I
will, for convenience sake, date the beginning of Whitechapel the
hunting ground of the so-called Jack the Ripper to March of 1643,
when developers Thomas and Lewis Fossan foreclosed on a section of
land outside the Old Gate (Aldgate, above) of London. Not being farmers – Lewis was
a goldsmith - they “plotted” a crazy quilt pattern of streets
around what their maps labeled as Fossan Square and street – later
to be “corrupted” to Fashion Street. In August of 1655, one of
their 99 year leases was taken by a pair of ambitious bricklayers,
John Flower and Gowen Dean. As only the living space produced revenue
on their new Flower and Dean Street, the pair agreed their roadway
between grand homes would be 16 feet wide at the eastern end,
narrowing to just 10 feet wide at the west.
The
Fossans now developed “George Yard” to connect Flower and Dean
to Wentworth Street, and in 1658 (Henry) Thrall Street to connect
George Yard to Brick Lane. By 1663 John and Gowen had subdivided
their subdivisions and the street was largely occupied by French
Protestant Huguenots escaping religious persecution under Catholic
Louis XIII.
The newcomers brought silk weaving technology with them,
and sought new fortunes and mansions faster rather than better. The
London bricklayer's guild noted that Nicholas Higgins and Jacob
Sewell had used “bad mortar” in their building on Flower and Dean
Street, and worse, Samuel Twinn had hired “foriegners”. As
early as 1704 the Twinn built mansion was said to be “decayed,
ruinous and uninhabited”. And by 1750 most of the silk weavers had
moved on and the mansions along the narrow street were being
subdivided yet again into apartments, as English laborers, left
unemployed by the switch from flax and wheat to sheep and wool,
sought work and new homes in London.
As
the 99 year leases ran out, the patchwork quilt of properties were
bought up by corporations, which shielded their owners from financial
risks and bad publicity.
By the 1750's much of Spitafield's and large
parts of Whitechapel – including Flower and Dean Street - was owned
by poet and artist George Keate (above), of Bloomsbury, West End, London. Under Keate's disinterested tenure the run-down subdivided mansions
were subdivided again and again, with courts and alleys cut into the
center of blocks to increase square footage without increasing space,
and rebuilt only when they collapsed into the street. When George
Keate died in 1797, the rents from the 250 buildings he owned in
Spitafield and Whitechapel produced £700 a year in rents– a
fortune in the day.
The
trustees of the Keate estate noted in 1805 that many of the rental
properties were “very old, and in a bad state of repair”. And yet the incomes kept coming. The
estate was inherited by George's daughter, Georgina Keate, now Mrs
Henry Henderson, of Number 1 Gutter Lane, London. Henry Hendreson's profession
in “Who's Who” was listed as Silk Manufacturer, because Slum Lord
sounded too common.
It was under the Henderson family that the slums
of Whitechapel were sublet yet again, to further shield the owners
from the stench produced by the source of their income. As French
writer Honre de Balzac wrote just about this time, “The secret of a
great success for which you are at a loss to account, is a crime that
has never been found out, because it was properly executed.”
This
crime was magnified in 1844 with the clearing of slums for the
construction of the 100 foot wide Commercial Street (above), as a north/south
direct route to and from the London Docks – the investment that
fueled a century of British empire.
In the first stage, only as far as Christ Church Spitaflield, more than 1,300 people - now
mostly Irish peasants escaping the potato famine - were thrown out of their homes, with only the twin traps of doss houses and public house
to catch them. The overcrowding in the side streets created “The
Wicked Quarter Mile”, where there existed “the riot, the
struggle, and the scramble for a living".
Augustus
Mayhew - in his 1861 book “London Labor and the London Poor” -
explained how men like Henry Henderson grew richer selling coffin
sized beds at 4 pennies a night. Mayhew's example lived in “a
country house in Hampstead”, but was supported by the 6 doss
houses he owned on Thrall street. Each house was run by a “deputy”
responsible for paying operating expenses and collecting the nightly fees. The
less spent on maintenance, the greater the deputies' income.
Each week a
company man arrived to check the register of filled “beds”
against money's taken in. And from this the company took their
“dues” - the lions share. Mayhew also reported the company
employed “poor fellow … to go and lodge in … his houses, and
report the number present” to keep the deputies honest.
By
1880, a commentator wrote, the Wicked Quarter Mile was ’one of the
most crime-infected districts in the whole metropolis. There are
Flower and Dean and Keate-street, and innumerable other neighboring
narrow ways, and courts, and alleys that afford standing room for a
terribly wicked lot of common lodging-houses.’
Wrote another,
“...if I examined the
courts which ran out of Flower and Dean Street (above) and the houses in its
alleys and lanes...I had seen the very worst that London is capable
of producing". By 1881 there were 20 “doss” houses on
Flower and Dean Street alone, in each of which over 200 people slept
every night. And such crowding allowed Henry Henderson to move his
family to a new mansion at 5 Stanhope Street, Hyde Parkgardens, and
to make substantial donations to the Conservative Party.
The political connections came in handy when the widening of Commercial Street south of Christ Church was begun. Once again the government bought out the slums. But the slumlords had learned, and the new programs allowed them to keep collecting rents until the day the crews arrived to tear the buildings down. As that scandal was brewing, the piecemeal construction was found to be driving up property values ahead of the work, especially south of Whitechapel High Street, where the road jogged south and east a mile, toward the Limehouse basin, and the larger newer India Docks By 1860 the entire project had become so expensive and politically unpopular, that further widening was stopped.. But the decision to not allow low cost housing along the new Commercial Street and Road, also drove up the cost of available housing for the working poor, worsening their plight.
Thus
there was a connection between one of the wealthiest families in
England and a Swedish immigrant named Elizabeth Gustafsdotter , a.k.a.
Elizabeth Stride.
Long Liz (above) spent most of her last day on earth,
Saturday, 29 September, 1888, cleaning two rooms in the doss house at
32 Flower and Dean Street, for the grand salary of 2 ½ pence, handed
to her by Elizabeth Tanner, who worked - through several
intermediaries – for the Henderson family estate.
And before 12 hours had gone by, Liz Stride would be dead on the pavement between
Numbers 40 and 42 Berner Street, Whitechapel – south of the Commercial Road extension, and well outside the killer's
previous hunting ground.
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