tallies with that given by Birch of his mysterious caller. The clothing was described as a blue serge suit, and a stiff but low hat. He wore a stand-up collar and a watch-chain. He wore no beard, but a slight dark moustache and his face was evidently sun burnt. Birch says he thought he was a seafaring man, or one who had recently made a long voyage. When he got the overalls on he had the appearance of an engineer. Many points of this description correspond so well to that given of the man who made such pointed inquiries about women at the Nuns Head Tavern, Aldgate, last Saturday night, and also to another description the police have received, that they are inclined to connect the man with the latest murders.
Few newspapers picked up the story, and no mention of Birch is found among surviving police reports. The reference to the man seen at the "Nuns Head Tavern" most likely refers to the description of a man seen at the "Three Nuns Hotel" by Albert Bachert on the night of 30 September 1888.
Albert Bachert, Bachert's first connection with the Whitechapel murders occurs the night of the Double Event, 30 September 1888, in the form of an encounter with a suspicious man. The Times 1 October relates his story: I was in the Three Nuns Hotel, Aldgate, on Saturday night, when a man got into conversation with me. He asked me questions which now appear to me to have some bearing upon the recent murders. He wanted to know whether I knew what sort of loose women used the public bar at that house, when they usually left the street outside, and where they were in the habit of going. He asked further questions, and from his manner seemed to be up to no good purpose. He appeared to be a shabby genteel sort of man, and was dressed in black clothes. He wore a black felt hat and carried a black bag. We came out together at closing time (12 o'clock), and I left him outside Aldgate Railway Station. In The Times of 2 October, Bachert expanded his story, adding a match-woman and more of his conversation with the mysterious man: While in there an elderly woman, very shabbily dressed, came in and asked me to buy some matches. I refused and she went out. A man who had been standing by me remarked that those persons were a nuisance, to which I responded "Yes." He then asked me if I knew how old some of the women were who were in the habit of soliciting outside. I replied that I knew, or thought, that some of them who looked about 25 were over 35. He then asked me whether I thought a woman would go with him down Northumberland-alley - a dark and lonely court in Fenchurch-street. I said I did not know, but supposed she would. He then went outside and spoke to the woman who was selling matches and gave her something. He returned, and I bid him good-night at about ten minutes past 12. I believe the woman was waiting for him. I do not think I could identify the woman, as I did not take particular notice of her; but I should know the man again. He was a dark man, about 38 years of age, about 5ft. 6in. or 5ft. 7in. He wore a black felt hat, a dark morning coat, a black tie, and a carried a black shiny bag. On 20 October, Bachert moved from the role of witness to that of participant, when he received an alleged Ripper postcard
Dear Old Baskett
Yer only tried ter get yer name
in the papers when yer thought you
had me in the Three Tuns Hotel
I'd like to punch yer bleeding nose
Jack the Riper
The morning of Mary Jane Kelly's funeral, 19 November, Bachert claimed to be woken by an unnamed police constable who informed him that there was chalk graffiti written on the outside of 13 Newnham. As reported in The Walthamstow and Leyton Guardian of Saturday, 24 November, the writing on the Bachert home read: Dear Boss, - I am still about: Look out. - Yours, JACK THE RIPPER. Presumably while at the scene, Bachert declared that the writing resembled that of the Dear Boss letter, singling out the "B" in "Boss" and "R" in "Ripper." To discourage the crowd that had started to collect around the Bachert house, Albert's mother partially washed the graffiti away. There was another incident the following summer. the Hempstead Gazette of 20 July 1889 reported that police had received a spate of Ripper letters, which threatened more murders. Albert Bachert's name is also mentioned as having been the target of a letter that June. Evans and Skinner report that police files preserve no such communication. Some point in 1889, Bachert became chairman of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee. Bachert did not join the organization until 1889, when press reports first cite his involvement.
Bachert's letter to the Advertiser:
As chairman of the last-formed Whitechapel Vigilance Committee, I have been questioned by a large number of people about this discovery (the Pinchin Street Torso). From the time our committee was formed, my colleagues and myself have done all in our power to discover the Whitechapel murderer. Night after night I have been out watching and making inquiries; but when the dock Worker's strike commenced the interest in the murders seemed to cool down, and thus several of my supporters relaxed the energy they had hitherto displayed… From inquiries, I am confident that the murderer is a Whitechapel person, or at any point he is well acquainted with the back streets. It is a curious fact that in all places where these murders have occurred the houses are such that any person can enter by pulling a string which lifts the latch. My opinion is that the murderer knows this, and that the moment he has committed a murder he enters one of these houses. I firmly believe that if the police had searched the houses in the vicinity the moment a murder was discovered, the murderer would have been captured (East London Advertiser, 14 September 1889).
The Chronicle's 21 September 1889
Bachert said that the authorities at Leman Street Police Station received a letter, which gave information that "a tall, strong woman has for some time been working at different slaughter-houses, attired as a man." Bachert also told the paper that police had made inquiries at slaughterhouses in Aldgate and Whitechapel the morning of 19 September, presumably in connection with the Ripper murders. The paper supplied no further details of the letter, or how Bachert knew about it.
Mr. Albert Bachert, chairman of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee, has received the following letter: "Whitechapel, 9th October, 1889. Dear Boss, - I write you these few lines to let you know, as you are the Boss of the Vigilant Society, that the last job wasn't me. You might have known it wasn't me, for I shouldn't have made such a 'botch' of it. Never mind, young man. You can keep your lamps open for the 18th of October. I am on the job again. There's no blood knocking about or I let you see some. Never mind. Look out, old man. Your a brave sort. You thought you had me once. Don't forget the 18th. - Yours in haste, JACK THE R. - Albert Bachert." The envelope bears the East London postmark, and was posted on Saturday. The writing corresponds with that in the letters received by Mr. Bachert previously. The "B" and "R" are a facsimile of those in the two letters that were sent to Mr. Bachert before the Miller's-court and Castle-alley murders, and these two letters turned out to be true. In this instance, however, the letters "J. R." are on the envelope as well as on the address.
East London Advertiser, Saturday, 19 October, 1889.
the Port Philip Herald, 22 November 1890:
In connection with the late Whitechapel murders, the most remarkable and sensational statement was made to me this morning at my place. At eleven o'clock this morning a very respectable middle-aged woman called at my house, and wished to see me. She was asked in, and then made the following statement to me, which she declared was all quite true: About two years ago, she said, she was living in the model dwellings close by here and had a bedroom to let, furnished. A young man called and engaged the room. After living some time with her he stated that he had been to sea, and that at the present time he was receiving £1 a week from his father, and was also receiving an allowance from his brother, who was a doctor, and that he did not work himself. She also noticed that he had plenty of clothes, including hunting breeches, revolvers, guns, and many other articles, which an ordinary working man would not have. He had the door key, and could go out and in at all hours of the night, and used generally to get up about 5 p.m., but she could not say what time he arrived home at night. On several occasions she noticed that his towels were very bloodstained, for which he accounted by saying that he was fond of painting, and had wiped his brush on them. She also stated that she knew he had sent the liver, because one afternoon she happened to go to his room, and saw him with several pieces of liver on a newspaper, which he stated he had got from a New Zealand boat, as he knew a friend who was on board a frozen mutton boat. She saw him