Introducing Edward Buckley Article

Introducing Edward Buckley
Life & Crimes of a Whitechapel Fiend
Jurriaan Maessen & Jonathan Tye
(with significant contributions by Jose Oranto)
1
Dedicated to the memory of
Frances Jones
who suffered profusely at the hands of Edward Buckley
2
An Unlikely Discovery
As all researchers of the Whitechapel case can attest to, there are periods during
which different threads of interests appear to merge, seemingly without rhyme or
reason. Interests long brewed upon, laid to rest, and then picked up again, finally come
together to open up vista's that he or she did not particularly set out to find, let alone
touch down on. So it was with us.
Jonathan Tye, an ardent student of East End history and manufacturer of effective
micro-historical compositions; and Jurriaan Maessen, a writer and researcher whose
primary area of interest is researching the last of the canonical five, both happened to
stumble upon the very same individual during their respective (and entirely unrelated)
scavenging journeys across the British Newspaper Archives and other archival
repositories. Not only did we both stumble upon the same person by chance, we found
out about our respective findings entirely by accident as well. When Maessen put out
a generic request on the "ripper" socials for any surviving Leavesden records, Tye
appeared in his DM to share his experiences during his own search for similar records,
and it wasn't long before we discovered we had both been looking at the same
individual.
After a long and gasping stupor, we decided to take the occurrence as a remarkable
case of Jungian synchronicity and so decided to embark upon the journey together,
confident that two sets of eyes would discern more than one, with the added advantage
of speeding up the research, perhaps even shaping our respective queries into
something more than just queries.
This article is the result of that journey and aims to achieve but two things:
documenting as well as we are able the life and crimes of Edward Buckley, as well as
hopefully inspiring other, more capable researchers than ourselves to join in the effort
of threshing out as much as we can about an individual never before investigated in
any meaningful way. Not as a ripper ‘suspect’ mind you, as Buckley was, as far as we
know, never questioned in relation to the case, nor is there any contemporaneous
evidence to suggest he was discussed as such by any police official, senior or
otherwise.
Buckley, however, did catch the attention of one notable researcher in 2004. During
that year the late, great, Chris Scott posted1 an article from The Times dated the 5th
October 1885. The article, which appeared on Casebook.org, reads as follows:
1
Casebook, Chris Scott, 24 September, 2004, Casebook: Jack the Ripper - Message Boards: Edward Buckley 1885
3
Scott was quick to add a cautionary note that he was emphatically not putting Buckley
forward as a possible ripper suspect, merely observing:
“This character caught my eye both for the nature of the attack and the cool
callousness of the offender. His statement to the police “It is a pity a man
should be pulled up for a prostitute,” particularly caught my attention. I am
NOT suggesting he’s Jack but his is maybe the kind of attack that preceded
Jack’s career.”
This solitary comment on Buckley was the only one we were able to find on both
Casebook and JTRForums, and we may assume the lack of accessible archives at
the time must be largely responsible for the thread bleeding out as it did. Regardless,
the fact that Scott was careful to avoid being construed as pandering any sort of
suspect candidacy proposal, is both wise and practical. He probably realised better
than most that suspect-transfixion is both the fuel and, if one is not careful, the fuel-
stopper of any ongoing investigation.
It must here be mentioned that anyone could have come across Buckley as we did,
and it is certainly not because of any special prerequisite that we happened upon this
violent lunatic. After all, back in 2004 research was limited due to the volume of
digitised archives available, which leads us to a rather ironic law when it comes to
4
historical research: the further away one drifts from the events under investigation, the
more one manages to accumulate.
Like Scott, we too reserve judgement as to the significance of Buckley in relation to

the Whitechapel Murders case, and although he certainly was one of the meanest
sonsabitches in all of Whitechapel, one can do little more than simply tell the Edward
Buckley story such as it is, with all its bizarre intricacies intact.
As neither of us are trained historians by any stretch of the imagination, you can
imagine the task of "curbing our enthusiasm" has proven all the more daunting as we
attempted to make some sense out of all the available material, and had we stumbled
upon Buckley even ten years ago, we would not have been able to bring his story
forward in the dispassionate way any researcher may reasonably expect to be
presented with, even if in private we sometimes allowed ourselves a speculative
leverage not suitable for print. Whenever the temptation of quick and all-too-
convenient assumptions reared its ugly head during the course of our endeavours, we
reminded ourselves of the writer and researcher to whom our methodology is chiefly
indebted. For all its merits, excitement will be tempered as we attempt to evaluate all
of the accumulated research in a more or less coherent fashion, bringing forth only
that which is merited by fact and attempt to avoid the self-perpetuating wolf trap that
is suspectological Ripperology.
So began an invigorating and at times maddening five-month adventure that paused

every other project we happened to be working on at the time, as we set out to find as
much as we possibly could about the man, the method, and the madness.
Although the thought of "ripper" at times crept up on us as we researched the Buckley

particulars, we were also acutely aware that even the most sober of observers are
susceptible to visions of ripperological gold; if one doesn't safeguard oneself against
retroactively writing from the suspect down, mutating could-have's into would-have's,
one runs the very real risk of discerning things that are really not there or, likewise,
missing things that were there all along.
For this reason we were very much determined to let our little monster be scrutinised
by noted researchers in "the field" before we would even dare contemplate letting it
out of the cage. To this end we asked, and kindly received, invaluable input from such
heavyweights as Jose Oranto, Gary Barnett, Bruce Collie, Tom Wescott, Suzie
Huntington, Steven Blomer, Amanda Lloyd and Jonathan Menges, in the hopes of
them subjecting the research to some degree of scrutiny, perhaps shooting holes in
some (or all) of the assumptions that are bound to creep into the works of even the
most conscientious researcher. For their invaluable assistance we would like to extend
our deepest gratitude.
5
We should here take the opportunity to place Jose Oranto on an even higher pedestal.
Jose, although coming late to the Buckley effort, has contributed an astounding wealth
of information we previously didn't have access to, not to mention an original, critical
and always thoughtful way of looking at original source material not seldom beyond
our own ability to comprehend.
We still think back with a mix of terror and euphoria to those instances Jose cut into
our little research chat group with sudden resounding exclamations: "Guys!", "OMG",
"Are you sitting down?", putting us on instant high alert every time. Not necessarily
beneficial to the steady beating of the heart, it must be said, but he nearly always
followed up with revelatory gems he extracted from the archives.
6
Edward's Antecedents
Edward Buckley was born in St. George in the East on 13th July 1854 as the third child
of Daniel Buckley and Mary (Ann) Barrett. On the couple's marriage certificate2 dated
the 29th November 1846, they were recorded as living in Leading Street (Shadwell
Basin). Daniel gave his place of birth as “Cork” on several consecutive censuses, Mary
gave "Middlesex, St. George's" as hers, but we would not rule out her having been
born in Ireland as well; previous research showing there was often an element of
expediency when occupants disclosed their birthplaces to the census officials.
The backdrop to the Buckley family would not have differed significantly from that of
most Irish immigrants fleeing the horrors of famine in the 1840s and 1850s, the
prospect of employment and a more dignified life drove them to the world's economic
capital by the many thousands, often putting strains on housing as well as employment
opportunities throughout the East End, causing tensions to rise between the settled
and unsettled.
By 1851 we find the Buckley family across the City boundary in Cornhill 3, about an
eight-minute walk from Mitre Square. This is confirmed in the 1861 census4, listing the
Buckleys' firstborn child Elizabeth (1848) as the only child born in City territory. More
children were to follow: Mary Ann (1851), Edward (1854), John (1859) and Thomas
(1862), with Alice Buckley closing the catalogue in 1867.
Due to reasons we will expand on later on, no birth certificate for Edward seems to be
available. As far as we know the only existing document referencing his birth is an
1854 Catholic baptism record5, giving his date of birth as well as the parents' names.
For the longest time the assumption of Edward's birth year being 1853 had settled in
our minds as a given, based predominantly on references found by way of
Ancestry.com. Imagine our dismay when, quite late into the investigation, we gained
possession of an 1853 birth certificate6, mentioning an Edward Buckley born at 4
Tenter Street East, Whitechapel to a Bridget Buckley. Clearly not our man, in other
words.
2
Church of England Marriages and Banns, 1754-1938, London Metropolitan Archives; London, England; London Church of
England Parish Registers; Reference Number: P93/Pau3/025 (page 103)
3
The National Archives; Kew, London, England; 1851 England Census; Class: HO107; Piece: 1546; Folio: 525; Page: 12; GSU
roll: 174776 (page 13)
4
The National Archives; Kew, London, England; 1861 England Census, Class: RG 9; Piece: 280; Folio: 156; Page: 15; GSU roll:
542606 (page 17/18)
5
England Roman Catholic Parish Baptisms (page 99), images © Westminster Diocesan Archives
6
Birth Certificate, GRO, 1853, Sept, Whitechapel, Vol. 01C, page 360
7
This led us to quickly realise Edward Buckley was a more common name than one
would wish. This has proven a recurring theme during the entire scope of our
investigations.
As a rule our gut feelings proved baseless, and even if they didn't, some hints were
simply too indistinct to form any kind of confident substantiation. Let us not forget we
often had to work retroactively, as our initial point of reference - the 1885 Frances
Jones-assailant - would have to be matched with namesakes found in earlier records
as well as later ones. We had to be careful, in other words, not to be led astray by any
supposititious match.
By the time of the 1861 census7 the family were living back by the river, right on top of
Tobacco Dock, in a turning known as Crown Court, located roughly at the eastern end
of Pennington Street. In the same census record two Barrett lads, John (18) and Henry
(16), are mentioned lodging at the Buckley address, making it reasonable to assert
they may have been relations by blood.
At this time the family appears to have been a unit, but by the following decade, the
family's fortunes appear to have suffered a turn for the worse. In 1871 we find the
family largely broken up into several sub-units, spread out over the larger East End
area: the mother, Mary, is listed in the St. George in the East workhouse 8 along with
her younger children John, Thomas and Alice. Meanwhile their daughter Mary Ann is
working in service at 30 Brunswick Street, Hackney Road (Shoreditch) 9, a location
which would play an unexpectedly fortuitous part in our efforts to identify the correct
Edward Buckley later on. We were however unable to trace him in any London Census
in 1871.
Daniel and Mary’s firstborn, Elizabeth, also proved difficult to trace, despite her having
married a painter with the very distinct name of Richard St Pierre in 1866. On
Elizabeth's marriage certificate10 her address is given as 14 New Street, a road parallel
to Oxford Street and situated behind the Royal London Hospital in Whitechapel,
intersecting with New Road on the east side, and Sidney Street on the west. On the
7
The National Archives; Kew, London, England; 1861 England Census, Class: RG 9; Piece: 280; Folio: 156; Page: 15; GSU
roll: 542606 (page 17/18), Ibid.
8
The National Archives; Kew, London, England; 1871 England Census; Class: RG10; Piece: 543; Folio: 17; Page: 29; GSU
roll: 823390 (page 30)
9
The National Archives; Kew, London, England; 1871 England Census; Class: RG10; Piece: 471; Folio: 44; Page: 8; GSU roll:
823367 (page 9)
10
London Metropolitan Archives; London, England; London Church of England Parish Registers; Reference Number:
P93/PHI/013 (page 67)
8
same marriage record her father Daniel is mentioned as being a "Cigar Manufacturer''.
Edward seems to have followed in his father's footsteps. At least in name.
On the 7th June 1877, Edward's sister Mary Ann married11 a Chelmsford-born carman
named Frederick Clark, the son of a publican living in George Street. One of the
witnesses present at the ceremony was Elizabeth, Mary Ann's sister, now going under
her husband's surname of St Pierre. This time the father, Daniel, is recorded as "Cigar
Maker".
The address given for Mary Ann can be read as either 3 Rupert Street or 3 Rampart
Street, the first located immediately next to Leman Street whilst the latter is located
further along the Commercial Road past Berner Street (between Morgan and Richard
Street).
By 1880 we can firmly place most of the family in Morgan Street, also a turning off
Commercial Road. In October 1880 Edward’s mother Mary is listed as destitute and
living at 29 Morgan Street in the workhouse records12. In the census of 188113 we find
the Clarks (Mary Ann and Frederick) also living at number 29, where the husband is
now listed as a horse keeper.
Prior to the early 1880s we have found many-an-Edward in as many press reports,
some of them appearing to match our protagonist, others less so. And even then
separating the wheat from the shaft proved more difficult than we had initially
imagined, starting with his actual date of birth.
There is, for example, an Edward Buckley on whom the London Evening Standard
reported14 in November 1873 under the headline “A Brutal Son and a Forgiving
Mother”:
11
London Metropolitan Archives; London, England; London Church of England Parish Registers; Reference Number:
P93/CTC2/027 (page 415)
12
London, England, Workhouse Admission and Discharge Records, 1764-1921, London Metropolitan Archives; Reference
Number: STBG/SG/118/33 (page 226/227)
13
The National Archives; Kew, London, England; 1881 England Census; Class: RG11; Piece: 452; Folio: 103; Page: 36; GSU
roll: 1341098 (page 37)
14
(1873) “A Brutal Son and a Forgiving Mother”, London Evening Standard, 14 November
9
“Edward Buckley, a strong-looking lad, was charged with violently
assaulting his mother, Ellen Buckley, of 9, John's-place, Shadwell.-- The
Complainant, whose face was covered with severe contusions, and who
had a bandage round her head, on being sworn, said that it was her own
fault. She lost a letter from another son and accused the prisoner of taking
it, and he pushed her and she fell down. She wished to withdraw from the
charge.--- Henry Payne, police-constable 415 H, said he went to 9, John's-
place, and found the complainant bleeding freely. There was a great deal of
blood in the room she was in, and several cloths were saturated with blood.
She said her son had struck her with a poker, and on telling the prisoner the
charge he said his mother first began it.”
The location, St John’s Place (otherwise known as “Jack’s Hole”), felt right in all
respects; the violence exerted, the proximity of the location to several of Edward’s
future haunts, the motivational implications, etc. What’s more, subsequent research
revealed this Edward’s father was also a Daniel.
The story is expanded upon15 by a Pall Mall Gazette reporter who, predictably, took
the opportunity to moralise upon the horrors of family life in the East End. Imagine our
disappointment when an 1871 census entry16 showed this Edward Buckley as living
with his mother Ellen in Star Street, with an elder brother named Cornelius. Another
Edward, in other words, to stow away in the "Definitely not"-drawer, and yet another
illustration of the fact how easily one can be led astray by a namesake who, for all
intents and purposes, has Edward Buckley the Cigar Maker written all over him.
There are hints our Edward was already involved in rather small-time thuggish
behaviour from the early 1870s onward, such as pick-pocketing, hold-ups and simple
cases of battery. On the 25th May 1874, for example, we encounter17 an Edward
Buckley and a man named Williams lifting watches during a visit of the Duke and
Duchess of Edinburgh to the Chelsea Embankment. When Williams was seen
snatching a watch from an unsuspecting visitor, Edward called out "slop" and "drop it"
respectively indicating "policeman", and a less conspicuous instruction to lose the
stolen watch, double quick.
As far as early dabbling in street crime, all of Edward’s brothers were engaged in it,
usually of the petty (albeit violent) kind. On the 6th May 1879 John Buckley and another
fellow were charged with assaulting and beating a James Cocklin and his wife in
Leman Street on the previous Friday (2nd May). According to a press report in the East
London Observer18, the incident started out by John's companion grabbing Cocklin,
probably with the intent of robbing him. When the victim's wife tried to intercede, she
15
(1873) “Occasional Notes”, Pall Mall Gazette, 14 November
16
823389 (page 15)
17
(1874), "Charge of Attempting to Pick Pockets", Magnet (London), 25 May
18
(1879), "Lenient Sentences", East London Observer, 10 May
10
became a victim herself. While using obscene language, John knocked the woman
down violently, for which he received two months at Coldbath Fields Prison 19. The
case demonstrates a disregard and a violence towards women that was shared by
both Edward and Thomas. It also suggests the Buckleys were part of one or several
small-time gangs that terrorised Commercial Road and its off-shoots into Mile-End.
It is from this turbulent backdrop that we enter what in our opinion may be one of the
most significant events in Edward Buckley’s life thus far: the fight at Fashion Street.
The Fashion Street Stabbing
On the 18th February 1882 the shortest possible press report20 appeared in the Eastern
Post, stating only:
“On Monday, at Worship Street Police-court, Charles Donovan, 21, a

