Chris Scott
07-06-2010, 06:22 AM
This article intrigued me, and I hadn't seen it before. It gives a detailed "profile" of the Ripper which is argued with reference to many aspects of the case. Although many of the alleged details called as evidence (the epilepsy, the unknown medic at the scene of one of the murders etc.) are unknown to me, I found the whole construct fascinating.
Also, for once, we have a named author - Walter McNulty. Do we know anything about him?
Maryland Sun
6 October 1888
WHITECHAPEL MURDERS
THE GREAT LONDON MYSTERY
INGENIOUS THEORY CONCERNING IT
Graphic Descriptions of the Scene of the Frightful Deeds - Horrible Methods Employed by the Unknown Slayer
(For the Baltimore Sun)
Not alone because of the inhuman horror of their conception, but because of the almost absolute certainty that they will be repeated before the discovery of their author, is the attention of the entire civilised world directed to the murders at Whitechapel.
I have long believed that no crime was so cunning, no plot so deep or mystery so profound that it did not carry within itself the elements of its own solution. In science causes are determined by examining each theory until one is hit upon that accounts for all the known effects; then it may reasonably be regarded as a law. Let us apply this sort of reasoning to these murders, and see what is the result.
First as to the locality. That part of Whitechapel in question is a district compared to which the worst slums of New York and vilest haunts of Chicago are Chautauque circles. There is no place exactly like it in America. It is given over to thousands of people destitute, debased and desperate in a sense Americans have no conception of: it is the bottom round: the last ditch: a horrible sewer for human refuse. When vice and disease have made women revolting and crime has made men afraid to walk the streets by day, they go to Whitechapel and it swallows them up.
It is packed with vast rookeries that swarm with life as decaying matter swarms with larvae, and among them wind crooked, unnamed streets, narrow, sinister, forbidding. Here and there are squalid dens where drink is sold, and these and thieving constitute the only two industries of the place.
Now then, in the heart of all this, in an area about equal to nine blocks in Baltimore, six murders have been committed, the details of which the public already known sufficiently well. The first question one naturally asks is: Does the murderer live in the locality? and there are three reasons for replying yes.
First: After the second and third murders the entire district was terrorized: new and suspicious people were closely watched: the streets were patrolled by hundreds of people looking for strange faces, and it would have been utterly impossible for a stranger to circulate at all, to say nothing of keeping himself posted as to the movements of the police, which this man certainly did.
Second: The mutilation of the bodies must have deluged the slayer in blood, and in that condition he could not have gone far upon the public thoroughfares without attracting attention; so it is safe to assume not only that he lives somewhere in the immediate vicinity, but that he has at hand prompt facilities for removing the stubborn stains of blood from his fingers. In the last murder (the double one) the corpses were discovered at intervals of only a few moments, and it was evident that the assassin had been frightened from the last one before completing his work of mutilation. Yet he had time to hunt his hole, wherever it was, and securely hide. It must have been hard by.
Third: If a stranger in Whitechapel, it is not likely that he would have ventured into it again after the general alarm was raised. It would have been simpler to select some other point where such vigilance did not prevail.
Considering that he is a resident, what manner of man is he? Insane? Of course; the crimes themselves are not compatible with sanity; but is he the regulation Whitechapel thug? No; he is a person well known, and inspiring some confidence, and the proof of it is that the fifth and sixth victims were beguiled by him into lonely hallways. When it is remembered that all of the abandoned women of the district were at that time in a state of extreme panic the striking character of the circumstances becomes apparent.
His method reveals still more. In every instance except one, where he was frightened away, the victim was first throttled, her throat then cut with one stroke, the abdominal cavity opened by two cross slashes, the intestines lifted out and a small internal organ carried off. The frightful deed was done rapidly, methodically, and, if the term might be used, scientifically, and all these indicate, in the strongest possible manner, an anatomical expert. Any surgeon will bear out the statement that it is a most difficult thing for a novice, working at his ease by the dissecting table, to locate and find internal organs; yet this man did it repeatedly, in the dark, consuming but a few moments, and at the instant and deadly peril of his life.
