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MARTHA TABRAM (1849-1888)

Martha Tabram was a possible Ripper victim, though she is not listed as one of the five canonical victims. Her body was found early on the morning of Tuesday 7thAugust 1888 in George Yard, Whitechapel. She had received multiple stab wounds to the body, including some to vital organs such as the heart. As her murder is not mentioned in the Diary of Jack the Ripper, it is assumed the diarist is not claiming to have killed her.

Martha Tabram was born Martha White on 10th May 1849 in Southwark, London. Her father, Charles Samuel White, was a warehouseman. She married Henry Samuel Tabram at Trinity Church in St Mary’s Parish, Newington, on 25thDecember 1869. The couple had two children but separated in 1875 as a result of Martha’s heavy drinking. Henry Tabram paid his wife maintenance until around 1879 when he stopped the payments as he discovered she was living with another man named William Turner. Martha’s relationship with Turner also came under pressure due to her drinking. The last time Turner saw Martha alive was Saturday 4th August 1888, when they met on Leadenhall Street and he gave her some money. Martha was living at 19 George Street, Spitalfields, at the time.[1] 

On the evening of Bank Holiday Monday 6th August 1888, Martha Tabram went out drinking with Mary Ann Connolly, known as Pearly Poll. Connolly was a ‘big, masculine woman’ and an ‘unmarried prostitute.’[2] Connolly told the police that she and Tabram picked up two soldiers, a corporal and a private, and drank in various pubs before going to the White Swan in Whitechapel. At 11:45pm the group separated; Connolly went off with the corporal to have sexual intercourse in Angel Alley, while Tabram went off with the private to George Yard for sexual intercourse. George Yard was a narrow street connecting Wentworth Street and Whitechapel High Street. At 3:30am on Tuesday 8thAugust, a young man in his twenties named Alfred George Crow, left his room in the George Yard Building, a tenement block in George Yard, and went down the stairs. On the first-floor landing he saw a body and assumed it was someone sleeping there as it was such a poor area. At 4:50am, John Saunders Reeves left his room and saw the same person on the landing; however, in the early morning light, he saw the person was lying on her back in a pool of blood. He ran for a policeman who then sent him to fetch Dr Timothy Killeen who examined the body and determined the victim had died about 3:30am. Tabram had been ‘stabbed 39 times, her breasts, stomach, abdomen and vagina having been the target of the killer’s frenzied attack with what appeared to be an ordinary penknife. One wound, which had penetrated the sternum, could have been made with a dagger or sword bayonet.’[3]

The police investigation into the murder focused on trying to identify the soldier with whom Tabram had been with on the night she died. Mary Connolly attended an identity parade of Grenadier guards at the Tower of London for soldiers who had been on leave over the Bank Holiday weekend, but she did not recognise the private who had been with Tabram. She also attended an identity parade of Coldstream guards. This time she did identify two soldiers, but both had watertight alibis. As the murderer was never caught, it is difficult to say with any certainty whether Tabram was a victim of Jack the Ripper. Some writers on the murders do not consider her a Ripper victim as, unlike the later victims, Tabram’s throat was not cut and she hadn’t been eviscerated. Sir Melville Macnaghten in his memorandum on the Ripper killings, suggested that Tabram was most likely killed by the soldier she met on the night of her death. On the other hand, both Inspector Abberline and Sir Robert Anderson, felt she was a Ripper victim. Sugden wrote the case for Tabram being a victim of Jack the Ripper is ‘very strong.’[4] Begg and Bennett wrote the violent nature of the attack and the focus of the knife wounds, ‘indicate that this was not a casual killing. It had the look and feel of a Ripper crime, albeit one without the mutilation that would characterise later victims.’[5] In 2019, the British criminologist David Wilson helped present a BBC documentary on the Jack the Ripper murders. During the making of the programme he was able to ‘engage the services of trainers on HOLMES – the Home Office Large Major Enquiry System – which had been first developed in the wake of the murders committed by Peter Sutcliffe.’ Detailed information about the Tabram murder was run through the system and it established ‘definitively, that Martha Tabram was Jack’s first victim.’[6] Douglas, the FBI profiler, wrote that the ‘modus operandi evolves with the serial killer…often becoming more elaborate over time.’[7] It is therefore very possible that the murder of Tabram was an early Ripper killing. The murderer was still learning his heinous craft; thereafter, his crimes became increasingly more violent. 

One person who thinks Tabram was a Ripper victim is Philip Davies who argues Michael and not James Maybrick was the serial killer. He believes the murderer was obsessed with the name Emma and Martha Tabram was sometimes known as Emma Tabram. Davies also argues the Ripper’s obsession with funny little games, meant he had become a ‘dedicated cryptologist’ and Martha Tabram’s name included seven of the letters in Michael Maybrick’s name.[8] One obvious weakness in Davies’ argument is that the murder of Tabram is not included in the narrative of the Diary. If the diarist had been the killer, be he James or Michael Maybrick, then he surely would have written about the event. It is also unlikely that James Maybrick was in London over the Bank Holiday weekend when Tabram’s murder occurred. He and Florence had been in London the previous weekend. They had attended the Goodwood race meeting from 1st to 3rdAugust 1888 and had dined with John Baillie Knight at the Italian Exhibition in the capital.[9] It is therefore not likely he returned to London the following weekend and abandoned his children over the holiday period. 

[1] Begg P., Fido M and Skinner K., op cit., page 506.