labourer at docks, living in a common lodging-house, was charged with
feloniously wounding Thomas Buckley and Edwin Buckley, by stabbing
them with a knife. The matter arose out of a fight between them in Flower
and Dean Street, Spitalfields. Edwin Buckley was taken to the London
Hospital, and it was found that he had received no less than 14 stabs. The
prisoner was remanded.”
As brief as this snippet was, when the case was brought before the magistrate at the
end of the following month, we learned several significant particulars that would prove
quite important in order to make out recurring patterns of behaviour. From the
transcript of the Old Bailey21, dated the 29th March 1882, we learn that “Edwin” Buckley
was actually Edward Buckley (cigar maker) and Charles Donovan actually John
Donovan. We also learn the stabbing was the first recorded instance of Edward
claiming residency of 50 Dempsey Street: a now vanished thoroughfare which ran
north of Commercial Road, parallel to Jubilee Street, just a couple streets away from
Morgan Street, where Thomas is recorded as residing.
19
The National Archives; Kew, London, England; HO 140 Home Office: Calendar of Prisoners; Reference: HO 140/47 (page 384)
20
(1882) untitled snippet on the Fashion Street stabbing, Eastern Post, 18 February
21
Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 8.0, 11 September 2023), March 1882, trial of JOHN
DONOVAN (21) (t18820327-417)
11
Dempsey Street22
Incidentally it is also the first (convincing) incident where Edward is being connected
to a knife attack, although we have to reserve judgement as to who stabbed who
exactly and why.
Lastly, we are made aware of the actual date at which the stabbing occurred (4 th
February).
The article is an adequate illustration of the undying, eternal truth that press reports
are more often than not riddled with errors, underlining the necessity of cross-
referencing any such report with separately obtained sources, if available.
The proceedings were held at the Old Bailey on the 29th March 1882. The record
mentions an Edward Buckley, cigar maker of 50 Dempsey Street, as the victim of John
Donovan, the latter being charged with "Feloniously cutting and wounding Edward
Buckley with intent to do him grievous bodily harm."
Edward's brother Thomas opened with the following statement:
“I am a general dealer, of 29, Morgan Street—on Saturday night, 24th

February, about 12.30, I came to take my father home—I found him in
22
In red the now vanished Dempsey Street; the (still existing) street to the immediate left is Jubilee Street. Image reproduced by
courtesy of Google online mapping.
12
Fashion Street, Spitalfields, with his coat off, and the worse for liquor—the
prisoner was there with his coat also off—he had something in his hand
which glittered; I cannot say whether it was a ring or anything else; I said
before the Magistrate that I thought it was a knife—my brother's nose was
bleeding—I tried to pull him away, but he would not come with me—they
fought for about five minutes- some constables stopped them—they went
through a court and began to fight again, and a lot of them got round me,
and I was stabbed, but I cannot positively say that the prisoner stabbed me,
because there was such a lot of them.”
At this stage Thomas' original deposition was reworded, after he informed the court: "I
cannot remember what I said before the Magistrate."
“The prisoner (Donovan) came after us and took out a knife; he stabbed my
brother in the thumb, and my brother fell down.
I did not see him take out a knife. I cannot remember whether I said, "The
prisoner stabbed me in the hand and chin" - I was sober- no money has
been paid to me since, or any arrangement made- I do not know who
wounded my hand- I gave the prisoner in custody because I thought it was
he who stabbed me, as he was the one who was fighting.”
Then Donovan started his cross-examination of the witness (question omitted).

Thomas replied:
"You asked me to take my brother away. - I had no row with anyone

afterwards."
Constable Alfred Clark was the first officer on the scene. He stated:
“On Sunday morning, 5th February, Buckley called me and complained that
the prisoner had stabbed him - I took the prisoner, who said, "You did not
tell him about striking me on the right arm with a poker"—Thomas Buckley
gave him in charge for stabbing his brother, and I took him to the station,
and then went to the hospital and found Edward Buckley there—it was 17
days before they were fit to attend at Worship Street.”
Now John Gillies, the police station-bound sergeant receiving the prisoner, took the
stage:
“I was at the station when the prisoner was brought there, and Thomas
Buckley charged him with stabbing him in the head and hand; his head was
enveloped in bandages—the prisoner said "I was in the crowd when
Thomas Buckley got a piece of iron from a Lodging-house, and was about
13
to strike me; I struggled with him for it, but never had a knife in my hand"—
they were both sober—this knife (produced) was found on the prisoner.”
An interesting comment, not least because Donovan makes mention of one of the
Buckley brothers apparently comfortable enough with his surroundings to extract a
piece of iron from a nearby lodging house.
Next up was Edward himself, who stated for the record:
“I am a cigar maker, and live at 50, Dempsey Street—I do not remember

seeing the prisoner after 8.30 on 4th February, or fighting with anybody, but
I found myself in the hospital next morning with two stabs in my abdomen
and one on my left hand—I was there 17 days—I do not remember having
a row, or giving an account of it to the hospital surgeon.”
The hospital surgeon in question, one Abraham Cohen, confirmed fairly hefty injuries
of the left hand as well as at least one stab in the abdomen:
"I am house surgeon at the Metropolitan Free Hospital—on 4th February, a

little after midnight, Edward and Thomas Buckley came there—on Edward
I found a severe punctured wound in the abdomen, and an oblique wound
on his left hand, the arteries of which were spurting—he had been drinking,
but he gave an intelligible account of how it happened—the wound on the
abdomen was in a very dangerous place—this knife would inflict the
wounds."
The left-hand wound(s) would be mentioned in passing during another court case 23
involving Edward some five years later, at which Edward's left hand was brought up
by the arresting police sergeant for some reason, stating:
"I have seen the prisoner's left hand, I do not think there is much the matter
with it—he has not told me that it is partially crippled, nor did I hear it at the
police court."
Why the left hand would have been brought up all those years later is unknown, but it
would not be venturing too far outside the realms of possibilities to argue that the
crippled-left-hand-argument may have been raised at some point by the defence as a
way of undermining the prosecutor's strategy. But whatever the reason, it's an
intriguing reference indicative of a link with the 1882 Fashion Street stabbing.
That the incident occurred in Fashion Street is interesting in and of itself for a number
of reasons, not least in the fact that it was located very much in the heart of the cigar
23
Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 8.0, 11 September 2023), April 1887, trial of EDWARD
BUCKLEY (33) (t18870425-590).
14
making industry in the East End. Its connections to the arrival of tobacco from the
United States down at Tobacco Dock are beyond question, and there were several
cigar making companies based close by. As expected we found many-a-resident cigar
maker in the immediate vicinity.
In an attempt at reconstructing the Fashion Street stabbing, one might deduce Daniel
and Edward had been drinking, possibly at "The Queens Head", when Thomas came
to take his father home that Friday evening only to find Edward with a nosebleed
fighting with John Donovan who, for his part, appeared to have had something "shiny"
in his hands.
Thomas, claiming he tried to pull his brother away, stated Edward would not come with
him as the latter continued to fight until the police arrived. It seems Thomas was
stabbed in the hand, Edward in the thumb and abdomen, although the exposed
arteries spurting blood would suggest a more severe infliction than just a simple hand
cut, especially since he, Edward, apparently spent no less than 17 days in treatment
at the Metropolitan Free Hospital. In addition to the left-hand injuries, the attending
surgeon (Cohen) told the magistrate presiding over the trial, that the wounds included
an abdominal wound in what he describes as “a very dangerous place”.
Ironically (but perhaps not unheard of) the man who was at the receiving end of some
serious knife wounds, was soon to inflict one of his own.
Frances Jones
Frances Jones (possibly known as "Fanny") in many ways is quintessential to the

