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I have posted this on also on the Witness Thread because it concerns Detective Sergeant Stephen White, , but I also feel it should be included here.
Did a police officer see Thompson leaving a murder scene right after the 2nd of the double murders?
A police officer’s description of Jack the Ripper when he encountered him just after the second of the double murders on September 30th is a perfect match for the English poet and writer, Francis Thompson. (1859-1907). An article that appeared in the ‘People’s Journal’ after the turn of the century, from a Scotland Yard man, told of a meeting between a Dr. Robert Anderson and Detective Sergeant Stephen White, (Born 1854 Died 1919, warrant number 59442). It is said that White’s report may have led Dr Anderson to suspect that others knew the identity of the killer. Dr Robert Anderson, Later Sir Anderson, was the Assistant Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police and in charge of the Whitechapel Murder investigation from October 6th 1888 until the file was closed in 1892.
Detective White had been assigned to the recently formed Special Branch. White's duties involved the detection of political terrorists. The ‘People’s Journal’ tells that at approximately 1:45 AM on the 30th of September 1888 Detective Sergeant Stephen, aged 34, stood in wait for the killer.
It was Detective White’s normal duties in this maze of slums to capture members of political organizations such as the Anarchists, Fenians, and Dynamitards. His being assigned indicates the pressing need to catch the killer. It seem that White had been placed on duty because of suspicions that terrorists were behind the Ripper murders with the aim to weaken the English establishment and government.
Evidently Detective White had been assigned a covert operation overseeing with two other officers, one possibly being, Amos Simpson of N, in what was probably Mitre Square, this area in Whitechapel, then Imperial Club premises, where suspected terrorists were said to gather. White lay in watch in a district patrolled by the City Police and consequently not in his jurisdiction, he could not afford to expose himself and his men unless he was certain that he would capture the killer.
White’s magazine account, published in 1919, just over a week after his death, had him tell his close encounter with who was possible the murderer. White was on duty on the 30th September 1888. Sergeant Inspector Abberline had sent White, with PC Dolen to Berner street , to enquire house-to-house about the murder of Elizabeth, the first of two women killed in the very early hours that morning.
White’s account is usually discredited because he was not called as a witness to any murder enquiry and because he incorrectly stated that the murder site was a cul-de-sac. None of the two September 30th murder sites, apart from possibly the gateway where Stride’s body was found, were dead ends. Mitre Square, for example, where Eddowe’s body was found, had three exits. There was Mitre passage, leading west to Mitre Street. Another dark covered passage that led north to St. James Place. The third exit, leading east, was a passage to Duke Street. This was covered with windows above it. We should consider, though when, we look at Mitre Square from the killer’s viewpoint, may have indeed been a cul-de-sac. There was only one guaranteed escape route. Mitre Passage and the passage to Duke Street, were both on the route of patrolling police officers. Each officer would return to mitre square every quarter of an hour or so, carrying a lamp. The two officers had different routes, that overlapped at Mitre Square at different times. The murderer, who may have reconnoitred the site earlier, observing their beats, would have seen that Duke Street to the north was unpatrolled. The murderer may have already planned to take the north exit, thinking it was empty. One could only imagine the Ripper’s surprise to find a man in plainclothes, lurking in the dark.
Francis Thompson, a Ripper suspect, may have known these routes officers made at night, on these streets because he had slept mostly on the streets of the East End, for almost three years. By 1888 he had trained in human dissection for six years. He had just had a terrible argument with a prostitute lover, who after threatening to leave him, diapered. He was carrying a dissecting scalpel. This was mainly next to Whitechapel in the Limehouse district. Although homeless, on three rare occasions, Thompson acquired enough money to buy fresh clothes and a coat. On September 30, Francis Thompson was aged 29, though his living conditions might have made him appear older. He was around 175cms in height and his slim build was shown in his fingers that were long and tapering. An associate of his, Mr Wilfrid Whitten, of the “Academy” magazine, gave a description of Francis Thompson a few years after 1888.
'when he opened his lips he spoke as a gentleman and a scholar...His great brown[Inverness] cape...nondescript garb...a basket slung over his shoulder on a strap a strange object his fish - basket, we called it...the bulky cape...His low voice had a peculiar quaver, a slight wobble in tone, that empathized its curiously measured cadence.'
Thompson's sister, Mary, described her brother, before 1888, starting and ending with the unusual appearance of his eyes,
'A dark grey with a bluish shade in them - something like the shade one sees in mountain lakes. Full of intelligence and light. His hair was very dark brown, so dark as to appear almost black at first sight. His complexion was sallow rather than pale, drawing further attention to his eyes.'
Here is Sergeant Stephen White’s description of his encounter with Jack the Ripper, and possibly Francis Thompson.