Moreover, he must have been hardened, so to speak, to the handling of the dead, for the mere fact of insanity does not enable a man to brave with impunity things terrifying or revolting to the normal mind. A maniac may slash a victim to death, but he does it in a frenzy of fear and horror unless there is something in his past history that has inured him to scenes of blood. So say all experts in insanity.
It is easy to see that he must be an abnormally strong man. It is a difficult thing to take human life suddenly. No animal is as hard to kill as man or makes such stubborn, long and desperate resistance. These murders were all done without a sound, without a sigh - in deadly silence. At the place where they were committed the slightest noise of a struggle or of a heavily falling body would have aroused attention and prompted a search. The most plausible, in fact the only explanation, is that he suddenly pinned the wretched victims by the throat and throttled them instantaneously, a feat requiring extraordinary strength. The accounts of the third and fourth murders speak of blood high up on the wall. Then he surely cut the throats while the women were standing, and as he could not well throttle and hold the knife with the same hand it is probable that he choked down all cries with the left, forcing back the victim's head, while with the right he severed the jugular. This attitude would account for the published statement that the cuts were lateral, beginning low on one side of the neck and ending up under the ear, which would be about the only way they could be inflicted. And it is thus evident that the man (did) this deed was not only very strong, but above the medium height, long armed and heavy handed.
To this must be added the unquestionable fact that he lives alone, for he would require privacy to remove the evidence of guilt, and while living alone would be a very paltry circumstance in Baltimore, it is almost enough to identify a man in Whitechapel. Privacy is unknown in that domain of degradation. Statistics show four and fraction to a room, counting every nook and cranny, and this man must not only live alone but under circumstances that excite no comment thereby.
Now, then, throw these deductions, drawn scrupulously from facts, into the camera and see what kind of a picture comes out.
A tall, strong man, with unusually large and powerful hands; a man who lives within stone's throw of the scene of the murders and of occupation that naturally permits and enables him to live alone; who is well known in that part of Whitechapel and is regarded with confidence and esteem; who has at his lodging the ready means of removing blood stains; who is familiar with the sight of the dead, and has a good knowledge of anatomy.
In brief, it is the picture of a practicing physician of the poorer quarters.
Such a figure is familiar yet notable in London. He is usually either a very young man or an old man with a shady record, for the struggle of practitioner is much sharper there than in the United States, owing to the great free dispensaries absorbing so much of the practice. His hardships are proverbial; more London doctors commit suicide than any other professional class; more go crazy than any two classes, and there is not a pawnshop in the metropolis but is full of books and instruments that have been pledged. There is no single requisite of the conclusions enumerated that such a man does not fill and there is absolutely no other character in the place that does. His profession would enable him to go about with impunity, and it may be that the women accosted him particularly if he was well liked by the miserable people by whom he was surrounded. He would have privacy, he could procure a suitable knife without exciting suspicion and he would have the necessary anatomical knowledge.
This theory once arrived at, many peculiar things point that way. For instance, in the third and fifth cases the telegrams mention incidentally that there were sick people in adjoining houses, but that those caring for them heard no noise. It would be interesting to know if a physician had been recently in the vicinity attending these sick and, if so, who that physician was. In the last case, where the corpse was discovered hot from the hands of the murderer, the telegrams state that "a doctor happened to be near by, but pronounced life extinct." Who was that doctor, and what was he doing there? In the fourth case it was said that the woman had newly come to the neighborhood, and had been treated for epilepsy. Who treated her? Whoever did could certainly have accosted her upon the street without exciting her alarm. Again, in the first case (quoting cable) "nobody knew the woman except an apothecary who had given her medicine." Apothecaries practice medicine in England, and apothecary and doctor are to some extent interchangeable terms. Who, by all means, was this drug dispenser who knew the ill fated woman? If he is found to be the man who treated the other woman's epilepsy and who pronounced the last victim dead, and if perchance he turn out to be the physician in attendance near the scenes of the third and fifth atrocities, then seize him and put on the cuffs, for he knows more about this bloody business than any other human being above the earth.
