8
« on: March 14, 2026, 04:42:10 am »
CHAPTER 1
THE ORIGINAL ACCOUNT OF THE CRIME AND CRIME SCENE
Instead of blue-penciling the small and not-so small mistakes found in this report, this New York Evening World reporter's on-site description
of the room is still worthwhile as a reference in consideration that it goes into detail as to the condition of the room, the victim, and other relevant matters.
It is also an important artifact within the case's history and unless I'm mistaken was the first newspaper report of the murder that was ever published.
Reproduced as it appeared, misspelled words included.
New York Evening World
April 24, 1891
A RIPPER!
A Woman Barbarously Slaughtered In The East River Hotel.
Strangled First And Then Hacked And Disemboweled.
A Cross Cut On Her Back After She Was Dead.
She Was Taken To The Hotel By A Supposed Greek or Italian.
The Murder Committed Some Time During The Night.
A Description Of The Murder In The Hands Of The Police
[[ An atrocious crime, as horrible in its details as any of the Whitechapel atrocities of Jack the Ripper,
came to light this morning in the East River Hotel, at 14 Catherine Slip.
The victim is an old woman sixty years of age, well known as a vagrant and streetwalker in that locality.
Her murderer, who escaped before the crime was discovered, is supposed to be a young man about thirty-five years of age, who hired the room with the woman late last night.
His name is unknown, but the one he gave to the bartender of the hotel when he came in with the woman, is C. Kniclo.
He is about thirty-five years of age and is supposed to be either a Greek or an Italian.
The body of the old woman was found lying on the bed in the room about 9 o'clock this morning.
It was shockingly cut and mutilated, apparently with some dull instrument.
The body was completely naked. A deep gash extended from the lower part of the abdomen upward to the breast, which disemboweled it completely.
The entrails had apparently been torn from the body and were scattered over the bed.
There were also two deep cuts crossing each other on the back in the form of an exact cross.
The woman's head was bound up with part of the underclothing and a part of the bed-clothing, which was so tightly knotted together that it took some time to remove them.
There were marks of discoloration about the neck and throat, and it is believed that the murderer strangled his victim first and then proceeded to his horrible butchery.
The body lay upon its side upon the bed. with the back towards the door, so that the marks of the cross upon the back were first visible to those who might enter.
The bed clothing was saturated and dripping with blood, and the spectacle was one of the most fearful that could be imagined.
Sgt. McCarthy was sitting at the desk in the Oak Street station when James Jennings, the proprietor of the hotel, rushed in at 9:40 a.m. and with a blanched face told him
that a woman had been murdered in his place.
Capt. O'Connor and Ward Detectives Doran and Griffin made all haste to get around there.
They first got the story of the crime from bartender Fitzgerald, of the Fourth Ward Hotel, who was the last to see the woman and her companion.
He said that the old woman, who is known in that locality by the name of 'Shakespeare', came to the barroom early in the evening, where she was joined by another woman
named Mamie Healy, also a disreputable character of that neighborhood.
They sat together drinking beer for some time, and then the Healy woman went out.
Old 'Shakespeare' sat for awhile and talked with Mary Minotar, the assistant housekeeper of the hotel and then she too went out.
About 11 o'clock the old woman came in again. She had a fairly well-dressed young man apparently about thirty-five years old, with brown hair and a blond
mustache, and said she wanted a room for the night.
The young man did not say anything, except to tell the clerk, Fitzgerald, that his name was C. Kniclo.
Fitzgerald entered the name in the register, spelling it according to his own ideas of the orthography.
The pair was assigned to room 31 on the top floor, and the key was given to Kniclo after he had paid for the lodging.
Then the old woman turned to her companion and asked him if he would not like to have a pint of beer sent up to the room/He did not say anything,
but nodded his head and gave her a new ten-cent piece.
The beer was drawn and given to her in a pail, and she went upstairs with it, followed by the young man.
That was the last that was seen of them last night,
Fitzgerald says he thinks the young man must be an Italian or a Greek, for when he gave him his name he seemed to have a foreign accent.
Fitzgerald says that this morning when the couple did not appear, he went up to the room about 9 o'clock to rouse them up.
There had been no noise whatever during the night, and Proprietor Jennings, who occupied the adjoining room, had heard nothing.
he found the door locked, and after knocking several times and getting no response he began to shove it in.