[2] Ibid., page 105.

[3] Begg P., (2005) op cit., page 63.

[4] Sugden P., op cit., page 358.

[5] Begg P. and Bennett J., op cit., page 52.

[6] Wilson D., op cit., pages 31-32.

[7] Douglas J and Olshaker M., op cit., page 63.

[8] Davies P., op cit., page 90.

[9] HO 144/1638/A50678/D11.

THE TWENTIETH CENTURY MYSTERY

In March 1992, Michael Barrett, a retired scrap metal dealer from Liverpool, telephoned Doreen Montgomery, a leading figure in the Rupert Crew Literary Agency in London. He said his name was Williams and that he had Jack the Ripper’s Diary. The following month Barrett ‒ using his real name ‒ took the Diary to London and showed it to Montgomery and the writer, Shirley Harrison. 

The Diary measured approximately 11 by 8½ inches. It was hardbound in black cloth with black leather quarter binding, with seven bands of gold foil across the two-inch spine. It appeared that it might have originally been a scrapbook or a photograph album. The paper was largely of a good quality, and was well-preserved. The first 48 pages had been cut and torn out; there were 63 pages with handwriting on and 17 blank pages at the end. 

The Diary provided a graphic account of the murders of seven women, including the five canonical Ripper victims. Its author claimed he ‘was once a gentle man’ but had been driven to embark on his murderous campaign as a result of anger at his wife who was having an affair. It ended dramatically, with the infamous signature ‘Yours truly Jack the Ripper,’ and was dated ‘third of May 1889.’ From some of the references in the narrative the supposed author could be identified as James Maybrick, a Liverpool cotton merchant who had died in May 1889, some six months after the murder of Mary Kelly, who is usually regarded as the last of the Ripper’s victims.

Michael Barrett (1952-2016) told Montgomery and Harrison his story. He was a Liverpudlian who had held a variety of occupations, including working as a scrap metal dealer. In 1976, he married Anne Graham, and in 1981 they had a daughter named Caroline. Following an accident, Barrett became a house husband, looking after Caroline while Anne went to work as a secretary. In the early 1990s, the Barretts lived in Goldie Street, Kirkdale in Liverpool. Barrett would pick up his daughter from primary school in nearby Fountains Road. On the way he would stop off in the Saddle pub and have a drink with one of his friends, Tony Devereux, who had worked as a compositor on the Liverpool Echo. Barrett claimed that in May 1991, while he was visiting Devereux in his house, Tony gave him a brown paper parcel and told him to ‘do something with it.’ Barrett opened the parcel at home and found it contained the Diary. He had repeatedly quizzed Devereux about where he got the Diary from, but he would not answer his questions. In August 1991, Devereux died from a heart attack so was unable to substantiate the story told to Doreen Montgomery and Shirley Harrison. One of his daughters, Nancy Steele, said in May 2007 that no-one in her family had ever seen her father with the Diary, and they would have known if he had kept it for any length of time.[1]Harrison listened to Barrett and, ‘on the spur of the moment,’ decided to take the Diary to the nearby British Museum so an expert could view it.[2]A manuscript historian studied the document and said it looked authentic, but recommended it be scientifically tested. Harrison then took it to Jarndyce’s antiquarian bookshop, where the owner also felt it could be authentic but again recommended it should be scientifically tested. These positive comments on the Diary’s authenticity led Montgomery to draw up an agreement of collaboration between Harrison, Michael Barrett and his wife Anne, binding them ‘to share the responsibilities, expenses and royalties’ from any future book written about the Diary.[3]In June 1992, Robert Smith of the publishing company Smith Gryphon, made a successful bid to win the publishing rights for the Diary.

The biggest problem in accepting the Diary as the genuine journal of James Maybrick is its poor provenance. Since 1992, Barrett’s account of how he acquired the Diary has changed on several occasions. To make matters more confusing, Anne Graham (Barrett’s wife was to revert to her maiden name following their divorce) provided a different account of its origins. Their changing versions of events can only be understood by placing them in the context of the bitter breakup of their marriage. Anne had been reluctant in 1992 and 1993 to become involved in any discussions on the Diary’s provenance, or the production of Harrison’s book. She also refused to accept royalties from the book. She later claimed she had considered burning the Diary. Robert Smith suggests a possible explanation for Anne’s behaviour was she believed her husband had stolen the Diary and was ‘determined to distance herself from any criminal activity.’[4]As media speculation on the Diary’s origins reached fever pitch, the pressures on Barrett grew to breaking point and he started to drink excessively. This led to violent arguments. On Sunday 2nd January 1994, Anne left Barrett after he had assaulted her and left her unconscious. She took their daughter, Caroline, and never returned to Goldie Street. According to a letter Anne wrote to Paul Feldman in July 1995, she had endured years of abuse due mainly to her husband’s alcoholism.[5]

[1] Jones C., The Maybrick A to Z, (Countywise, Birkenhead, 2008) pages 122-123.

[2] Harrison S., The Diary of Jack the Ripper, (Blake, London, 1998) page 10.

[3] Linder S., Morris C. and Skinner K., Ripper Diary: The Inside Story, (Sutton, Stroud, 2003) page 9.

[4] Smith R., The True History of the Diary of Jack the Ripper, (Mango Books, London, 2019) page 14.

[5] Taken from an email to the authors of this book by Keith Skinner, 16th June 2020.