Showing posts with label Whitechapel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Whitechapel. Show all posts

Sunday, 30 September 2018

The Murders on the Ratcliffe Highway: London, December 1811

In December 1811, London was horrified by two murderous attacks on families in Wapping district within twelve days, claiming seven lives. Wapping was then a major port area full of docks and warehouses, businesses catering to the seafaring trade and sailors, full of low taverns, and brothels. It was a derelict and often violent neighbourhood, but it had never experienced anything like what happened in 1811.

The first attack took place on December 7, at 29 Ratcliffe Highway (now known as The Highway). The victims were three members of the Marr family and an apprentice who lived in a flat behind the Marr's linen draper’s shop. 


At sometime around midnight, an intruder entered the home and brutally bludgeoned to death Timothy Marr, his wife Celia, their four weeks old son, and the apprentice, James Gowan. A blood-stained maul (pictured below) found on the premises with the initials JP or IP was assumed to be the murder weapon. The Thames River Police investigated but could discover neither motive nor suspects.


On December 19, a second murderous attack took place nearby at the King’s Arms, a tavern at 81 New Gravel Lane (now Garnet Street). After a constable had heard cries of “Murder!” a crowd gathered at the premises, where they found a lodger, John Turner, descending from an upper floor using a rope of knotted sheets. 


Turner was crying and nearly incoherent. Inside, the crowd discovered the bodies of the owner, John Williamson, his wife Elizabeth, and a servant, Bridget Harrington. Their skulls were crushed and throats cut. In a bedroom upstairs, they found the Williamson’s fourteen-year-old granddaughter fast asleep. Amazingly, she had heard nothing. Turner said he had been awoken by cries of murder. He claimed to have seen a man downstairs before fleeing out the window. The man Turner described was tall and stocky.


Bow Street Runners and constables from other districts joined the investigation after the second attack. (London did not have a centralized, professional police force until 1829). The press and a panicked public were clamouring for a quick arrest of the killer(s). Within a few days, the police arrested three men as suspects. One of them, a sailor named John Williams (or Murphy) was a lodger at a Wapping public house, The Pear Tree. (Image: John Williams, post-mortem sketch).


On December 24, the investigators learned from another lodger that the maul found at Marr’s shop belonged to a third lodger, John Peterson, who was at sea, and that Williams could easily have had access to it. Other discoveries led them to focus on him. Four days later, Williams hanged himself in his cell. The courts quickly ruled him the murderer. But curiously, he did not fit Turner’s description of the man he had seen in the King's Arms. Williams was slender in build and of medium height. All the evidence against him was circumstantial.

Home Secretary Richard Ryder, elated by the “solution” of the case, ordered William’s body to be publicly paraded through the streets of Wapping, and buried at the crossroads of New Road (now Commercial Road) and Cannon Street Road. The aim was to reassure the public that the murderer was indeed dead. On New Year’s Eve, the body was removed from the prison on a cart and followed by a huge procession estimated to be around 180,000 persons. The procession was the subject of many contemporary images.




The marchers stopped before the houses of the victims before proceeding to the intersection named. A stake was driven through William's heart and he was placed in an already dug grave. At the time, suicides could not be buried in consecrated (church) ground and the stake was supposed to prevent his soul from wandering.  

Debate continues today about whether Williams was indeed the killer, or merely the unfortunate scapegoat of authorities eager to appease the public clamor and panic. Other suspects have been considered, but the true identity of the Ratcliffe Highway Murderer remains a mystery, much like the identity of the Whitechapel Murderer, Jack the Ripper.

Further Reading: T.A. Critchley and P. D. James, The Maul and the Pear Tree: The Ratcliffe Highway Murders, 1811. London, 1971.

Friday, 26 January 2018

London's Georgian Hospitals

During the Georgian period (1714-1830) London witnessed a great expansion of hospital facilities. This article examines a few of the more famous, some of which continue to operate today, though sometimes in different locations and with greatly expanded functions. 

In 1721 Thomas Guy, who had made a fortune in the South Sea Bubble, founded Guy's Hospital in Southwark, near London Bridge. He established it to care for "incurables" discharged from nearby much older St. Thomas' Hospital , of which he was a governor. 

The St. Thomas governors supported Guy's project by granting him the south side of St. Thomas' Street at a tiny rent for 999 years. St. Thomas' moved from the area to Lambeth, south of Westminster Bridge, in 1871 but Guy's remains in its original location. It has long since expanded greatly in size and remit, and is a major teaching hospital. (Below: Guy's, @1830)


One of the early specialist hospitals, besides the much older Bethlem Hospital for Lunatics, was founded in 1747 by surgeon William Blomfield: the London Lock Hospital for the treatment of syphilis and other venereal diseases. It was originally located near Hyde Park Corner, in Grosvenor Place. It later moved to other premises and developed maternity and gynecological services and other facilities before closing in 1952. The name "lock" derives from earlier leper hospitals. "Locks" were rags used to cover the lepers' skin lesions. (Below: Lock Hospital, mid-18th century)



St. George's Hospital, now in Tooting, was originally located at Lanesborough House, Hyde Park Corner, on its founding in 1733. In 1800, the original structure was demolished and replaced by a larger building designed by William Wilkins (below). 



Today, St. George's is one of the major teaching hospitals in the UK. The renowned and controversial surgeon-anatomist John Hunter served as head surgeon at the hospital in the late 18th century. Read about Hunter here: http://mycandles.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/lopping-them-off-in-leicester-square.html


In 1739, sea Captain Thomas Coram founded Britain's first hospital for abandoned children, the Foundling Hospital. It is believed to be the first incorporated charity. It was located at Lamb's Conduit Fields (now Coram's Fields) in Bloomsbury, and counted William Hogarth, Joshua Reynolds, Thomas Gainsborough, and George Frideric Handel among its benefactors. Among other contributions, Hogarth painted Coram's portrait for the hospital. 



The Foundling Hospital was actually an orphanage, with "hospital" used in its ancient sense of hospitality, but medical care of the children was a major function. It moved to the countryside in the early 20th century, and with the shift to adoption and foster care in the 1950's ceased most of its institutional operations. its heritage survives today in Coram, a Children's Charity. 



Another major Georgian foundation that continues to function today is the London Hospital, Whitechapel, founded in 1740, now the Royal London. It was established to fill a void: none of the existing hospitals were located in the less fashionable east side of London. Today it is a large teaching hospital. (Below: two images of the hospital building opened in the 1750's.)