‘For five nights we had been watching a certain alleyway just behind the Whitechapel road. It could only be entered from where we had two men posted in hiding, and persons entering the ally were under observation by the two men. It was a bitter cold night when I arrived at the scene to take the report of the two men in hiding. I was turning away when I saw a man coming out of the alley. He was walking quickly but noiselessly, apparently wearing rubber shoes which were rather rare in those days. I stood aside to let the man pass, and as he came under the wall lamp I got a good look at him. He was about 5 feet 10 inches in height, and was dressed rather shabbily though it was obvious that the material of his clothes was good. Evidently a man who had seen better days, I thought but men who have seen better days are common enough down east, and that of itself was not sufficient to justify me in stopping him. His face was long and thin, nostrils rather delicate and his hair was jet black. His complexion was inclined to be sallow, and altogether the man was foreign in appearance. The most striking thing about him, however, was the extraordinary appearance of his eyes. They looked like two luminous glow worms coming through the darkness. The man was slightly bent at the shoulders, though he was obviously quite young – about 33 at the most – and gave one the idea of having been a student or professional man. His hands were snow white, and the fingers long and tapering. As he passed me at the lamp I had an uneasy feeling that there was something more than usually sinister about him, and I was strongly moved to find some pretext for detaining him; but the more I thought it over, the more I was forced to the conclusion that it was not in keeping with British police methods that I should do so. My only excuse for interfering with the passage of this man would have been his association with the man we were looking for, and I had no grounds for connecting him with the murder. It is true that I had a sort of intuition that the man was not quite right. Still, if one acted on intuition in the police force, there would be more frequent outcries about interference with the liberty of the subject, and at that time the police were criticized enough to make it undesirable to take risks. The man stumbled a few feet away from me, and I made that an excuse for engaging him in conversation. He turned sharply at the sound of my voice, and scowled at me in surly fashion, but he said ‘Goodnight’ and agreed with me that it was cold. His voice was a surprise to me. It was soft and musical, with just a tinge of melancholy in it, and it was the voice of a man of culture- a voice altogether out of keeping with the squalid surroundings of the East End. As he turned away, one of the police officers came out of the house he had been in, and walked a few paces into the darkness of the alley. ‘Hello! What is this?’ he cried, and then called in startled tones for me to come along. In the East End we are used to shocking sights but the sight I saw made the blood in my veins turn to ice. At the end of the cul-de-sac huddled against the wall, there was the body of a woman, and a pool of blood was streaming along the gutter from her body. It was clearly another of those terrible murders. I remembered the man I had seen, and I started after him as fast as I could run, but he was lost to sight in the dark labyrinth of East End mean streets.’
Richard Patterson.
Did a police officer see Thompson leaving a murder scene right after the 2nd of the double murders?
A police officer’s description of Jack the Ripper when he encountered him just after the second of the double murders on September 30th is a perfect match for the English poet and writer, Francis Thompson. (1859-1907). An article that appeared in the ‘People’s Journal’ after the turn of the century, from a Scotland Yard man, told of a meeting between a Dr. Robert Anderson and Detective Sergeant Stephen White, (Born 1854 Died 1919, warrant number 59442). It is said that White’s report may have led Dr Anderson to suspect that others knew the identity of the killer. Dr Robert Anderson, Later Sir Anderson, was the Assistant Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police and in charge of the Whitechapel Murder investigation from October 6th 1888 until the file was closed in 1892.
Detective White had been assigned to the recently formed Special Branch. White's duties involved the detection of political terrorists. The ‘People’s Journal’ tells that at approximately 1:45 AM on the 30th of September 1888 Detective Sergeant Stephen, aged 34, stood in wait for the killer.
It was Detective White’s normal duties in this maze of slums to capture members of political organizations such as the Anarchists, Fenians, and Dynamitards. His being assigned indicates the pressing need to catch the killer. It seem that White had been placed on duty because of suspicions that terrorists were behind the Ripper murders with the aim to weaken the English establishment and government.
Evidently Detective White had been assigned a covert operation overseeing with two other officers, one possibly being, Amos Simpson of N, in what was probably Mitre Square, this area in Whitechapel, then Imperial Club premises, where suspected terrorists were said to gather. White lay in watch in a district patrolled by the City Police and consequently not in his jurisdiction, he could not afford to expose himself and his men unless he was certain that he would capture the killer.
White’s magazine account, published in 1919, just over a week after his death, had him tell his close encounter with who was possible the murderer. White was on duty on the 30th September 1888. Sergeant Inspector Abberline had sent White, with PC Dolen to Berner street , to enquire house-to-house about the murder of Elizabeth, the first of two women killed in the very early hours that morning.