What prompted him? That is the secret of a madman's brain and past unravelling, but my opinion, from some observation, is that he will be found to be outwardly a quiet, rather correct man, keeping strictly to himself, but well liked by his neighbors.
WALTER A. MCNULTY.
Also, for once, we have a named author - Walter McNulty. Do we know anything about him?
Maryland Sun
6 October 1888
WHITECHAPEL MURDERS
THE GREAT LONDON MYSTERY
INGENIOUS THEORY CONCERNING IT
Graphic Descriptions of the Scene of the Frightful Deeds - Horrible Methods Employed by the Unknown Slayer
(For the Baltimore Sun)
Not alone because of the inhuman horror of their conception, but because of the almost absolute certainty that they will be repeated before the discovery of their author, is the attention of the entire civilised world directed to the murders at Whitechapel.
I have long believed that no crime was so cunning, no plot so deep or mystery so profound that it did not carry within itself the elements of its own solution. In science causes are determined by examining each theory until one is hit upon that accounts for all the known effects; then it may reasonably be regarded as a law. Let us apply this sort of reasoning to these murders, and see what is the result.
First as to the locality. That part of Whitechapel in question is a district compared to which the worst slums of New York and vilest haunts of Chicago are Chautauque circles. There is no place exactly like it in America. It is given over to thousands of people destitute, debased and desperate in a sense Americans have no conception of: it is the bottom round: the last ditch: a horrible sewer for human refuse. When vice and disease have made women revolting and crime has made men afraid to walk the streets by day, they go to Whitechapel and it swallows them up.
It is packed with vast rookeries that swarm with life as decaying matter swarms with larvae, and among them wind crooked, unnamed streets, narrow, sinister, forbidding. Here and there are squalid dens where drink is sold, and these and thieving constitute the only two industries of the place.
Now then, in the heart of all this, in an area about equal to nine blocks in Baltimore, six murders have been committed, the details of which the public already known sufficiently well. The first question one naturally asks is: Does the murderer live in the locality? and there are three reasons for replying yes.
First: After the second and third murders the entire district was terrorized: new and suspicious people were closely watched: the streets were patrolled by hundreds of people looking for strange faces, and it would have been utterly impossible for a stranger to circulate at all, to say nothing of keeping himself posted as to the movements of the police, which this man certainly did.
Second: The mutilation of the bodies must have deluged the slayer in blood, and in that condition he could not have gone far upon the public thoroughfares without attracting attention; so it is safe to assume not only that he lives somewhere in the immediate vicinity, but that he has at hand prompt facilities for removing the stubborn stains of blood from his fingers. In the last murder (the double one) the corpses were discovered at intervals of only a few moments, and it was evident that the assassin had been frightened from the last one before completing his work of mutilation. Yet he had time to hunt his hole, wherever it was, and securely hide. It must have been hard by.
Third: If a stranger in Whitechapel, it is not likely that he would have ventured into it again after the general alarm was raised. It would have been simpler to select some other point where such vigilance did not prevail.
Considering that he is a resident, what manner of man is he? Insane? Of course; the crimes themselves are not compatible with sanity; but is he the regulation Whitechapel thug? No; he is a person well known, and inspiring some confidence, and the proof of it is that the fifth and sixth victims were beguiled by him into lonely hallways. When it is remembered that all of the abandoned women of the district were at that time in a state of extreme panic the striking character of the circumstances becomes apparent.
His method reveals still more. In every instance except one, where he was frightened away, the victim was first throttled, her throat then cut with one stroke, the abdominal cavity opened by two cross slashes, the intestines lifted out and a small internal organ carried off. The frightful deed was done rapidly, methodically, and, if the term might be used, scientifically, and all these indicate, in the strongest possible manner, an anatomical expert. Any surgeon will bear out the statement that it is a most difficult thing for a novice, working at his ease by the dissecting table, to locate and find internal organs; yet this man did it repeatedly, in the dark, consuming but a few moments, and at the instant and deadly peril of his life.
Moreover, he must have been hardened, so to speak, to the handling of the dead, for the mere fact of insanity does not enable a man to brave with impunity things terrifying or revolting to the normal mind. A maniac may slash a victim to death, but he does it in a frenzy of fear and horror unless there is something in his past history that has inured him to scenes of blood. So say all experts in insanity.