story, featuring in the beginning, middle and end of it, all accounts clearly pointing to
a long-nurtured obsession towards her on his part.
As the reader will learn, the historical record recounts several serious attacks by
Edward on Frances, whose story in some ways is the story of many women labelled
as unfortunates in the area. How she lived and suffered under the tyranny of Edward
Buckley is, apart from any wider social significance, quite central to our story. As far
as we are concerned, finding out about her ultimate fate is as pertinent a question as
the question of Edward’s potential connection to any of the Whitechapel murders.
Born in Hackney on the 12th July 186024 to Frederick Henry Jones and Elmina (or
Emma) Waterfield, Frances was the fourth daughter of what was to be a flock of eight,
including two boys born between the early 1850s and early 1870s.
24
England, Select Births and Christenings, 1538-1975, FHL Film Number 396244, 396245, 396246
15
Although there are prominent gaps in our knowledge of Frances' story, there still exists
a surprisingly tantalising vein of information we have been able to collect in the course
of our investigations. It is to be hoped other researchers, more capable than ourselves,
will unearth even more lest she fall back into historical oblivion like so many others.
The date of her death, for one thing, is not known. At least not with any certitude.
Although we have an Edward Buckley in several workhouse and infirmary records after
1900 describing himself as a "widower", we have not been able to discover either a
marriage or a date of death for Frances. What we did find was a reasonably easy-to-
follow set of census records as well as some entries in the Stepney records, all pointing
to a life awash with suffering.
Just in time for the 1861 census for Haggerstone West25, a nine-month-old Frances is
listed as youngest daughter to Frederick and Emma Jones, living on 48 Philip Street
in Hackney:
The family reemerges on Beale Road, Bow, by the time of the 1871 census26, listing
a ten-year-old Frances, the flock in the intervening period complemented with three
additional children, as well as a Waterfield relative.
After 1871 Frances' movements are difficult to trace, but it is likely she went into
service, as the 1881 census27 lists her as a 21-year-old "Fanny Jones" (born:
Hackney), occupation not known, boarding at 239 Whitechapel Road, a coffee shop
run by a Thomas Worton.
25
1861 England Census, Class: Rg 9; Piece: 245; Folio: 24; Page: 54; GSU roll: 542599 (page 56)
26
824894 (page 45)
27
1881 England Census, Class: RG11; Piece: 444; Folio: 65; Page: 4; GSU roll: 1341096 (page 5)
16
The occupation of the other boarder listed alongside Frances on this 1881 census,
one Alice Watkins, is also not known.
As dreaded coincidence would have it, in July of that year28 Alice was to suffer extreme
violence as a consequence of an attempted murder-suicide carried out by a man
named Robinson who, in a fit of jealous rage, shot her through the cheek in Brushfield
street, Bishopsgate, before shooting himself.
In the following year it appears Frances had become pregnant. A 22-year-old Frances
Jones was admitted29 into the Whitechapel infirmary on the 17th September 1882, with
the cause of admission given as "labour", and her place of residence listed as 239
Whitechapel Road, the same as the 1881 census. What became of the child, if
anything, is unknown.
After her discharge on the 30th September, Frances was again admitted into an
infirmary30 on the 3rd April 1884, her residence still stated as the coffee shop at 239
Whitechapel Road. It appears Frances went into labour on admittance, but it was not
to be: she gave birth to a stillborn child and was discharged ten days later.
After this we find no trace of Frances in any workhouse or infirmary record until years
later, January 1885 to be exact, but by that time her sufferings had already been
recorded by many-a-press report recounting Edward's continuous attacks upon her
person.
28
(1881) "A Tragedy in London", Dundee Courier, 18 July
29
London, England, Workhouse Admission and Discharge Records, 1764-1921, London Metropolitan Archives; London, England;
Reference Number: STBG/WH/123/015 (page 191)
30
Reference Number: StBG/WL/123/16 (page 109)
17
The Stabbing at Sparrick's Row
Following the death of her infant, it appears Frances remained connected to Worton's
coffee shop on Whitechapel Road, as it was this location Edward Buckley attempted
to gain access to on the 14th June 1884. The London Evening Standard reports31:
“Edward Buckley was charged with being drunk and disorderly and
assaulting John Mann, 402 H, in the execution of his duty.
At two o'clock this morning the Constable on duty in Whitechapel-road saw

the prisoner at the East London coffee-shop, and he was demanding
admittance. The landlord refused to allow him to enter, and told him to go
somewhere else. He said he would go in, and threw his hat into the
landlord's face. As he refused to go away, Mann took him into custody, when
he struck him in the chest and face, sending his helmet flying off. The
constable proved several previous convictions against the Prisoner, only
one being for assault, the others for being drunk and disorderly.-- Mr.
Lushington fined him 30s. or 14 days.”
Just two months after this incident at the coffee shop, some considerable distance
away, Constable Bowen was walking his regular beat as he turned into New Street,
just south of the river, very near to London Bridge, when suddenly he heard a woman
screaming “murder!” As the constable proceeded in the direction of the cries, he turned
into Sparrick's Row, a “dark, secluded spot” surrounded by hop warehouses at the
rear of Guy’s Hospital (Southwark). Whilst Bowen rushed towards the source of the
screams, he witnessed what was described as a "murderous assault" by the Morning
Post32 in an article on the 28th August 1884.
In this report we learn about the particulars of the attack, the majority of which
remained more or less unchanged throughout subsequent reports:
“At nine o'clock on Tuesday night, a police constable named Bowen hearing
a woman shrieking "Murder" in Sparrick's Row, a secluded spot consisting
solely of hop warehouses immediately behind Guy's Hospital, found, on
hastening there, a woman lying on the ground and a man standing over her.
The man, on seeing the constable, ran away. The woman complained of
being stabbed. The constable, giving chase, overtook the fellow, who cried,
"If you don't let me go I'll knife you too." With great difficulty he was
overpowered and taken to the Stone's-end police-station. The woman
followed as best she was able. The divisional surgeon, Dr. J. Allender, found
31
(1884) untitled report under the Thames police court section, London Evening Standard, 14 June
32
(1884) “Murderous Assault”, Morning Post, 28 August
18
her to be in a very weak condition. She had received a stab in the abdomen
with a pocket-knife, which had penetrated her ulster, dress, petticoats, &c,
and cut into her flesh nearly an inch. In addition she had several cuts on the
hands, received while endeavouring to wrench the knife from her assailant.
The woman, whose name is Frances Jones, states that she had lived with
the man, whose name is Edward Buckley, of Farlin-street, Commercial-
road, as his wife, but latterly returned to her father's house in Long-lane,
Bermondsey. She had met him on Tuesday night at London-bridge, whence
they walked to the spot named.”
A murderous assault indeed, although as far as we're aware Buckley didn't spend a
day in goal for the offence. As we will later learn, there is a reason for that.
The assault did get fairly widely reported on (as near as South London and as far as
Northern Ireland), most of the articles giving the basics with a consistency one might
expect from syndication.
The South London Chronicle, reporting33 on the assault on the 30th August 1884,
describes the attack as "A determined case of attempted murder", adding some details
which were absent from the Morning Post one, such as the street the arresting
constable was patrolling. In addition, the perpetrator's purported place of residence is
mentioned as the article proceeds to note that "he had written to her asking for an
interview on Tuesday at London Bridge, and after he met her, attacked her “in the
manner described".
Unfortunately, we were unable to locate a Farbin or Farling Street anywhere in or near

the East End, prompting us to venture out on an almost Martin Fido-esque conflation
of names-hypothesis, discerning Fenton Street behind the non-existent "Farbin
Street", and Tarling Street behind the no less enigmatic "Farling Street". Tarling Street,
horizontally leads almost directly into Watney Street, which in turn connects to Upper
Chapman Street: the address where, according to the 1881 London Census 34, a
"mason" Edward was lodging in 1881.
33
(1884) “Attempted murder near Guy’s Hospital”, South London Chronicle, 30 August
34
Census Returns of England and Wales, 1881. Kew, Surrey, England: The National Archives of the UK (TNA): Public Record
Office (PRO), 1881, Class: RG11; Piece: 456; Folio: 88; Page: 31; GSU roll: 1341099
19
35
The South London Press36 meanwhile, also on the 30th, corrects "a determined case
of attempted murder" to "a very determined case of attempted murder", shifting the
date of the assault from Tuesday 26th to Wednesday the 27th.
One can understand how a reporter might end up conflating addresses and confusing
dates, but in order to make any reasonable determination as to the validity of the
content, one has to thoroughly compare all available reports, including the syndicated
ones, in order to get a full overview of the reporting issues.
Considering how frequent errors crept into press reports, it's actually surprising most
articles managed to get the names of the perpetrator and victim right. And then there's
the very plausible suggestion that the perpetrator himself purposely provided the
authorities with bogus information.
Through later articles, special significance is attached to the testimony of Frances

Jones herself, referencing having lived with Buckley at some previous time, suggesting
35
The Ordnance survey map extract, 1:1056 scale series of maps-1895 is reproduced with permission of the National Library of
Scotland
36
(1884) “Attempted murder near Guy’s Hospital”, South London Press, 30 August
20
they had known one another for at least some period of time prior to the attempted
murder.
We were unable to find a single hint of a conviction immediately after the stabbing, nor
indications of a possible asylum committal. The fact Edward was seemingly
overpowered "with great difficulty" (not to mention the death threat directed at the
arresting constable) appears not to have added to the severity of the charge in the
eyes of the prosecuting authorities. Perhaps a later article, covering the aftermath of
the assault, provides us with the answer to the question why the authorities, even
confronted with such blatant violence against one of their own, were unable to secure
a conviction. Titled "Alleged savage attack on a woman", the South London Press37
had this to add on the 13th September, hinting at the possibility of Edward's threats
and attacks predating his current atrocities:
“Constable 174 M said that the prosecutrix had formerly lived with the
prisoner, but owing to his conduct towards her, she left him and returned to
her parent's home. Since then the prisoner had threatened her.”
In closing the report adds:
“Dr. Alexander, the medical officer of the police, attended her, and she went
home after the charge was entered at the police station. He, however, had
not been able to find her since.
Mr. Bridge further remanded him, and agreed to accept bail.”
No prosecutrix, no case. On the other hand, there are several problems with this
particular press report, as it is the only one describing not an abdominal stabbing
wound but "a severe wound on her head". The account also differs significantly from
most others on the incident, beginning with the fact it describes the crime location as
"Spaniards-Road". In addition it has the name of the attending surgeon as Dr.
Alexander instead of Dr. Allender, besides making no mention of the alleged
previously agreed upon meeting at London Bridge. Instead, it states the prisoner
simply "found" Frances at the secluded spot behind Guy's Hospital.
These notable differences may cause one to attach less significance to the statement
that Buckley had threatened Frances before she had purportedly returned to her
father's home in Bermondsey and prior to Edward's purported written invitation to meet
up at London Bridge, although later reports covering later attacks appear to suggest
this was par for the course for Edward, so however tenuous the report appears to be,
we're not immediately inclined to dismiss the mention out of hand.
37
(1884) 'Alleged savage attack on a woman', South London Press, 13 September.
21
Thick as Thieves
The amount of felonies Edward was involved in when he was not in lock up is quite
extensive and at times rather overwhelming. One might say with some degree of
confidence that whenever Edward was not locked up in prison, he was out wreaking
havoc. Sometimes in the unlikeliest of locations.
As we pointed out before: if Edward was convicted for the obvious attempted homicide
on Frances not two months prior, the sentence would not have amounted to much, if
it would have been imposed at all. We discovered a man who we think is Edward not
too long after, in Islington of all places, apparently attempting to snatch a total of £90
from a horse-dealer's pockets. On the 12th October 1884 The People reported38 on the
incident, describing it as "A mysterious Case":
“Robert Jacob, horse-dealer, of Huntingdon-street, Kingsland-road; Edward

