On the 31st of August 1888, just before 3:40 am, a carman (or carriageman), Charles Cross, was on his way to work along Bucks Row. This dark thoroughfare was lined by two-storey houses and imposing warehouses on either side. He noticed what appeared to be a bundle of clothing on the floor in a gateway. He bent to inspect it and found it to be a woman. As he inspected the woman, another carman, Robert Paul, approached and Cross pointed out the body. They both believed her to be alive as they thought they had felt a movement as if she were breathing. They pulled her skirts down to cover her lower body and left, with the intention of telling a Policeman should they pass one. They must have just missed P.C Neil who was walking his beat along Bucks Row at 3:45 am and shone his lantern onto the figure lay in the gateway. He noticed blood oozing from a deep gash in her throat. He was joined on the scene moments later by P.C Thain, who then went to fetch local surgeon Dr Ralph Llewellyn.
Upon Llewellyn’s arrival at a little after 4am, he pronounced life to be extinct and began to examine the body. He noted that the legs were still warm, suggesting that she had been dead for little more than half an hour. The Police already at the scene were slowly being joined by more and more spectators from the surrounding warehouses and slaughterhouses, with a macabre eagerness to see the grizzly remains. Llewellyn ordered the Police to remove the body to the mortuary, and at this point, a local resident washed the congealed blood away from the gateway.
The mortuary photograph of Mary Nichols.
By the time the senior officer, Inspector John Sprattling, arrived at the scene, there was little evidence for him to examine, save for a few bloodstains between the paving stones. He made his way to the mortuary to examine the body, and made a detailed description of the deceased. He lifted the woman’s clothing and made a horrific discovery. Her abdomen had been ripped open. Her throat had been slit twice from left to right with several other incisions to her abdomen.
On examining her clothes, they discovered the mark of the Lambeth Workhouse on one of her petticoats. This led them to Ann Monk who was a resident of the workhouse, and who identified the victim as Mary Ann Nichols, also known as Polly. They then traced Mary’s father Edward Walker and her estranged husband, William Nichols, who both confirmed her identity.
On the 30th of August, Nichols had been observed walking the Whitechapel Road, and at 00:30 had been seen leaving a pub on Brick Lane. She was then turned out of a lodging house on Thrawl Street as she did not have the fourpence to pay for a bed. She told the keeper that she would easily make the doss money, adding “See what a jolly bonnet i’m wearing.” She obviously believed her new bonnet would be an irresistible allure to potential customers. She was last seen on the corner of Osborn Street and Whitechapel Road at 2:30, an hour before her death, by Nelly Holland. Mary told her that she had made enough money to pay for a bed twice over (evidently from prostitution) but had drunk it all away. Nelly tried to persuade her to come back to the lodging house with her, but Mary refused, and staggered off into the night.
Bucks Row / Durward Street where Mary was found
Mary was 43 at the time of her murder, 5 feet 2 inches tall with grey eyes and greying dark hair. She had married her estranged husband William Nichols in1864 and they had 5 children together. Mary’s drinking became too much for her husband to stand however, and they separated in 1880. William had custody of the children, but provided her with an allowance of five shillings per week, which he withdrew when he discovered that she had been working as a prostitute. Having identified his wifes body at the mortuary, he emerged visibly shaking and said “…it has come to a sad end at last.”
Jack had claimed his first victim.
Next time, Jack’s reign of terror continues with the murder of Annie Chapman.