3/16/2016 WHITECHAPEL By Marc LengfieldWHITECHAPEL I. BUCK’S ROW -MARY ANN “POLLY” NICHOLS – AUGUST 31, 1888 I were ‘is first yer know. It were the bleedin’ doss brass I were after. ‘ad it free times that day and drunk it away. But I like me gin yer know. The deputy 'e told me ter leave out the kitchen at Wilmott's on account I couldn't produce me doss brass. But I weren’t worried. I 'ad me brand new black stror bonnet, trimmed it was, wiv black velvet and I were wearin' me new linsey frock and me red brown ulster wiv seven brass buttons, do wot guvnor! The chuffin' one wiv the picture of the man and tart on 'orseback. I were 'ave a lookin' right pretty that night. Surely I could cop us a payin' gent. I told Emily 'olland I'll be right back. It shouldn't take long. But I didn’t come back, do wot guvnor! I should've slept rough maybe in Trafalgar Square. But I were right drunk. And the rains. And the sky. All red wiv the bleedin' dock fires and 'e came sharp dressed and I fought I knew 'im. I didn’t come back. I were tidy yer know. The carman Cross 'e were the one that found me. He were kind, tried ter make me decent, right, pulled me underskirts hammer and tack dahn. And the bloomin' coroner 'e said there weren't much blood and me fighs were right tidy. I were 'is first yer know. II. 29 HANBURY STREET, SPITALFIELDS -ANNIE CHAPMAN- SEPTEMBER 8, 1888 Sometimes they called me Dark Annie. I made me lodgin' wiv crochet work and sellin' fake flowers and me two regulars , right, Harry the Horker and the chuffin' bricklayer 'oose name were Ted Stanley. The bleedin' one they called the bleedin' Pensioner. I got along good wiv the bleedin' deputy keeper Donovon, got along wiv evry geezer except that bitch Eliza Cooper 'oo were after me Pensioner making such a fuss over a boozer of soap. Yer know I tossed the bloomin' 'oore an 'alf penny onto the chuffin' lodgin' 'ouse kitchen table, told 'er go and cop an 'alfpenny of soap. And later I slapped 'er at the Britannia and we got into it. The bleedin' fuckin' slut, she punched me fine an' th' co'oner foun' th' bruises right along wif all the slices Mister Jack put on me. Nearly cut me loaf of bread off 'e did and it were that John Evans' fault. Yer can't 'ave a knees-up wivout a joanna. It were 'im made Donovon turn me out ter the street ter hustle up me rent brass, init? I were quite 'appy eatin' me potatoes in the kitchen and I weren't drunk only tipsy. I tried tro cop John Evans ter let me stay but 'e said yer can find brass for beer but yer can't find brass for yor bed. I told 'im keep me bed I’ll be not long and off I went walkin' over ter Ten Bells and and that's where the foreigner found me there, init? He were short yer know wiv a deerstalker 'at and wen 'e were done wiv me 'e arranged me legs like a midole lady would, do wot guvnor. III. "THE DOUBLE EVENT" DUTFIELD'S YARD: 36 BERNER STREET- -ELIZABETH STRIDE- ALDGATE HIGH STREET -CATHERINE EDDOWES- -SEPTEMBER 30, 1888 It were just in the cards that night yer know. It were right Lizzy 'e were after. It were 'er that were first. But they were interrupted, come upon by that jewelry salesman and 'is pony before Jack could cop his satisfaction. Cor blimey guy! And that pony knew. Knew evil Jack were there in the yard in the bloomin’ shadows wiv the fog and the evil. And the pony 'e shied, wouldn't go no furffer, init? Until Jack slipped oray leavin' Long Liz wiv 'er froat fresh cut still gurglin' warm. I'll get out me spoons. I don't know why they call 'er Long Liz. Cor blimey guv, would I lie to you? Maybe because 'er last name's Stride or because she's tall or because of the bleedin' shape of 'er Nanny Goat Race. Kate and Lizzy, we were the keen ones. Me mates, me chinas, me muckers always said that Kate she's the intelligent one and