Buckley, general dealer, of Hackin-street, Stepney; and Herbert Pierascini,
house decorator, Radner-street, Peckham, were charged with having been
concerned together in stealing from the person of James Arnold, horse-
dealer, of Walmer-road, near Deal, bank cheques of the value of pound 70
and the sum of £20 in gold, at Market-street, Islington.-- The prisoners were
respectable looking men, but were undefended.-- It appeared that in this
case an extraordinary mistake had been committed by the prosecutor. It
seemed that on the previous day he journeyed to London, and, as he
believed, brought with him in his pockets the notes and money named,
amounting in all to pound 90. He attended a horse sale at the Cattle Market,
Islington, and during the sale he noticed that the prisoners were very near
him, and that one of them held his hand in a very suspicious position. He
felt in his pocket and then found there was no money and the notes were
not there. He believed the prisoners had robbed him of them and gave them
into custody. On returning to his home the same night, however, he
discovered to his surprise that the whole of the money was beneath his
pillow, and he presumed it must have fallen out of his pocket and been
placed there by the house-keeper. He then felt sorry that he had given the
men in custody, and at once communicated the fact to the police. —
Detective Fletcher, Y division, said this was so, and the prosecutor wished
to withdraw from the charge. – Mr. Barstow said he was glad that he did not
stand close to the prosecutor when he missed his money in mistake. (Much
laughter.) He could do nothing now but discharge the prisoners, and he was
very sorry they had been locked up all night through peculiar and unusual
mistake. – The men were discharged.”
38
(1884) “A Mysterious Case”, The People, 12 October
22
Peculiar indeed. Whatever it was that made the prosecutor forget all about the £90 in
his pockets, it was apparently unusual enough for the reporter to describe the event
as inexplicable. For all intents and purposes, it most emphatically was.
You'll notice this Edward Buckley and his co-conspirators are being described as
"respectable looking men", suggestive of an attempt to "blend in" and deflect suspicion
(that's if one would presuppose malicious strategizing on the part of the threesome).
But then again the matter could have been exactly as reported: a simple case of
happenstance and faulty memory.
If indeed this Edward Buckley was the Edward Buckley, the authorities were obviously
completely unaware of who exactly they were releasing from custody. Although the
perpetrators' reported look of "respectability" might have played some part in the
prosecutor dropping charges, not having anyone legally assisting them during the
proceedings sounds like a risky strategy all in all, if strategy it was. As was so often
the case with Edward's countless recorded court appearances throughout the years,
when everything was said and done, all things ended in winks, nods, and jolly laughter.
And then there's the matter of the residences given for Jacob, Buckley and Pierascini,
as well as the distance from their excursions so far removed from their respective
abodes, inferring either that the would-be-perpetrators could have rallied around the
wheelers and dealers of horse-dealing Islington on some genuine business venture
(after all, one of the three, Jacob, was described as a horse-dealer himself), or their
mission had a less noble objective and the prosecutor, by extension, was intimidated
into withdrawing charges.
If the latter hypothesis is correct, chances are the defendants were mutually
acquainted through some previous incarceration and, if one ventures a further guess
into the particulars of this strange affair, got caught red-handed while attempting to
empty the prosecutor's pockets. That, in turn, would presuppose some kind of
organised effort on the part of the threesome, perhaps hoping to avoid detection by
purposely choosing their hunting ground some distance away, dispersing back
towards their individual lodgings once the loot was divided amongst them. Future
research will hopefully determine if there's some truth to the conjecture. But whatever
the circumstance, after the threesome was released from custody, it didn't take
Edward long to redirect his wrath once again towards poor Frances Jones.
"Covered with blood up to the hilt"
On the 22nd November 1884 Frances had apparently reconnected with Edward, as the
East London Observer records39 the following assault, which again makes for dreadful
39
(1884) “Serious Charge of Stabbing”, East London Observer, 22 November
23
reading. On this occasion it was a fork inserted into Frances’ back, the report adding
that the weapon used was "covered with blood up to the hilt":
“Monday,- Before Mr Saunders Serious Charge of Stabbing,- Edward

Buckley, 30, a salesman, of 25, Fenton Street, Commercial-road, was
charged with unlawfully wounding his wife, Frances Buckley, with intend to
do her bodily harm.- Police-constable Henry Green, 330 H, said that on the
previous afternoon he was called to Fenton-street, and saw the prisoner's
wife there. She complained of being stabbed in the back. On going into the
house, witness met the prisoner at the door of his room. On seeing witness
he dropped a fork, which had one prong broken, and was covered with blood
up to the hilt. He then took the prisoner into custody, and charged him with
unlawfully wounding his wife. Prisoner made no reply to the charge. The
prisoner's wife was not present, and he (the constable) believed she was
being kept out of the way by the prisoner's friends.- The constable was
directed by Mr. Saunders to go and try and find Mrs Buckley. On his return
he informed the magistrate that although he had made every inquiry, he was
not able to find her whereabouts. - Mr. Saunders remanded the prisoner for
a week, and refused to take bail. - John Buckley, brother to the above, was
then charged with assaulting William Drummond, a solicitor's clerk, of 20,
Tower's-buildings, Wapping, whilst the police were arresting the other one.-
He was fined 20s and costs, or in default 14 days' imprisonment.”
As alluded to before, it need not be pointed out that the spiriting away of Frances Jones
so soon after an assault occurring is conspicuously reminiscent of her likely
disappearance in the aftermath of the attack at Sparrick's Row.
As noted in the article, constable Green came back empty handed after being directed
by Saunders to find Frances, despite having made "every inquiry". It was added that
the constable believed "she was kept out of the way by the prisoner's friends". The
recurring mention of unspecified "others" actively working to prohibit the victim
speaking to the authorities directly after an assault, is notable, although in this
particular instance it would appear John had been tied up at the time, assaulting a
solicitor's clerk in Wapping. But then it seems there was always another Buckley
brother standing by to come to Edward's rescue, as (especially) Thomas was reported
to have done on multiple occasions both before and after 1884, but one cannot entirely
discount the possibility that some fellow-ex-convicts may have been involved as well,
keeping Frances hidden away at Edward's behest. Whatever the circumstance, it
would appear Edward again escaped the consequences of his assaults, possibly as a
result of the prosecutrix habitually withdrawing from the proceedings.
Not too long after the attack Frances ("fur sewer") admitted herself into the Raine
Street workhouse. Described as "destitute" on the 12th January 1885 admission
24
record40, the address from which she was admitted will undoubtedly ring a familiar bell
with the readership: "26 Princes Square", next door up from the Bridge of Hope, at
which location many unfortunates were sheltered in the hopes of "rehabilitating" them
into the Victorians perception of normalcy.
Frances was discharged from the infirmary three days later.
On the 29th June 1885 we find 29-year-old Edward41 before the magistrate, brought in
by Constable 370 H on the charge of being drunk and disorderly and using "obscene
language" (O Lang), the offender receiving a comparatively minor fine (2 shillings or 3
days goal) as was usual for an offence for which many hundreds of others were
routinely arrested.
40
Reference Number: STBG/SG/118/38 (page 40/41)
41
London Metropolitan Archives, Thames Magistrates Court, PS/TH/A/01/006
25
On the 15th August 1885 Edward features yet again in a report published 42 by the
Tower Hamlets Independent and East End Local Advertiser, this time being charged
with battery of a Hackney hansom cab driver just outside the East London Tavern on
Whitechapel Road:
“Refusing a Cab Fare Edward Buckley was charged with refusing to pay a
cab fare, and assaulting Herman Tage, a Hackney carriage driver. The
prosecutor was driving along Whitechapel-road, when the prisoner called
out "Hansom," jumped into the cab, and directing him to drive to Hanbury-
street. On reaching the East London Tavern he jumped out of the vehicle
and entered the house. He remained there until they were all turned out,
and the cab-man asked him to settle with him. The prisoner refused to give
him any money, and struck him a violent blow on the jaw.
Mr. Saunders fined the prisoner 10s., and 10s. costs, or 14 days.”
On the 11th August 1885 Edward (age 33) was brought in43 for the assault by
Constable 268 H.
On the 5th September 1885 the East London Observer ran a report44 on yet another
assault on Frances Jones, titled: "It almost served her right". The report details an
assault which occurred on the previous Wednesday (2nd September) and it turns one's
stomach for two reasons in particular: the cowardly violence exerted by Buckley, and
the rather nonchalant way it was handled by the court's magistrate:
42
(1885) “Refusing a Cab Fare”, Tower Hamlets Independent and East End Local Advertiser, 15 August
43
44
(1885) "It almost served her right", East London Observer, 5 September
26
“Edward Buckley, of 14, Hanbury-street, Whitechapel, was charged with
violently assaulting Frances Jones, 15, Devonshire-street, Commercial-
road, St. George's-in-the-East.- Prosecutrix said about 9.30 on Wednesday
night she was in the East London Tavern, in the Whitechapel-road, drinking.
The prisoner came up to her, without any provocation, and struck her a
violent blow in the mouth. She did not say anything to the prisoner. - By
Buckley: Last Sunday Buckley gave her £3 8s. to go and take a room, so
that they might live together. The clothes she was wearing she bought with
the money. - Mr. John Woolf, the proprietor of the East London Tavern, said
he saw Buckley strike and kick the prosecutrix in a most cruel manner. - Mr.
Biron said practically the prosecutrix had robbed the prisoner of his money,
but should just not take the law into his own hands. He would have to find
one surety in £10 to keep the peace for six months.”
But when it comes to Edward, no peace was to be kept. Thanks to the respective
reports of the 15th August and the 5th September, both centering around the East
London Tavern, we were now able to confidently cross-connect perpetrator and victim
by location. But just when we thought we had finally fixed Edward to a specific abode,
the documentation threw a spanner in our assumptions. Or so we believed.
On the 1st October 1885 the London Evening Standard reported45 on an Edwin Buckley
breaking a plate-glass window of a lodging house/coffee-shop, property of one
Elisabeth Auliffe, on 77 Cannon Street Road. In quite the matter-of-fact way the
perpetrator expanded on his reason for doing so:
“I asked her for a bed, and as she would not let me have it, I broke the
window.”
It is highly improbable that this was our man for the simple reason that the glass-
breaking upstart who was summarily sentenced to a 14-day lock-up after the incident,
was picked up just two days before what was to become Buckley's most terrible attack
to date. An attack not only indicative of the attacks continuing, but also pointing to an
apparent escalation of the violence.
The Devonshire Street Attack
The first reports we were able to pull up about the attack are dated the 3rd October
1885, published in both the Evening News46 and London Evening Standard47, both
mentioning the event as having occurred the previous day (Friday 2 nd October),
precisely one month after the East London Tavern incident. We have attempted to
45
(1885) untitled report under the Thames police court section, London Evening Standard, 1 October
46
(1885) “Charge of Attempted Murder”, Evening News, 3 October
47
27
reconstruct the circumstances of the event using all available press reports on the
incident, which exceed even the amount of syndicated reproductions published in the
aftermath of the Sparrick's Row attack, the majority conforming to the outlines of the
story as printed up by the London Evening Standard of the 3rd October, which reads
as follows:
“Edward Buckley, a cigar maker, of 14, Helmsley-street, Whitechapel, was

charged with unlawfully cutting and wounding Frances Jones, of 5,
Devonshire-street, Mile-end. – At the commencement of the case it was
stated that the injured woman was in the London Hospital, and,
consequently, unable to appear. – Constable Geo. Linney, 37 H R, said
about nine o'clock last night he was on duty in the Commercial-road, when
he was called to No. 5, Devonshire-street, St. George's. When he got there
he saw that the girl, Frances Jones, had a severe cut on the left side of her
face, and one of her eyes bulged out. There was a large quantity of blood
about the place, and a number of other things were also covered. She
picked a knife off the bed, and gave it him, and afterwards handed him a
broken stick. She was then conveyed to the hospital, where she was
detained. Witness reported the case. He afterwards went to prisoner's
house with Sergeant 26 H. – Sergeant Adams said that morning he went to
14, Hanbury-street, Spitalfields, which was a coffee shop. He went to a room
at the top of the house, and saw the prisoner go behind the door, fully
dressed. Witness told him that he should take him into custody on a charge
of wounding Jones, and he replied, "Very well." On the way to the station
he said, "It is a pity a man should be pulled up for a brass name. It is only a
day or two since I gave her 2 pounds." He made no reply to the charge.--
Two women came to the station, and said that the prisoner locked the door
before he assaulted Jones. There was fresh blood on the knife.-- Mr.
Thomas O. Openshaw, house surgeon at the London Hospital, said when
the woman Jones was brought in he saw she had a cut 3in. long on the
nose, which extended to the left jaw. The cut was about half an inch in depth.
Her hands were black and very much swollen, and the body was bruised. –
Mr. Lushington ordered the Prisoner to be remanded.-- The Prisoner then
said he knew nothing of the assault.”
What immediately jumps off the page is the location the attack took place at:
Devonshire Street. Quite a ways away from the East London Tavern on Whitechapel
Road, although it was all but affixed to Fenton Street, just south of Commercial Road,
at which location Edward attacked Frances with a fork some ten months earlier.
Interestingly, 5 Devonshire Street was mentioned48 not a month after the attack in an
entirely unrelated incident at which a man suspected of larceny of a watch and chain
was arrested at the address. By this time, Edward would have been locked up at
48
(1885) “Daring Highway Robbery”, Eastern Post, 28 November
28
Coldbath Fields Prison serving his twelve-month term for this most recent monstrosity,
but it might be of some interest to point out that the address was apparently used as
a hideout for an ex-convict just ten days after Edward’s conviction, for some reason
choosing this particular address to evade capture.
Frances, by her own account being "an unfortunate girl", as well as the immediate
presence of the two reluctant women witnessing Buckley going into Frances Jones'
room and coolly closing the door behind him, might have resided in one of the rooms
of 5 Devonshire Street on Edward's bidding, although we have as of yet not attempted
a real search into the three women providing testimony at the trial, nor have we
explored in any depth the question what their connections to the address may have
been. Something we hope future research may shed some light on, especially since a
couple years prior the neighbouring premises (3 Devonshire Street) was apparently49
“frequented by unfortunate women, who went there with sailors and others”, opening
up the possibility of Edward having been Frances' “bully” for at least some period of
time. But until such time as we have gathered solid documented proof to support the
supposition, we must for now call it what it is: speculation.
The little side note of the constable witnessing Buckley going behind the door at the
top floor of 14 Hanbury Street was published almost word for word in several accounts
leading up to the trial itself, apparently added to underscore Buckley's suspicious and
somewhat strange behaviour after the fact. Interestingly the article50 mentions that the
surgeon who first took a (medical) look at Frances was none other than Thomas O
Openshaw (of Lusk-kidney fame) who, for his part, confirmed the attempt at facial
mutilation and provided some additional details.
The descriptions given are once again testament to the vile nature of the perpetrator.
The Times report on the attack dated 5 October leaves out the jaw-detail entirely and
just has the cut "extending…towards the left cheek", adding that "the wound was about
half an inch in depth". The In-patients Register (Surgeons)51, describing the treated
injury, quite plainly, as "Stab of Cheek":
Date: 1885 October 2