The lock, which was an old one, gave way, and the door burst open, disclosing the horrible spectacle already described.
Fitzgerald at once informed Jennings of his ghastly discovery, and the police soon after took possession.
They detained Fitzpatrick as a witness, and also arrested Mary Minotar, the assistant housekeeper, and found Mary Healy, who has been an old
comrade of the Shakespeare woman.
There was not a sign of a clue to the man, who must have gone stealthily out of the house during the early hours of the morning after he had accomplished his butcher's work.
Mary Minotar says that while she sat talking with the old woman during the evening previous before the latter went out she learned part of the old woman's history.
The woman told her that her father was a sea captain and that she was once married to a seafaring man named Charles C. Brown.
She had not lived with him in many years and did not know whether he was dead or alive.
The old woman was sober at the time, but Mary Healey, who had left her some time previous, was very drunk when she went away.
The housekeeper said she knew both women only as speaking acquaintances. They frequented a little grocery store in Water Street, known as
George's place, with many of the abandoned women.
The Healey woman was still in an inebriated condition when the police found her this morning.
She was hysterical and seemed to be on the verge of the horrors, and no information could be obtained from her except that the old woman's
name was Shakespeare.
She did not know where she came from or where she lived, and said she knew nothing about the young man with the blond mustache, whom the
police think may be the real "Jack the Ripper".
Coroner Schultze, who was notified by the police, held a preliminary investigation at the Oak Street station but did not get any more out of the
witnesses than has been related.
He gave a permit for the removal of the woman's body to the Morgue.
The police are thoroughly mystified by the case and have not yet obtained the slightest trace of the murderer, as far as can be learned.
At The Scene Of The Crime
When a reporter for the Evening World visited the scene of the awful crime the police were in charge of the house.
The entrance to the bar on the corner of Water and Catherine Streets was open, and the bartender was ready to wait upon customers.
There were few, however, as the terrible crime had apparently cast an awe over the customers who ordinarily frequent the place.
The bartender said he knew nothing of the murder, as he was a new man who had only come on duty today.
He pointed to the rear, however, and said the policeman there knew all about it.
Two or three men stood about the barroom, but they spoke in whispers.
At the foot of the stairs back of the barroom stood a policeman, who graciously made way for the reporter to pass.
The stairs are narrow and bare.
There are five flights, and through the open doors of the rooms opening out on the halls could be seen marks of disorder, as though the
rooms had been hurriedly vacated.
The top floor, where the crime was committed, is partitioned off into even smaller rooms and barer rooms than those seen below.
It was in the corner room, with one window opening on Catherine Street and the other on Water Street, that the deed was done.
At first glance on entering, there was nothing strange apparent.
The extreme bareness of the room was the chief characteristic.
But after taking a single step inside, turning to the left, and glancing at the bed pushed up against the wall, a horrifying sight met the eyes.
There lay a woman with her single garment pulled up around her neck.
She lay in a pool of blood and her own intestines.
An 'X' was drawn with a knife in her flesh below the back.
The blood had flowed down off the bed and made a little pool on the floor.
She lay upon her right side, with her right arm bent back under her.
The left arm was folded over her breast.
One leg was drawn up almost double, and the other was stretched out full length.
The lids of her eyes were closed as though the woman had shut them and with all her strength was endeavoring to keep them shut.
The room was about 8 x 10 feet in dimensions.
The only pieces of furniture were what is known as a single bed, old fashioned and grimy, and a broken washstand and chair.
A dirty mattress and black pillow without a casing were the bed's only furnishing.
On the washstand was a small tin pail, with a few drops of beer in the bottom.
In one corner of the room lay the woman's tattered red flannel skirt and torn stockings.
Over the back of the chair hung her checked gingham waist and a cheap shoddy mantle.
One shoe lay under the bed.
The other shoe had been used as a prop to keep one window up.
The shoes were coarse and, as a policeman said, looked like workhouse shoes.
She was evidently one of the poorest of the poor creatures that frequent Water Street and entice drunken sailors to buy them a drink.
There was an old-fashioned candlestick holder on the stand. The candle had been burned down to the last drop of grease.
From the appearance of the room, the whole horrible tragedy could be readily seen in one's mind's eye.