scholary, fough she 'as i fierce temper, and that's a direct quote. And Liz-she 'ad the gift of 'am sandwich, spoke Yiddish and the Kin''s English she did, learned it in Sweden. There weren't no Cockney comin' out of that girl's North and South. O'course she 'ad a bit of a wistle wen she went on. On account of 'avin' no teeff in 'er lower jor. Got them kicked out wen the Princess Alice ran into the bloody Bywell Castle. Lost 'er kids and 'er ole man and 'er teeff wen the bloody ship went dahn. And if she says it's true then it's true, do wot guvnor! She ain't lyin' no matter wot the bloody Ripperologists say. Fuckin' wankers wot do they know! Oi! Some of them even say Lizzy's not one of us, not one of the five, init? But I know. Jack made us sisters that night. Killed us boff the same night. He didn't cop to finish wiv Long Liz like 'e did wiv me. Oh yeah, he made some nasty work of me. Cut out me female parts, right, pulled me guts over me loaf of bread and got shit all over me. Cut out me kidney and even ate 'alf of it. Sent the uvver 'alf ter Lusk yer know. Yeah yer Rippers know about that. Signed that letter From Hell, 'e did. And yer fink yer know 'im. Got all yor fancy theories of royal cousins and doctors and butchers and skinners. But yer don't know 'im. Me and Lizzy and the uvvers - we know 'im. We seen 'is Nanny Goat Race- we seen 'im burn. They 'ad me in the bloody sot tank that night and put me out wen I sobered up. Bloody Jack couldn't cop no satisfaction wiv Liz so 'e got it wiv me. It were just in the cards. IV. 13 MILLER'S COURT -MARY JANE KELLY- NOVEMBER 9, 1888 Me mince pies were blue, right, me complexion fair and me breasts were full. I 'ad considerable personal attractions. Cor blimey guv! Yer can't 'ave a knees-up wivout a joanna. I were a blonde, a redhead, right, a brunette. I were the yungest, the bloody prettiest, I 'ad considerable personal attractions. Cor blimey guv! I were the last. Some called me Mary Jane. Some called me Marie Jeanette. Some called me Fair Emma or Ginger. Some called me Black Mary and some even say I were Jack. And some say I weren't 'er. Say I were anuvver. It's a mestery forever except ter me, right, my sisters, and Jack. He took me apart yer know, that Gentleman Jack did. Oh he opened me up, opened me up like no man ever did. After 'e killed me, right, I were like a spirit Jesus floatin' over meself, wotchin' meself. Oh 'e were rock 'ard 'e were at 'is work on me he were. Like the chuffin' bog eyes's fang 'e were. Razorin' up me Nanny Goat Race. Dear God I were the yungest! I were the prettiest! He cut off me nose, me cheeks, right, me eyebrows, me ears, do wot guvnor! I were the bleedin' yungest. I were the chuffin' prettiest. He cut off me tits and put one under me loaf of bread like a pillow. He cut out me lung and me liver and 'e cut out me womb. He split me wide open, pulled me apart and took me 'eart out. Took it wiv 'im! Honest guv! He 'urt me that nasty Jack did. And no geezer knows. Even 'e can only know 'alf. And 'oo seen me at the chuffin' Brittania drinkin' wiv the man, then, eh? And 'oo seen me at the Ten Bells drinkin' wiv the man, then, eh? And 'oo 'eard me singgin' 'oo 'eard the rain, heard the bloomin' cry of murder, 'oo 'eard heard me singgin' A Violet I Plucked from Muvver's Grave... ...Wen A Boy, singgin’ me song forever. I were the yungest, the prettiest, the bloodiest. I were the last. About the author: Marc Lengfield lives in Florida where he teaches mathematics at a local university. His previous publications include a short story titled 'Diary of Blind Love' dedicated to the post punk, sex positive literary pioneer Kathy Acker, which first appeared in Dogzplot some years ago. Comments are closed.
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