General No.: 1109
Accident No.: 1
Without tickets No.: [blank]
49
(1883) “A Scene in Court”, Tower Hamlets Independent and East End Local Advertiser, 21 April
50
(1885) untitled report under the Thames police court section, London Evening Standard, 3 October, Ibid.
51
Physicians and Surgeons In-patients register, Surgeons, 1885 (RLHLH/M/1/13)
29
With tickets No.: [blank]
Patient’s Name: Frances Jones
Residence: 5 Devonshire Street Com. Rd. St. Geo
Age and Civil State: 25 S [single]
Occupation: Machinist
Ward: Mary
Cause: Stab of Cheek
Surgeon: Rivington
Time of discharge: Oct 10//85
Days spent in hospital: 8
The deputy archivist of Barts Hospital Trust assured us52 this entry is the only record
they hold relating to the incident, sadly none of the corresponding surgeon case notes
from the era having survived. The Penny Illustrated, dated the 10th October 1885 and
titled "A Whitechapel Horror"53, provides us with just a generic description of "very
severe wounds to the face". The People on the 11th October54 paraphrases constable
George Linney, first one on the scene of No. 5 Devonshire Street:
“When he got there he saw that the girl, Frances Jones, had a severe cut
on the left side of her face, and one of her eyes bulged out.”
On the same day Lloyds Weekly News added55 a small but curiously specific detail to
Dr. Openshaw's observations, describing the wound as being "three inches in length
on the left side of the face", but adding: "being half an inch in depth at the lower part"
[our italics].
In another East London Observer article56, this time from the 17th, Openshaw
seemingly reverts back to his initial description:
“She was suffering from a cut- three inch in length and half inch in depth-
across the nose.”
He goes on to state that "the wound extended to the left jaw", also noting the swollen
and bruised hands. Reports in the days and weeks following did not add much to the
aforementioned wound descriptions, but they all go into more detail than the
euphemistic "Stab of Cheek" referenced earlier. In any case, if the descriptions of
Openshaw are accurately reported on, we may settle on the cut starting at the bridge
of the nose, proceeding downward via the left cheek and forcefully ending at or just
above the corresponding jaw. This seems to imply that the entire length of the cut
wasn't three inches; the cut on the nose was, after which it extended further along the
52
Dawe-Woodings, Ginny (archivist of Barts (NHS)). E-mail to Jurriaan Maessen (17 July 2023).
53
(1885) "A Whitechapel Horror", Penny Illustrated Paper, 10 October
54
(1885) "Savage Assault", The People, 11 October
55
(1885) "Serious Charge of Wounding", Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper, 11 October
56
(1885) "The Attempted Murder in St. George's: Committal of the Prisoner", East London Observer, 17 October
30
left cheek and down towards the left jaw. At the authors' request an artist reconstructed
Jones' facial wounds based on Openshaw's recorded comments, selecting Biddy the
Chiver as his model:
Sketch by artist Nic Wilmot, June 2023
As Jose Oranto noted at some point57, Biddy was buried not too far from Edward in
St. Patrick's Catholic Cemetery in Leytonstone, a fact unbeknownst to both us and the
artist who sketched the reconstruction at our request.
Frances' eight-day hospital stay fits in exactly with the Thames police court records of
3rd October58, recording Edward's preliminary sentencing after he was hauled before
the magistrate by Police Sergeant 26 H with (what we think is) the added remark "ret
to 10th", indicating the trial was postponed in her absence:
And like clockwork Edward re-appeared on the 10th59, after which it was held up again:
57
Plot 11b, row 44, grave number 19; Bridget Enright buried as "Bridget O'Rourke, Jose Oranto, JTR Forums, 6 September 2022
58
59
London Metropolitan Archives, Thames Magistrates Court, PS/TH/A/01/006, Ibid.
31
The alert reader may have noticed a familiar name near the bottom of the page,
second to last entry, charged by the magistrate with stealing a hammer on the very
same day and before the very same magistrate60, but such things are best left
uncommented on.
After PS 26 H returned with Edward on the 10 th, a preliminary sentence was ruled:
"committed for trial, one month or 25 pound". If this reading is correct, the trial was
postponed yet again, with the date being set in a month or so, the £25 bail indicating
the prisoner could pay up and walk free until the trial was resumed or await trial from
behind bars if he didn't. What we know is that Police Sergeant 26 H was in fact Police
Sergeant Daniel Adams, who made some ripper-related arrests pre and post Kelly,
retiring from the Metropolitan Police in 1893.
Back to the attack itself. In addition to the wound descriptions there are the infuriatingly
ominous references to a broken stick handed to the constable by the heavily wounded
Frances alongside the blooded knife. Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper, on the 11th, goes
into slightly more detail61 regarding the "number of other things" that were apparently
covered in blood, mentioning "there was a large quantity of blood on things lying on
the bed" (emphasis added). It also makes mention of the "blood-stained knife" being
handed to Linney, as well as the broken stick mentioned earlier.
60
she may be the same as the Annie Chapman (aged 45) who is recorded in the Thames Police Court Register on 10 October
1885 as being convicted of stealing a hammer, being fined 20/- or 14 days", Martin Fido, Paul Begg & Keith Skinner, The Complete
Jack The Ripper A-Z - The Ultimate Guide to The Ripper Mystery (p. 143). John Blake. Kindle Edition.
61
(1885) "Serious Charge of Wounding", Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper, 11 October, Ibid.
32
In this report (titled "Serious Charge of Wounding"), just one day after Frances'
discharge from the London Hospital, the narrative appears to change somewhat:
“She struck the prisoner with something, and he then struck her back again,
but with what, she was unable to say, as that was all she recollected,
and:
When she came to she found that she had been injured, but was unable to
say how she was cut. —,”
and:
“She gave her evidence with evident reluctance, and...she said she had no
proper recollection of what had happened, as she was very much the worse
for drink at the time.”
By the 17th October the story appeared to have again shifted slightly, downgrading the
event from obvious attempted murder to a domestic dispute gone sour. The East
London Observer article62, implicitly but inexplicably, reveals something else about
Edward Buckley: he was feared. And not just by Frances.
The fear of God (or Edward) had apparently also been put into several of the other
female witnesses who were called to give evidence at the preliminary trial, resulting in
an apparent similar bout of memory loss when interrogated at the later proceedings.
Where the same newspaper on the 3rd October63 had the female witnesses come to
the station, seemingly on their own accord, stating that Buckley "locked the door before
he assaulted Jones", they now seemed much less sure of their statements. Described
as "one of the female witnesses", a woman whose name is given as Martha Siffetts
declares that "at the request of the prosecutrix she went and fetched the prisoner".
"She afterwards heard the prosecutrix say, "I'll dress myself and go out with
you."”
At that time Frances was lying on the bed, bleeding, and had her hands up in a
supplicating manner. Witness was unable to say how prosecutrix got injured",
compelling Sergeant Adams to remark:
“the witness, at the time, told him quite a different tale.”
More witnesses seemed to come out of the woodwork; not only hesitant to swear to
62
(1885) "The Attempted Murder in St. George's: Committal of the Prisoner", East London Observer, 17 October, Ibid.
63
(1885) "Charge of Attempted Murder", Evening News (London), 3 October, Ibid.
33
the severity of the event, but, like Jones and Siffetts, apparently experiencing sudden
memory loss when called to give evidence:
“all of whom, however, denied knowing anything about the affair.”
Ample time had elapsed between the 2nd October and the 17th for Frances to have
been discharged from hospital and for the witnesses to possibly be persuaded into
feigning amnesia by some person or persons unknown. The Evening News of the 12th
October also reveals64 the name of an additional witness to the assault: Caroline
Wade, as well as providing a different name for the aforementioned witness Siffetts,
calling her Martha Loppetta. Miss/Mrs Wade had this to say about the affair:
“when the prisoner came to the house to see prosecutrix they seemed to be
on friendly terms, and she did not see what occurred. She did not see any
blow struck.”
Here Sergeant Adams was also compelled to correct the witness:
“Sergeant Adams said the witness told him prisoner burst open the door.”
More significantly, the 12th October Evening News article has Frances describing
herself as "an unfortunate girl", echoing a later reference in which she is being
described as "an unfortunate named Frances Jones". With Buckley finally taken into
custody, the prisoner remarked:
“It is a pity a man should be pulled up for a brass nail [or "name", as other
reports will have it], - you know, a prostitute.”
Although the initial East London Observer article of the 3rd leaves out the prostitute
part, the description (or variations on it) appears in almost all of the later articles, again
indicating syndication. One would hope that whoever described65 the vicious assault
upon Frances only a couple of weeks earlier in the East London Tavern as "it almost
served her right" swallowed his tongue or ate it.
Let it also be noted for the record that at this occasion Buckley makes it appear
Frances was just some random prostitute, lamenting that it was a shame he should be
"pulled up" for one, when in fact we know he not only knew the victim for some
considerable amount of time, but also attacked her on several occasions before.
Regardless, Edward's words and behaviour during the arrest tells us something about
Edward's contempt towards prostitutes in general and also demonstrates Edward’s
apparent ease at disassociating himself from his own violent lunacy.
64
(1885) "The Charge of Attempted Murder At The East-End", Evening News (London), 12 October
65
(1885) "It almost served her right", East London Observer, 5 September, Ibid.
34
If not for the involvement of Police Sergeant Adams (26 H), one would have assumed
the prosecuting authorities were unaware of any previous assaults and treated each
consecutive case entirely separately, or as little more than a recurring manifestation
of a lover's quarrel (albeit a particularly brutal one). Our feeling is Adams must have
been well aware of Edward, possibly because he was alerted by Constable Linney
after he found Frances in Devonshire Street. The fact that the same Police Sergeant
brought Edward before the Magistrate on several occasions, may add some substance
to this suspicion. On the other hand one would think by now Mr Lushington would be
well aware of the prisoner's history as well.
In stark contrast to previous arrest outcomes, and despite Frances playing down the
attack after her release from the London Hospital, we finally have a magistrate
sentencing Edward to something more than a meagre fourteen-day incarceration. On
the 26th October 1885 Edward was ordered to serve a twelve-month sentence66 in
Coldbath Fields Prison on the charge of wounding Frances Jones, causing us (and
probably Frances herself) to breathe a sigh of relief.
Because Edward was already behind bars from the 3 rd October, the seven
intermediate days were deducted, putting the date of conviction on the 3 rd or 4th of
November or even late October 1885. In fact, later references67 68 have the sentence
of 12 months being ruled on the 26th, although one contemporary source69 has the
conviction date set firmly on the 3rd of the following month.
66
Home Office: Criminal Registers, Middlesex and Home Office: Criminal Registers, England and Wales; Records created or
inherited by the Home Office, Ministry of Home Security, and related bodies, Series HO 26 and HO 27; The National Archives of
the UK (TNA), Kew, Surrey, England. Class: HO 27; Piece: 201; Page: 247
67
The National Archives; Kew, London, England; HO 140 Home Office: Calendar of Prisoners; Reference: HO 140/98, 1887-
Merionethshire, Middlesex (page 125)
68
The National Archives; Kew, London, England; HO 140 Home Office: Calendar of Prisoners; Reference: HO 140/274- 1909,
London: Central Criminal Court (Old Bailey), North of the river, South of the river (page 883)
69
The National Archives; Kew, London, England; HO 140 Home Office: Calendar of Prisoners; Reference: HO 140/82, 1885-
Merionethshire, Middlesex (page 623)
35
Whether Buckley's self-proclaimed trade was a convenient front for his criminal
activities or not, if Hanbury Street was the place where Buckley kept lodgings at the
time, as most of the reports seem to indicate, he was indeed residing in the heart of
the cigar making business with former and subsequent addresses pointing eastwards.
The Lloyd's Weekly report of the 11th70 states Edward was "staying at a coffee-shop
at 14 Hanbury Street, Spitalfields", which could be read as implying the home address
to be somewhere else entirely. In reports from the 5th and 11th October 1885 the
"Helmsley Street'' address is being mentioned quite specifically, Buckley's abode at
one point71 even being described as "14 Helmsley-street", pointing to a possible
conflation of the house number at Hanbury-Street with the Helmsley Street address
mentioned on at least two other occasions in relation to Edward. The East London
Observer of the 17th simply records him being "of Hanbury-street".
We were in the course of our research often under the impression that Helmsley Street
was a misspelling or conflation of Dempsey Street, but Helmsley Street was (and still
is) an existing off-shoot of Mare Street, Hackney, not too far distant from Brunswick
Street (Hackney Road) where Edward's sister and her family had moved after
Frederick Clark's passing. Although the area cannot be regarded as Stepney as such,
it did border it to the point where one may understand the confusion. All this, on the
other hand, may well have stemmed from a simple reporting error as well, conflating
the address above the coffee house where Edward was arrested with his stated Mile-
End place of residence at that time. Another explanation might be that Edward played
some part in obscuring the details himself.
The other great conflation evident across the handful of London papers covering the
assault, consisted of a fairly widespread misspelling of "Dempsey Street", somewhat
comparable with the error that crept into some of the press coverage72 in relation to
the Kempton Races larceny incident in April of 1887, in which Sidney Street was
named "Sideney Street", not to mention the Islington affair of October 1884, where
Buckley was said to be "of Hackin-street73, Stepney". The same problem was
encountered when we pulled all the maps in the hope of finding an alley named
"Spaniard's Row" after we first learned of the August 1884 abdominal stabbing of
Frances Jones. Upon learning of the incident having occurred behind Guy's Hospital
"amidst hop warehouses", we of course quickly came to realise the "dark, secluded
spot" referred to was actually named Sparrick's Row, and had we taken the trouble to
pull a few more, we would have been aware of the correct location in far less time, but
that's the trial-and-error nature of the self-taught amateur historian and the path he
stumbles along on.
70
(1885) "Serious Charge of Wounding", Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper, 11 October, Ibid
71
(1885) "A Whitechapel Horror", Penny Illustrated Paper, 10 October, Ibid.
72
(1887) “Theft on the Racecourse”, Surrey Comet, 27 April
73
(1884) “A Mysterious Case”, The People, 12 October, Ibid.
36
All this just serves to illustrate further that accuracy was not necessarily the most
distinctive characteristic of most press accounts, and unless one finds corroboration
in additional, preferably independent sources, they should generally not be relied upon
for constructing a factual foundation for anything. Even the highly precarious process
of cross-connecting press reports should not only include corroborating similarities but
uncorroborated discrepancies as well.
If nothing else, we find Edward’s sudden change in abodes striking, illustrating once
again the fluidity of the residence-issue, the rather ludicrous merry-go-round of
everchanging residencies, as well as its utter uselessness as any kind of reliable vocal
point. It must also be mentioned that one should be careful not to dismiss a given
address out of hand. In an 1886 Mile End Old Town survey74 conducted by Booth's,
we learn the only cigar maker residing in Dempsey Street at that time happened to live
at No. 50, which may or may not cause one to raise one's eyebrow.
Many-an-Edward
If fixing Edward to any one address is problematic, how do we proceed from there?
He was, it appears, living where he claimed he was living, and apparently even then
versions could vary depending on who was asking. The same principle appears to
apply to the various occupations Buckley would adopt during the course of his career,
making it difficult for researchers some 135 years after the fact to track down the right
Edward at any given time; and if there's one thing we have learned over the course of
our investigations, is that in the case of Edward one can rule out nothing. After all,
74
Notebook: Poplar, Mile End Old Town. School Board Visitors, Mr Marsh (District G), Mr Thomson (District X1), Mr Foot
(District Q1), 1886, BOOTH/B/13 (page 81)
37
even if there's some truth to just half of the given abodes, Edward sure got around,
especially for a member of a small Cockney-Irish clan hovering generations-long
between Mile-End and St. George in the East from the late 1840s onward.
And then there were still the various other Edwards to contend with, some of whom
turned out to be quite difficult to distinguish from the subject of this article, both from a
geographical and genealogical perspective. In order to do so we had to compile all the
Edwards we encountered and divide them up into a pile of Edward absolutes, Edward
maybe's and "definitely not Edwards". During our investigations we happened upon
Edwards aplenty, in all three categories, who may or may not be plausibly compatible
to Edward the Cigar Maker, Edward the Commission Agent, the Shoemaker, the
Tailor. As it turned out, explicitly naming, locating and evaluating the tenuous ones
has proven as important as naming the proof positive-ones, if only to spare future
researchers the agony of redundant re-discovery at some later date.
Besides the earlier mentioned “Edward the mason” appearing as resident of Upper
Chapman Street in the 1881 census, this grand parade of Edwards reveals, among
others, an Edward Buckley the labourer, born 1850, popping up on several Raine
Street Workhouse and infirmary records in September of 1893, such as the ones
below75. He flashes across the historical record (and disappears just as quickly), the
discharge records on one occasion describing him as a labourer from Barnet, and on
another as "Romford labourer".
And then there's Edward the Travelling Lunatic, of whom some Bow Street workhouse
infirmary records from December 1898 make mention76 when they record an Edward
Buckley (64), "traveller of Victoria Embankment" being brought in by the police at the
beginning of December, and who by means of some divine elixir experienced a
remarkable rejuvenation when he reappeared in another 1898 Bow Road Infirmary
record (9th December77) as a 37-year-old Edward Buckley, also giving Victoria
Embankment as his previous address, this one suffering from "(illegible) insanity".
75
Raine Street workhouse admission and discharge registers, February 1893-January 1894
76
Bow Street workhouse infirmary creed registers, 1889-1898 (from page 114, surnames beginning in H). Infirmary creed
registers, 1898-June 1909.
77
Ibid.
38
After all these tribulations the mysterious lunatic seemingly vanishes from all records,
leaving us scratching our heads.
In the 1901 census78, taken in the Victoria Home, up pops this previously
undetermined Edward (Dock Labourer), quite out of nowhere, purportedly born in
"Leamon Street, London", and it was quite late in the course of our investigations that
we were able to plausibly connect him to the 1853-born Edward Buckley mentioned
earlier, as 4 Tenter Street East, Whitechapel, is located just behind Leman Street.
This Edward, incidentally, died of tuberculosis in 1906.
And there was the Edward Buckley admitted to Claybury Asylum on the 15th October
1903 (and another admission date of the 18th February 1904, at which time he was
demoted to the status of pauper), of whom we for the longest time were solidly
confident. Again: not our Edward, as it turned out.
After several attempts at poking an employee of the Redbridge Museum & Heritage
Centre for more information on this Edward as well as possible case notes
documenting what the mental condition had been, she poked us right back for further
information. In the end we provided the somewhat demanding archivist with an
approximate date of death for Edward, and she in turn providing us with a definitive
date of death79 (6th April 1909), pushing yet another Edward Buckley off the Edward
absolutes pile in a matter of seconds.
We also found Edwards appearing on many-a-prison record throughout the 1870s