The couple upon entering the bare little room had begun their debauch by drinking beer from the tin pail.
There were no glasses, but they were not fastidious and were satisfied to tip up the pail and drink to the dregs.
When sufficiently stupefied by drink they retired.
The woman distributed her clothes about the room with the indifference of her class.
When he got ready for his bloody deed, the man grasped her by the throat with one hand, and the other struck her with his knife.
She must have made a struggle, for she had been turned clear around in the bed.
This was evident from the fact that the foot of the leg stretched out at length and touched the pillow. That must have been the recognized
head of the bed, for the fiend had not stopped to arrange anything after his mad thirst for blood had been satiated.
The marks of his fingers were still on her throat.
These discolorations told why the poor woman had not aroused the house with her cries.
Strangled as she was, the man of blood was not troubled in completing the dread work begun.
He ripped her open, and then with maniacal fury tore out her intestines.
She lay on her back and he laid these ghastly symbols of his crime on her stomach.
In the first feeble struggle, the unfortunate creature had been pinioned with the right arm under her.
One leg had been drawn up in her agony.
It was thus she died.
He gazed with fiendish satisfaction at his victim, gloating over the devilishness of his work.
It was while gazing at the bleeding creature in her death throes that she made one final effort and rolled over on her side.
He had but one detail of his awful deed to complete before he made his escape from the terrible scene.
That was to place his mark upon his victim.
This he did by drawing the blade of his bloody knife across the skin below the small of her back in the shape of the letter X.
The light streamed in through the windows from the electric lamps on the street corner, and he had no need for the candle which had burned
out before he began his bloody work.
He was satiated.
Now to leave the ghastly discovery to be made in the morning.
He stuck the knife under the woman's right hip, where it rested on the mattress, and then without a glance behind left the room.
His escape was easy. It is customary for the guests of this hotel to leave at all hours of the night without explanation, and the occupants of room 31
last night were not subjected to any unusual inspection.
Two people had entered room 31, and the one that came out and left his horribly mutilated companion on that fatal bed was as free to go as he had been to come.
The Knife Found
The effects found in the murdered woman's clothing were brought to the Oak Street station house along with the knife with which Kniclo carved
and disemboweled his victim.
The effects consisted of a Chinese muslin bag about thirteen inches long and six inches wide.
Two pairs of old-fashioned spectacles, one of which was encased in an old pasteboard spectacle box.
The knife is an ordinary table knife, about eight inches long, with a black wooden handle.
The blade is about an inch wide and slants at the end. It resembles a shoemaker's leather cutter.
The blade near the handle is smeared with blood stains, which are dry.
At 1:40 p.m., Capt. McLaughlin, of the old slip station, came into the Oak Street station, accompanied by Detective Sergeant McCloskey.
They had just viewed the body and went into Capt. O'Connor's private room where Detective Sgt. Crowley, also of Inspector Byrnes' staff, was waiting.
The four officials held a consultation with the door closed.
Detective McCloskey, who is on the case, says that the body was terribly mutilated.
The bowels were ripped open and part of the intestines cut through. A portion of the viscera is gone. The detective declined to discuss the case.
Not The First Murder There.
The East River hotel, where the crime was committed, has a most unsavory repute both in the neighborhood and with the police. Many suspected
crimes are alleged to have been covered up within its walls.
The interior appearance of the place bears out its reputation. The rooms are dirty, even filthy, the floors utterly destitute of any sign of a carpet, and many
of the rooms lack even a chair for the occupants. No person with a particle of self-respect would consent to remain there over night.
Some three years ago a man was found dead on a beer keg just outside the bar room door, with an ugly stab wound in the abdomen.
The bartender, a man named Thompson, was charged with the crime, and his weapon was said to have been a huge Chinese sword, with which it is
claimed he stabbed the man because he would not pay for the drinks he had ordered.
Thompson was tried and acquitted, his boss, it is said, having exercised a large 'pull'.
The place has also been the scene of many suspicious deaths, and within a week, according to a businessman in the neighborhood, a sailor was
enticed into the place by sirens, made intoxicated, and robbed.
The same merchant characterizes the place as a disorderly resort of the lowest type for depraved characters of all nationalities.]]
Home
Search
Admin
Today's Posts
Calendar
Gallery
Members
Login
Register
Show Posts
