888”, Casebook:
Jack the Ripper, 1996-2002 [Online], Available:
http://www.casebook.org/press_reports/new_york_times/nyt880909.html
[2002, Feb. 25]
[65] Ryder, S.P. (ed), “Times [London] – 10 November 1888”, Casebook: Jack the Ripper, 1996-2002
[Online], Available: http://www.casebook.org/press_reports/times_[london]/lt881110.html
[2002, Feb. 25]
[66] Rumbelow, D., op. cit., pp.128-130
[67] The first letter to be signed “Jack the Ripper’ is known as the
‘Dear Boss’ letter (posted 28 September 1888). The second was a postcard,
which gave details of ‘the double event’ before they were known (posted 30
September 1888). The third letter to be taken seriously was accompanied by a
piece of a kidney and is known as the ‘From Hell’ letter (received 16 October
1888).
[68] Walkowitz, J.R., op. cit., p.191
[72] “Jack the Ripper an Impressionist Artist?”, ABCNEWS.com,
2002 [Online], Available: http://abcnews.go.com/sections/primetime/DailyNews/pt_ripper_011206.html
[73] Rubinstein, W.D., op. cit., p.11
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