which gave us pause for thought. One in particular attracted our attention. Described
as a "discharged soldier, residing in Kent Street (Borough)" in an article 80 dated the
15th January 1870, this Edward was said to have been involved in a stabbing incident
at the Duke of Wellington public house, Commercial Street, Spitalfields:
78
Census Returns of England and Wales, 1901. Kew, Surrey, England, Class: RG13; Piece: 307; Folio: 110; Page: 4
79
Waltham Forest Council, Walthamstow, England; Walthamstow, England; Waltham Forest Burial Registers
80
(1870), “Stabbing in a Commercial Street Tavern”, London Daily Chronicle, 15 January
39
“Stabbing in a Commercial Street Tavern Yesterday, at the Worship-street
Police-court, John McDonnell, described as a fish porter, was charged with
having feloniously stabbed Edward Buckley with a knife. It appeared from
the evidence that between twelve and one o’clock that morning, the
prosecutor, who is a discharged soldier, residing in Kent-street, Borough,
was in Spitalfields in company with a friend, and they went into the Duke of
Wellington public house, in Commercial-street. The prisoner was there
considerably the worse for drink. Soon after prosecutor and his friend had
entered a disturbance commenced, and he was struck by the prisoner. He
returned the blow, and a fight ensued. They were then put out, and in the
street the fight was continued. Suddenly the prisoner was seen to take a
white-handled knife out of his pocket, open one of the blades, and then
saying “I’ll settle with him now,” rushed at the prosecutor. The latter, seeing
his intention, turned to run away. The prisoner made a “job” at him with the
knife. Prosecutor put up his arm to avoid the blow, and the knife cut deep
into the flesh, through two coats and a shirt.”
The wound was dressed and the prisoner committed for trial. From the fights, knives
and location described in the article, you will not blame us for getting a distinct Fashion
Street stabbing vibe as this Edward Buckley (no age provided), or at least his arm,
was on the receiving end of "a cut deep into the flesh, through two coats and a shirt"
inflicted on him by the knife-wielding fish porter near the Duke of Wellington's.
Perhaps it was this 1870 press report that made us look a bit more intently at a
Wandsworth-Edward who popped up here and there in several prison records from
the 1870s, and the supposed "distinctive marks" he was recorded as having in the
committal and release-records of the said prison, but no scars were identified that
might have connected him to this 1870 incident.
Of course the article does not mention which arm Buckley put up, and it must be said
that it doesn't quite agree with a May 1871 record81 for a 15-year-old Edward Buckley
(plasterer), mentioning no specific features, except for the brown hair and fresh
complexion, and confirming the grey eye colour mentioned in a later record 82 (1911)
for our Edward Buckley.
81
The National Archives; Kew, London, England; PCOM 2: Metropolitan Police: Criminal Record Office: Habitual Criminals
Registers and Miscellaneous Papers (page 77)
82
The National Archives; Kew, London, England; MEPO 6: Metropolitan Police: Criminal Record Office: Habitual Criminals
Registers and Miscellaneous Papers; Reference: MEPO 6/22 (page 53)
40
We cannot of course be quick to conclude anything with regards to the height ascribed
to the prisoner in this instance, as he was only 15 at the time.
Fast forward to 1873. One Edward Buckley, born 1856 in Clapham, Surrey, was
deemed "implacable" on a naval record83, listing the following physical descriptions:
"5 ft 3, Brown hair, hazel eyes, fair complexion, no scars, wounds or marks
mentioned.”
A March 1874 Wandsworth Prison record84 mentions an anchor-shaped tattoo on the

