A Fallen Angel

A Friend's Truth

London, England, in the late 1800s was a time when prostitution ran rampant in the streets. However, in 1888, London was a terrifying place to be for women of the night. A prostitute's life during this time could be difficult and often dangerous. This statement had never been truer than in 1888, when a crazed man began butchering women in the streets. At the time, no one really knew how many victims he had killed. He was a serial killer, nameless, faceless, a shadowy figure that was seemingly uncatchable, leaving countless, mutilated bodies in his wake. They called him Jack the Ripper. In the midst of all the rumors and chaos in London surrounding the recent murders, a young and proper woman walked up the steps of Urania Cottage to sit down with the rising author, Charles Dickens.

"Mr. Dickens, thank you for meeting with me today. As I stated in my letter, I have a story that is of the upmost importance, and I believe you to be the only one who would do it justice."

"I must say Miss Emma, I was both surprised and intrigued when I received your letter. Jack the Ripper is a popular figure in the newspapers, and there are numerous conspiracy theories surrounding his recent victims. It would be nice to hear the truth from someone personally affected by these tragedies. That would be quite a story indeed."

"Mary Kelly was one of the kindest women, and her recent death is a most devastating tragedy. I asked for this meeting, so you could get the full story on who she was and how she died. I want people to know the truth in the midst of all these rumors."

"Alright, let's begin then." The writer opened his notebook, pushed his glasses up on his face, and reached for a fountain pen before looking back up at the woman sitting in front of him. "What are your thoughts on the recent events concerning women with your chosen lifestyle?"

"Firstly, Mr. Dickens, that is no longer my profession as I am now engaged and soon to be married to Colonel James Taylor. This lifestyle, as you call it, was simply my way of making a living. I did what I needed to survive. Regardless, these terrible murders have me quite shaken. The murderer of my dear friend, Mary Kelly, was indeed this infamous man the papers are calling, Jack the Ripper. It was a sight unlike anything I had ever seen before, and I hope to never see anything so gruesome ever again."

"What was your involvement with Mary Jane Kelly? You mentioned you were two were friends."

"We were very close friends. I first met Mary not long after my husband died in a riding accident. I was a twenty-three-year-old widow and had yet to have any children. I had no home, no husband, no children, and little money. I didn't have many options other than to go back to my family or marry a man who was practically a stranger. I wasn't fond of either choice, so I made my own. I found my way to the West End of London where I met Mary Kelly who was looking for a roommate. She was a bit younger than me, I believe only twenty-one years old. I found her a very agreeable woman having a free-spirited, independent personality and kindly demeanor. She had many gentlemen clients, and taught me everything I needed to know about how to make money of my own. Mary made everything seem like such fun, and it wasn't long before I had several well-to-do gentlemen clients of my own."

"How long did you and Ms. Kelly live with one another?"

"We lived in that apartment together for almost two years until she met a man named Joseph Barnette. She left to live with Barnette on the East End of London in April 1887. At the time, I also had taken an interest in a gentleman. I moved out of the apartment as well, once Colonel Taylor and I began seeing one another other exclusively."

"Did you and Miss Kelly write or visit one another after going your separate ways?"

"We occasionally found time to take a break and visit with each other, but our busy schedules kept us apart most of the time. However, the two of us corresponded quite frequently. I could always expect a letter at the end of every week. In several letters, she expressed her growing affections for Joseph and had almost completely given up her line of work. Likewise, I told her of how my life had changed since I began seeing Colonel Taylor and my suspicions of an upcoming engagement. In our most recent letters however, Jack the Ripper was the main topic of conversation. Almost immediately after the newspapers published the killer's Dear Boss letter, there were two more women murdered. Catherine even had her ear cut exactly as the letter said. I expressed concern for Mary going out alone late at night, since many of his victims were from her area. She was worried, but reassured me that Mr. Barnett would be there to keep her safe and promised that she would be careful. I would never have thought something so terrible would happen to her

"Miss Emma, what happened the day of Mary Kelly's murder?" Mr. Dickens asked, his pen never once leaving the page in hopes of writing down everything this woman had to say.

"The morning of Mary's murder, I was getting ready to go and visit her. Two weeks prior, one of her letters said that she and Joseph had gotten into an argument and resulted in him moving out. She was so distraught, absolutely beside herself, so I decided to go sit with her for a while. I was almost ready to leave, and Colonel Taylor walked in holding that day's newspaper. He told me that there had been another murder in the East End of London. I took the newspaper from him and couldn't believe what I saw."

Emma handed Charles the newspaper she brought with her. It was a paper from the London Daily Post, the same one printed the morning of the murder. In large, bold print the headline read, "JACK the RIPPER" CLAIMS 5th VICTIM. WOMAN BRUTALLY HACKED TO DEATH. The following article described the victim, a woman cut to pieces. He looked over the paper as she continued her story.

"As you can see, the paper does not mention the victim by name, but Miller's Court was the same area as Mary lived. Colonel Taylor tried to keep me from going, but I had told Mary I would meet her that morning and wanted to know if she was ok. By the time I got to her apartment, the building was overrun with police, investigators, and a crowd of strangers. I tried to get inside but no one would let me in. Mary's room was on the first floor, so I walked around looking for a way in that wasn't blocked by police. I passed one of the windows and noticed it was broken. When I saw inside I couldn't believe my eyes. I almost fainted at the sight. She was laying on the bed, completely unrecognizable. Her body was laying on the bed, bloodied and mutilated. She didn't even look human. Dr. Bond, the medical examiner said that her heart was removed and never found. Her stomach was cut open, and she was completely torn to pieces.It was inhumane the things he did to her, the poor girl. It must take a truly evil person to inflict so much pain on someone," cried the woman as she remembered the horrendous events of her friend's murder. Mr. Dickens set his pen down and passed the young woman a handkerchief from his coat pocket.

"I am very sorry for your loss. That was such an unfortunate event indeed. On a more personal note Miss, do you ever regret your past decisions regarding your previous occupation or choices you've made while in that line of work? Do you think things would have turned out differently for Miss Kelly if she had chosen a different life?"

"Yes, I believe her life could have turned out differently, and there is a good possibility she would still be alive. However, she enjoyed the freedom being unmarried allowed, so I think she was happy with her life and most of her choices. Also, all due respect Sir, but I was once considered 'the angel of the house', and now I am viewed as nothing but a 'fallen woman' in need of redemption. Tell me Mr. Dickens, has my chosen occupation rendered me illiterate, suddenly unable to keep house, or converse knowledgably. I am no less of a woman than I have ever been; I have not lost my domestic training. I am only now seen as tainted because of my occupation and the supposed inferiority of my sex. Once I am married what will I be called then? I will no longer be a 'fallen woman', but I also cannot be fully restored to my previous, pure status, as society has deemed me tainted. I suppose they must come up with something new to call me." The woman quipped. The young writer smiled slightly.

"A fallen angel, perhaps?" Mr. Dickens suggested.

"Yes, perhaps." The young woman replied. There was a short pause, before he closed his book and set his pen down on the side table.

"Thank you for your time, Miss Emma. It has been a pleasure."

"The pleasure is mine, Sir. I appreciate you hearing what I had to say." The young woman gathered her things, curtsied to the author, and left the house; soon disappearing forever, lost in the hustling English crowd.