It is easy to see that he must be an abnormally strong man. It is a difficult thing to take human life suddenly. No animal is as hard to kill as man or makes such stubborn, long and desperate resistance. These murders were all done without a sound, without a sigh - in deadly silence. At the place where they were committed the slightest noise of a struggle or of a heavily falling body would have aroused attention and prompted a search. The most plausible, in fact the only explanation, is that he suddenly pinned the wretched victims by the throat and throttled them instantaneously, a feat requiring extraordinary strength. The accounts of the third and fourth murders speak of blood high up on the wall. Then he surely cut the throats while the women were standing, and as he could not well throttle and hold the knife with the same hand it is probable that he choked down all cries with the left, forcing back the victim's head, while with the right he severed the jugular. This attitude would account for the published statement that the cuts were lateral, beginning low on one side of the neck and ending up under the ear, which would be about the only way they could be inflicted. And it is thus evident that the man (did) this deed was not only very strong, but above the medium height, long armed and heavy handed.
To this must be added the unquestionable fact that he lives alone, for he would require privacy to remove the evidence of guilt, and while living alone would be a very paltry circumstance in Baltimore, it is almost enough to identify a man in Whitechapel. Privacy is unknown in that domain of degradation. Statistics show four and fraction to a room, counting every nook and cranny, and this man must not only live alone but under circumstances that excite no comment thereby.
Now, then, throw these deductions, drawn scrupulously from facts, into the camera and see what kind of a picture comes out.
A tall, strong man, with unusually large and powerful hands; a man who lives within stone's throw of the scene of the murders and of occupation that naturally permits and enables him to live alone; who is well known in that part of Whitechapel and is regarded with confidence and esteem; who has at his lodging the ready means of removing blood stains; who is familiar with the sight of the dead, and has a good knowledge of anatomy.
In brief, it is the picture of a practicing physician of the poorer quarters.
Such a figure is familiar yet notable in London. He is usually either a very young man or an old man with a shady record, for the struggle of practitioner is much sharper there than in the United States, owing to the great free dispensaries absorbing so much of the practice. His hardships are proverbial; more London doctors commit suicide than any other professional class; more go crazy than any two classes, and there is not a pawnshop in the metropolis but is full of books and instruments that have been pledged. There is no single requisite of the conclusions enumerated that such a man does not fill and there is absolutely no other character in the place that does. His profession would enable him to go about with impunity, and it may be that the women accosted him particularly if he was well liked by the miserable people by whom he was surrounded. He would have privacy, he could procure a suitable knife without exciting suspicion and he would have the necessary anatomical knowledge.
This theory once arrived at, many peculiar things point that way. For instance, in the third and fifth cases the telegrams mention incidentally that there were sick people in adjoining houses, but that those caring for them heard no noise. It would be interesting to know if a physician had been recently in the vicinity attending these sick and, if so, who that physician was. In the last case, where the corpse was discovered hot from the hands of the murderer, the telegrams state that "a doctor happened to be near by, but pronounced life extinct." Who was that doctor, and what was he doing there? In the fourth case it was said that the woman had newly come to the neighborhood, and had been treated for epilepsy. Who treated her? Whoever did could certainly have accosted her upon the street without exciting her alarm. Again, in the first case (quoting cable) "nobody knew the woman except an apothecary who had given her medicine." Apothecaries practice medicine in England, and apothecary and doctor are to some extent interchangeable terms. Who, by all means, was this drug dispenser who knew the ill fated woman? If he is found to be the man who treated the other woman's epilepsy and who pronounced the last victim dead, and if perchance he turn out to be the physician in attendance near the scenes of the third and fifth atrocities, then seize him and put on the cuffs, for he knows more about this bloody business than any other human being above the earth.
What prompted him? That is the secret of a madman's brain and past unravelling, but my opinion, from some observation, is that he will be found to be outwardly a quiet, rather correct man, keeping strictly to himself, but well liked by his neighbors.
WALTER A. MCNULTY.