left arm. In this case the Ship's Cook-Buckley was sentenced to 14 days imprisonment
for assaulting a Police Constable.
Description: 5’4”, eyes brown, hair and eyes dark brown, complexion fresh. And under
distinctive features we read “Anchor left arm, Bracelet both wrists (?)”
You'll notice both heights average out at 5’ 3.5”, not too far off from the height given in
the 1911 prison description referenced below who is confirmed to be our cigar maker
Edward Buckley, although in stark contrast with the anchor-shaped tattoo observed at
Wandsworth, this records his identifying features as "nil", and his eye colour as grey
which also differs significantly.
So, either tattoos magically disappear over the years, or the people tasked with
inspecting him at arrival wouldn't touch this particular prisoner with a ten-foot pole. The
third possibility, which is the one we would put forward for the time being, is that the
Wandsworth sailor Edward Buckley is unlikely to be our Edward Buckley.
Two months after the March 1874 incarceration, the Magnet reported85 on an Edward
Buckley charged for being a look-out for his pick pocketing fellow-thief "Williams" at
the Chelsea Embankment.
83
The National Archives of the UK; Kew, Surrey, England; Royal Navy Registers of Seamen's Services; Class: ADM 188; Piece:
38 (page 16)
84
The National Archives; Kew, London, England; PCOM 2: Metropolitan Police: Criminal Record Office: Habitual Criminals
Registers and Miscellaneous Papers (page 71)
85
(1874) “Charge of Attempting to Pick Pockets”, Magnet, 25 May
41
“Williams attempted to pick pockets in the crowd, and the other prisoner
"covered" him.”
A "technique" we cannot help but associate with Edward's standard MO, although
perhaps we shouldn't read too much into it, as the technique was likely standard issue
for every self-respecting larcenist in late Victorian London.
On a more general note, in order for us to acquire some kind of basic grip on factual
circumstances, we found we couldn't rely solely on prison records, and so we were
not able to entirely avoid turning to press reports, aligning them as well as one is able
to other press articles, preferably aided by separately obtained documentation. All this
had the knock off-effect where some of our previously held ideas fell off the cliff of
supposition, others became clearer, but most were frustratingly left hanging in the air,
stored safely but impatiently in the maybe-drawer, in the hopes that some future
research endeavour will clear up the confusion.
At the Kempton Park Races
After a period of relative quiet, we find Edward - our Edward - in February of 1887 once
again involved in his usual activities, this time in the very street he had provided at the
trial two months later. On the 5th February 1887 the East London Observer reports86:
“Edward Buckley, 33, who has frequently been charged at this Court, was
now charged with being drunk, refusing to quit the "Three Compasses"
public house, Sidney-street, Mile End, wilfully breaking a glass screen, and
assaulting Thomas Saunders, the proprietor.- Prosecutor stated that on
Monday evening Buckley entered the house the worse for drink. Witness
refused to serve him, and he refused to go. Buckley then threw two quart
pewter pots at him. One of them struck him on the shoulder, and the other
one broke a glass screen.' Mr. Saunders considered prisoner's conduct very
bad, and sentenced him to seven days hard labour.”
The case was apparently brought before the Thames police court87 on the 1st
February.
86
(1887) "A Rough Customer", East London Observer, 5 February
87
42
Shortly after his 7-day incarceration, on the 15th February88, Edward was at it again,
this time charged with being drunk and disorderly and using obscene language. He
was fined the usual or five days (maximum) incarceration.
As the “peculiar” incident in Islington appears to illustrate, it would seem Edward felt
comfortable enough in and around crowds to risk arrest or fall victim to mob justice,
both of which prospects did not seem to especially deter him, as we find him
ensconced amidst market places, horse races, and other such mass gatherings over
the years, seemingly prowling around for valuables, wearing non-conspicuous or even
respectable looking clothing, more often than not in the company of others. Testament
not so much to an adventurous daring on the part of this unenjoyable thug, but rather
to a reckless fearlessness and apparent indifference to the prospect of yet another
incarceration. For all its terrible implications, from a researcher's perspective it has
one distinct advantage: it provides us with records to access when we attempt a rough
reconstruction of Buckley's movements in and outside the confounds of the East End.
The Uxbridge & W. Drayton Gazette of Saturday 23rd April 1887 reports89:
“Edward Buckley, of 106, Sidney-street, Mile End, cigar maker, was charged
with having stolen from the person of Alfred Benn, master butcher, of 287,
camberwell road, Camberwell, a purse containing 60 pounds 10 shillings
and crossed cheque for 6 pounds 13 shilling, 9d, in the small ring at
Kempton park racecourse, on Easter Monday. Mr. Keith Frith, barrister,
appeared for the defense. Prosecutor said that about half-past two in the
88
Ibid
89
(1887), "Theft at Kempton Park Races", Uxbridge & W. Drayton Gazette, 23 April
43
afternoon, while the racing was in progress, put his left hand in his
(witness’s) trousers pocket. He tried to seize the hand, but missed it. He,
however, seized prisoner’s right hand, and then put his arm round the
prisoner’s neck. In the struggle they both fell to the ground, and witness,
who was uppermost, was then violently assaulted by the prisoner’s
comrades. He continued to hold the prisoner till a police-sergeant came up,
when the officer took the man from him. Witness accompanied the sergeant
to the police-station, and there charged the prisoner with the robbery. As
the prisoner’s hand was withdrawn from his pocket he just caught sight of
his purse, which contained at the time three packets of gold containing 20
each, a half-sovereign, and a cheque for 6l. 13s. 9d. He did not see what
became of it.”
Although the “comrades” present appear to have escaped arrest, Edward was taken
to the station by Police Sergeant Shaddock who formally booked him. As pointed out,
the often far removed locations of the perpetrator, the respectable appearance, as well
as the presence of "comrades" coming to his assistance when the tables turned on
him, are very much reminiscent of the October 1884 incident occurring at Market
Street, Islington, but where the victim on that occasion had done a 360̊ turnaround
resulting in a laughing dismissal of charges, he would not be so fortunate in the
aftermath of the Kempton Park Races larceny incident of April 1887. Here the victim
was not intimidated into dropping charges, but went ahead with his charge against the
robbers undisturbed, resulting in Edward's last confirmed conviction prior to 1888.
We won’t bother the reader with a complete transcript of the corresponding Old Bailey
trial90 (erroneously dated 24rd April 1887), but suffice it to say it provides us with
another glimpse into Buckley’s apparent "methodology", if there was one. The most
telling aspect of the case as far as we're concerned, and one that plausibly ties him to
the Fashion Street Edward, is mention of his left hand, which is brought up by
Shaddock in an apparent response to a defence attempt at deflecting the prisoners
guilt on Edward's behalf:
“I have seen the prisoner's left hand, I do not think there is much the matter
with it—he has not told me that it is partially crippled, nor did I hear it at the
police court.”
It seems to be a clear reference to the Fashion Street stabbing and the spurting
arteries of the left hand suffered by Edward all those years back.
Looking ahead, physical impediments purportedly suffered by Edward turned out to

be a recurring theme. And not just by his legal representative. But this time the left-
90
BUCKLEY (33) (t18870425-590)
44
hand issue does not appear to have benefited the prisoner as the magistrate
sentenced Edward to a nine-month lock-up in Pentonville Prison.
The document that has proven to be most useful for us in separating the wheat from
the chaff is this 1909 record91 which lists the various court trial cases he was involved
in, although – strangely - the Kempton Races fiasco is absent from it:
In the 1887 Calendar of Prisoners92 however, both his convictions for the 1885
wounding of Frances Jones and the Kempton Park Race larceny affair are mentioned,
proving beyond a shadow of a doubt the 33-year-old thief-cigar maker Edward in 1887
is in fact the very same individual as Edward the knife-wielding brute from 1885.
In a post-1895 stage of our investigation these two documents combined would also
serve to establish that the later criminal lunatic and habitual drunkard-Buckley ("tailor")
was exactly who we suspected he was, even though we had previously allowed
ourselves to be thrown off by the many varying ages and occupations. As our research
progressed, we slowly but surely managed to come up with a comparatively reliable
core of established Edwards in order to confidently reconstruct significant parts of the
Buckley story.
Although the documentation appears to suggest that Buckley was lodging at several
addresses in the same general area until his incarceration in Pentonville Prison in April
of '87, it's hard to conclude with certainty where exactly Edward was staying at any
given time. In the span of no more than five years Edward provided the authorities with
91
The National Archives; Kew, London, England; HO 140 Home Office: Calendar of Prisoners; Reference: HO 140/274 (page
883)
92
The National Archives; Kew, London, England; HO 140 Home Office: Calendar of Prisoners; Reference: HO 140/98 (page 125)
45
a multitude of residencies, apparently shedding abodes like a snake does its skin: from
Dempsey Street to Helmsley Street to Fenton Street to Hanbury Street to Portland
Street, Sidney Street, and back again to Dempsey Street, with incidental excursions
outside the East End. In short: establishing where Edward is supposed to have resided
remained irritatingly enigmatic. At least for a while.
Although Edward received his 9-month sentence in April 1887 (placing the
approximate time of his release - on paper at least - somewhere in the first two months
of 1888), we must keep firmly in mind early releases were not particularly uncommon,
especially in the case of extended incarcerations. In addition: revoked licences were
quite common as well, prompting us to look a bit more intently at one particular Edward
roaming free as early as late 1887. Bad luck has it that any surviving records of
prisoner releases from Pentonville Prison from 1887 and/or 1888 are fragmented at
best, reinforcing our dependence on those bloody press reports. To make matters
worse, Edward does not appear to have checked into any workhouse (we used wide
parameters) and if he checked into some lodging house immediately after his release,
it’s unlikely these records will have survived anyway. But wherever Edward happened
to have resided at any given time, the documentation is resolute on one point: his
former violent lunacy continued unabated, gradually spiralling down into a succession
of rather vicious assaults.
Who certainly did check into a workhouse was Frances Jones. On the 24 th February
188893 to be exact, only to be discharged again on the following day94, presumably to
the "medical officer to the infirmary". The age is a bit off (born 1864), but we have not
been able to find another Frances Jones with whom we might have allowed ourselves
to be confused.
Thomas the Mile-End Hellraiser & The Watney Street Edward
On the 15th October '87 one Edward Buckley was caught trying to make away with a
plane (the carpenter's tool, not the flying machine) in Watney Street, St. George in the
East. We were able to find exactly two snippets reporting on the theft (which is not
93
Reference Number: HABG/208/015 (page 113)
94
Ibid. (page 116)
46
entirely surprising in cases of such minor importance), the first95 having been printed
in the London Evening Standard on the 17th October 1887:
“Edward Buckley was charged with stealing a plane, value 8s. 6d., the
property of Henry Dorton, a pawnbroker, of Watney-street, St. George's.--
Between nine and ten o'clock on Saturday night a person named Cecil, who
has a stall in Watney-street, saw the Prisoner with a plane in his hand, and
he spoke to the manager, who missed a plane from a stall outside the shop.-
- The Prisoner was detained and given into custody.-- Mr. Saunders
sentenced the Prisoner to 14 days imprisonment with hard labour.”
Although no age is provided for the sneak thief, the Thames magistrate police record96
of the 17th October 1887 has him as a 38-year-old Edmund Buckley charged with
“stealing a carpenter plane” and subsequently sentenced to fourteen days of hard
labour. Provided the sentence was immediately followed by a lock-up, we would have
him out and about again by the end of October 1887 at the latest, after which we
initially lost track of this Edward entirely in the vicinity until around April of 1889.
The second press report97 making mention of the theft actually consists of a casual,
one sentence mention of the case, published in the Pall Mall Gazette on the 18th
October 1887. Clearly written as a denunciation of the (to the journalist's mind)
magistrate's arbitrary judicial screw-ups, the tone of the piece is immediately set
against the presiding magistrate.
"This dreadful offence was too much for Mr. Saunders, and so Costin was committed
for trial." The plane-stealing Edward Buckley was the second case mentioned:
"Edward Buckley was...charged with having stolen a plane from a stall outside a shop",
to which the author adds: "a far more grievous offence than reckless injury to life and
limb".
95
96
97
(1887) "Occasional Notes", Pall Mall Gazette, 18 October
47
Seemingly random snippets of a minor theft case, contrasting quite heavily with the
hell-raising, much less docile chest puncher Edward Buckley, but even though these
incidents are mere trifles in light of Edward's former and subsequent monstrosities, to
our mind this "mere trifle" for the longest time proved a knot we had the greatest
difficulty in untying. As it later turned out, that knot did not actually require much untying
anyway, but that's putting the cart before the horse.
There are, besides the uncertainty of Edward's release date from Pentonville, several
more points of contention arguing against the possibility of the Watney Street thief
being our Edward having had his sentence cut short. For instance, the age given for
this Edward Buckley ("Edmund", 38, on the Thames court record) in 1887 conforms
fairly precisely with the age given98 for yet another Edward Buckley (39) out, about
and up to no good, making away with some more carpenter's tools at an unfinished
building in Burrard-road, Custom House, in the first week of April 1889. Yet another
Edward, in other words, to grudgingly file up in our ever-expanding maybe-drawer.
Because – again - to our knowledge no documentation in regards to Edward's exact