White’s account is usually discredited because he was not called as a witness to any murder enquiry and because he incorrectly stated that the murder site was a cul-de-sac. None of the two September 30th murder sites, apart from possibly the gateway where Stride’s body was found, were dead ends. Mitre Square, for example, where Eddowe’s body was found, had three exits. There was Mitre passage, leading west to Mitre Street. Another dark covered passage that led north to St. James Place. The third exit, leading east, was a passage to Duke Street. This was covered with windows above it. We should consider, though when, we look at Mitre Square from the killer’s viewpoint, may have indeed been a cul-de-sac. There was only one guaranteed escape route. Mitre Passage and the passage to Duke Street, were both on the route of patrolling police officers. Each officer would return to mitre square every quarter of an hour or so, carrying a lamp. The two officers had different routes, that overlapped at Mitre Square at different times. The murderer, who may have reconnoitred the site earlier, observing their beats, would have seen that Duke Street to the north was unpatrolled. The murderer may have already planned to take the north exit, thinking it was empty. One could only imagine the Ripper’s surprise to find a man in plainclothes, lurking in the dark.
Francis Thompson, a Ripper suspect, may have known these routes officers made at night, on these streets because he had slept mostly on the streets of the East End, for almost three years. By 1888 he had trained in human dissection for six years. He had just had a terrible argument with a prostitute lover, who after threatening to leave him, diapered. He was carrying a dissecting scalpel. This was mainly next to Whitechapel in the Limehouse district. Although homeless, on three rare occasions, Thompson acquired enough money to buy fresh clothes and a coat. On September 30, Francis Thompson was aged 29, though his living conditions might have made him appear older. He was around 175cms in height and his slim build was shown in his fingers that were long and tapering. An associate of his, Mr Wilfrid Whitten, of the “Academy” magazine, gave a description of Francis Thompson a few years after 1888.
'when he opened his lips he spoke as a gentleman and a scholar...His great brown[Inverness] cape...nondescript garb...a basket slung over his shoulder on a strap a strange object his fish - basket, we called it...the bulky cape...His low voice had a peculiar quaver, a slight wobble in tone, that empathized its curiously measured cadence.'
Thompson's sister, Mary, described her brother, before 1888, starting and ending with the unusual appearance of his eyes,
'A dark grey with a bluish shade in them - something like the shade one sees in mountain lakes. Full of intelligence and light. His hair was very dark brown, so dark as to appear almost black at first sight. His complexion was sallow rather than pale, drawing further attention to his eyes.'
Here is Sergeant Stephen White’s description of his encounter with Jack the Ripper, and possibly Francis Thompson.
‘For five nights we had been watching a certain alleyway just behind the Whitechapel road. It could only be entered from where we had two men posted in hiding, and persons entering the ally were under observation by the two men. It was a bitter cold night when I arrived at the scene to take the report of the two men in hiding. I was turning away when I saw a man coming out of the alley. He was walking quickly but noiselessly, apparently wearing rubber shoes which were rather rare in those days. I stood aside to let the man pass, and as he came under the wall lamp I got a good look at him. He was about 5 feet 10 inches in height, and was dressed rather shabbily though it was obvious that the material of his clothes was good. Evidently a man who had seen better days, I thought but men who have seen better days are common enough down east, and that of itself was not sufficient to justify me in stopping him. His face was long and thin, nostrils rather delicate and his hair was jet black. His complexion was inclined to be sallow, and altogether the man was foreign in appearance. The most striking thing about him, however, was the extraordinary appearance of his eyes. They looked like two luminous glow worms coming through the darkness. The man was slightly bent at the shoulders, though he was obviously quite young – about 33 at the most – and gave one the idea of having been a student or professional man. His hands were snow white, and the fingers long and tapering. As he passed me at the lamp I had an uneasy feeling that there was something more than usually sinister about him, and I was strongly moved to find some pretext for detaining him; but the more I thought it over, the more I was forced to the conclusion that it was not in keeping with British police methods that I should do so. My only excuse for interfering with the passage of this man would have been his association with the man we were looking for, and I had no grounds for connecting him with the murder. It is true that I had a sort of intuition that the man was not quite right. Still, if one acted on intuition in the police force, there would be more frequent outcries about interference with the liberty of the subject, and at that time the police were criticized enough to make it undesirable to take risks. The man stumbled a few feet away from me, and I made that an excuse for engaging him in conversation. He turned sharply at the sound of my voice, and scowled at me in surly fashion, but he said ‘Goodnight’ and agreed with me that it was cold. His voice was a surprise to me. It was soft and musical, with just a tinge of melancholy in it, and it was the voice of a man of culture- a voice altogether out of keeping with the squalid surroundings of the East End. As he turned away, one of the police officers came out of the house he had been in, and walked a few paces into the darkness of the alley. ‘Hello! What is this?’ he cried, and then called in startled tones for me to come along. In the East End we are used to shocking sights but the sight I saw made the blood in my veins turn to ice. At the end of the cul-de-sac huddled against the wall, there was the body of a woman, and a pool of blood was streaming along the gutter from her body. It was clearly another of those terrible murders. I remembered the man I had seen, and I started after him as fast as I could run, but he was lost to sight in the dark labyrinth of East End mean streets.’
Richard Patterson.