release date from Pentonville Prison appears to have survived, we could neither
include nor discard the plane-stealing Edward from our list. The Edward Buckley listed
on the 1881 census99 as lodger at 8 Upper Chapman Street (27, occupation "mason",
born St. George in the East) is a prime candidate for this other Edward and could very
well account for the coincidence that so unwelcomely intrudes upon our story.
Despite of the apparent differences to everything we now know about Edward, we held
off on discounting him because of the close proximity of Watney Street to the previous
known addresses of our Edward Buckley suggesting something more than mere
coincidence, but the Burrard Road incident of the first week of April 1889 appears to
interfere, timewise, with another Edward raising hell in the dock at roughly the same
approximate time and on whom we will expand a little further along.
There was also the case of a drunken Thomas Buckley (34) demanding admittance
into the Mile-End Old Town Workhouse (casuals) in early May of 1888, securing for
himself seven days of hard labour.
On the 5th May 1888 the London Evening Standard reported on the incident100 which,
according to the press report, occurred the previous evening around seven o' clock:
98
(1889) untitled report, West Ham and South Essex Mail, 6 April
99
1341099 (page 33)
100
(1888) Untitled report, London Evening Standard, 5 May
48
“Thomas Buckley, aged 34, was charged with assaulting George Franklin,
Superintendent of casuals in Mile-end Workhouse, and the night porter in
the same establishment. - About seven o'clock last evening the Prisoner
applied to the Superintendent for admission into the casual ward, but owing
to his being drunk he refused to admit him, and requested him to go away.
He then said he would be locked up, and struck the night porter a violent
blow in his chest with his fist, and on the Superintendent going to his
assistance he struck him several times he struck him several times. - Mr
Lushington said it was quite clear the superintendent was quite right in not
admitting the Prisoner when he attacked the porter and superintendent.- He
sentenced him to seven days' hard labour.”
The Thomas Buckley incident, or at least the description of him given by the newsman
reporting on it, does appear, apart from the age similarity, to preserve a distinct
semblance to the Edward we have learned to know and loathe throughout the course
of our investigations, prompting us to speculate this Thomas was actually Edward.
But, as was so often the case, our initial suspicions proved wrong. As it turned out, we
were about to happen upon something that would completely overshadow our fruitless
wrestling matches with the Watney Street Edward Buckley and the Workhouse
Casuals hellraiser Thomas.
Edward Butler
On the 4th May 1888, just one day prior in other words, one Edward "Butler" (33) was
brought before the magistrate101 on the charge of assault, receiving 40 shillings or one
month gaol in sentence.
Nothing to really get excited about, you would think at first glance: just another Edward
getting himself in trouble with the law, and indeed it took us some minutes to realise
that the name of the complainant/informant was not a constable named Thomas
Jones, as a cursory glance had initially led us to believe, but a complainant named
Frances Jones, exciting our interest almost to the point of euphoria.
The blue (as opposed to red) marker crossed through the fine might indicate that it
was paid, versus - in red - the fine was not paid, automatically resulting in the prisoner
being committed. We now, in all likelihood, had yet another Edward Buckley assault
on Frances Jones to contend with, and that within a timeframe quite near to the
101
49
Whitechapel murders. The clincher came when the only newspaper reporting on the
assault, although preserving the “Butler” name, did provide some context not only to
the assault itself, but also the relationship of prisoner to complainant.
On the 4th May 1888, the Evening News reported102:
“SERVE HIM RIGHT Edward Butler, 33, of 12, Portland-street, was

charged, at the Thames Court, with assaulting an unfortunate named
Frances Jones.- Prosecutrix stated about 10.30 on the previous evening
she met with the prisoner, with whom she had previously cohabited, and he
took her into a public-house and treated her to a glass of stout. While there,
without saying a word, prisoner struck her a blow in the mouth, making it
bleed. She ran out, when the prisoner followed and again struck her in the
presence of a constable. The latter then arrested Butler. Witness did not
steal 2 s. from prisoner's pocket.- Constable 115 H said he saw Butler deal
prosecutrix a violent blow, and arrested him. He said, "I have done time for
her before, and I'll do it again."- Prisoner said prosecutrix robbed him of 2s.
and he smacked her face.- Mr. Lushington said even if prosecutrix did rob
the prisoner that was no reason why he should assault prosecutrix in the
manner he had done. He would be fined 40s., or one months' hard labour.”
The astute reader will have raised one eyebrow by now - possibly both – as the 4th
May 1888 press report titled “Serve him right” is eerily reminiscent of the September
1885 report mentioned earlier, covering a similar event titled “It almost served her
right”, but differing in one very distinct way: the acting magistrate would not have any
of the excuses the defence threw at him, and proceeded to sentence the perpetrator,
albeit to a ridiculously mild one month stay in the gaol, or 40 shillings upfront.
Although we do have (yet) another place of residence given for the brute, unfortunately
the exact location of the public-house where the assault took place remains unreported
upon in both the Thames record and the press report. Perhaps the only way we may
get an approximate idea might be an in-depth trawl through newspaper archives via
the constable’s collar number (115 H), the first rough attempts at which has to date
not revealed where exactly this constable’s beat took him.
One could, quite naturally, counter-argue two things in regards to the situation we now
found ourselves confronted with: this Frances Jones is an altogether different Frances
Jones, and the Edward Butler mentioned an altogether different one from the cigar
maker Edward Buckley, but the casual mention of previous cohabitation, diluted with
the brute’s purported words (“I have done time for her before, and I’ll do it again”), puts
the preponderance of evidence, to our satisfaction at least, firmly on Butler in fact
being Buckley and Frances Jones, by extension, being our Frances Jones.
102
(1888) "Serve him right", Evening News, 4 May
50
Additionally we found Portland Street (far right) in the same general area around
Commercial Road, not too far removed from Dempsey Street (far upper left), indicating
Edward didn’t stray far from his given abodes.
There was still, however, the unwelcome guest raising hell at the Mile-End workhouse
casuals apparently taking place on the very next day, which pretty much put the kibosh
on the idea of him, Thomas, being compatible with Frances Jones’ assailant. Unless
of course one would venture to entertain the possibility of Edward escaping as he was
arrested, the constable hurrying after him as the quick-footed prisoner hastened
towards the Mile-End workhouse in time to assault the superintendent during his
escape, and then getting apprehended – separately and simultaneously – and
subsequently convicted for both incidents (one day apart).
Clearly too convoluted a reconciliation to account for the overlap. Besides, one might
reasonably assume Lushington, being the acting magistrate in both consecutive
cases, would have remembered Edward from the day prior, if indeed it was him. In
fact, looking more intently into the written entry by the Police court’s clerk on the 5 th
May103, the surname of the Mile-End casuals hell-raiser “Thomas Buckley” from the
London Evening Standard snippet appears to be one Thomas “Beeckley”, forcing us
to archive the hellraiser into the definitely not-pile, at least until such time further
research says otherwise.
One may have noticed the excuse provided by "Butler" to legitimise his assault, namely
the prosecutrix purportedly robbing the prisoner of 2 shillings: an almost literal
reproduction of the excuse provided by him on at least two previous occasions,
although accounts (and amounts) vary. What comes to mind is the 5 th September 1885
press report104 which has "Edward Buckley, of 14, Hanbury Street, Whitechapel"
stating for his defence: "Buckley gave her £ 3 8s to go and take a room (...). The
clothes she was wearing she bought with the money".
The journalist reporting on the assault had the presiding magistrate proclaim: "the
prosecutrix had robbed the prisoner of his money, but he (Buckley) must not take the
law into his own hands." You will remember a similar justification was given when
Buckley was picked up at 14 Hanbury Street after the attempted murder of October
that same year, when Buckley was reported as saying: "It is only a day or two since I
gave her £2".
Although the 4th May report gives some indication of Buckley's mental state, we are
for obvious reasons curious to learn if and how his mental decline progressed in the
103
104
(1885) "It almost served her right", East London Observer, 5 September Ibid.
51
months following his release from Pentonville Prison, but speculation should be
stopped in its tracks before it derails into outright fantasy. After all, there's a fine line
between educated guesses based on qualitative sources and filling up inevitable holes
in the timeline with source-starved suppositions.
The next time Edward pops up after the May ‘88 assault is immortalised in a Thames
police court record105 from the 30th July, mentioning him being brought before the
Magistrate for the usual (D&D/Obscene language), this time recording an age (33)
closer to our Edward's real one (34 or 35), and possibly alongside one Ellen Baker
(42) who, for her part, was charged with assault under the same reference number.
And then there's Edward (33) again106 on the 18th August 1888, brought in on the same
charge as well as the now obligatory "obscene language" by Constable 142 H.
After this last court appearance and subsequent five-day lock-up (if the fine wasn't
paid) Edward drops off the radar for the next eight months, which is actually rather
curious given the fact he seldom went two months without a conviction, making the
late August '88 to early April '89 hiatus a fairly atypical affair.
If the three documented arrests (4th May, 30th July and 18th August 1888) are anything
to go by, the number of convictions listed for Buckley in 1909107 (more than 45) is
probably still understating things. If and how this came to nothing more than just
incidental fines and short stays in the goal for Edward, remains to be seen, but it does
illustrate that he apparently wasn't burdened by any considerations of avoiding jail
time. In fact, according to the only press report we have of the May 1888 assault on
Frances Jones, he explicitly states as much.
105
London Metropolitan Archives, Thames Magistrates Court, PS/TH/A/01/011 Ibid.
106
107
883) Ibid.
52
Again: because the single solitary snippet, and subsequent Thames Magistrate
records, say nothing whatsoever about the exact locations where these incidents took
place, and unless we are to find any additional press reports reporting on such details,
tracing the beats of the arresting constables involved might be the only way to
reasonably narrow down the search area. But alas we are two men, and the demands
on our time are formidable, so we call upon all researchers who share our curiosity to
assist in the search for possible surviving press reports that may shed some light on
the exact location(s) Buckley was picked up at.
Mid-Autumn Profiling
In the anxious lull between Mitre Square and Miller's Court, meanwhile, ripper mania
reached fever pitch. As we know the police left no stone unturned as they threw a
dragnet over the numerous lodging houses in Spitalfields in search of the murderer.
And as we also know, their searches proved fruitless. Letters were sent to the
newspapers and authorities, habitual drunks turned themselves in solemnly declaring
to be the one and only Jack of ripper fame, semi-suspects were arrested and let go,
people asking odd questions in pubs were held up or mobbed, and within no time the
name "Jack the Ripper" took hold in the public consciousness, where it pretty much
remained anchored as a forbidding spectre of dread for more than a century to come.
Here also the first clumsy attempts at profiling were made, both from a heavy-breathing
(and heavily scrutinised) Metropolitan and City police as well as by members of the
general public, eager to make sense out of the incomprehensible. Images like the
Gentleman Doctor, the Sinister Jew, the Merchant Seaman and the Quack Cowboy
were emerging in the minds of a thoroughly confused populus, aided by some
newspapers determined to fill up their pages with as much explicit dread as they were
able to aggregate.
One such attempt was made in the form of an anonymous letter purportedly sent to
the Pall Mall Gazette and subsequently published on the 8th October 1888. Although
the letter titled "The Whitechapel Murder Mystery" (signed "Ex-Convict")108 was
undoubtedly rewritten before it went to print (if it was written by this ex-convict at all
and not, say, by some enthusiastic reporter eager to fill the pages under the guise of
an industrious letter writer), the gist of its contents suggests authenticity, or at least
reveals some of the thinking going on at the time as to the sort of person that may
have pulled off the Whitechapel murders. For that reason alone we feel the letter merits
a full reproduction within the context of this article:
To the editor of the Pall-Mall Gazette Sir,-- I have had several years
intercourse with the most desperate of London criminals, and you may,
108
(1888) "The Whitechapel Murder Mystery", Pall Mall Gazette, 8 October
53
possibly, on that account consent to add the following to the many
suggested theories put forward in your admirable paper to explain the
motive of, and thereby start a clue to, the Whitechapel murders. It appears
to me that the murderer must have the three following qualifications for the
successful perpetration of his crimes:- (1) Cause for deadly vengeance
against the unfortunates of the streets; (2) An intimate knowledge of
Whitechapel, and equal familiarity with the snail-like alacrity of the London
police; with (3) some experience of a dissecting-room. I would suggest to
Sir Charles Warren that he should obtain from Sir Edmund Du Cane the
names of such convicts as have been liberated, say, during the last six
months, who have been employed as infirmary orderlies in the respective
prisons from whence discharged. Also the additional information, where
such ex-prisoners hailed from before sentence, and whether prostitutes
were associated with the police in their original detection or conviction. I
believe the murderer to be a man who has suffered a long term of penal
servitude for some crime that was brought home to him through the betrayal
of one of those casual unfortunates who "pal in" with burglars and other
such criminals while spending the "swag" of a successful "bust". I have
worked and conversed with hundreds of such men in more than one convict
prison, and I cannot help remembering the ferocity with which they
invariably spoke of "the mole who put them away," and how they would "do"
for her whenever they were "chucked up." Desperate as these men are
when outside of prison, many of them- especially the "old fakes"- are models
of good behaviour while undergoing penal servitude, as they seek thereby
to qualify for the most coveted of prison "billets"- infirmary orderly. In this
position they acquire a good deal of knowledge about the use of dissecting
knives, &c., as they are employed to clean up the place where the prison
doctors carry out their postmortem examinations of dead convicts.
My theory, therefore, such as it is, is this: - (1) The murderer is of the "old
fake" criminal type. (2) He belongs to or is very familiar with Whitechapel.
(3) He has served a long term, perhaps many terms, of imprisonment, some
or all of which punishment he attributes to the class to which the murdered
women belong. (4) His previous criminal career makes him familiar with the
beat system of the London police. (5) He has been an infirmary orderly in
some convict prison, and he has recently terminated his last sentence.”
Save for the last point - which has yet to be determined - the parallels to an Edward
Buckley-type culprit need not be understated. When coupled with some of Edmund
Reid's later guesses on the nature of the Whitechapel murderer, we perhaps acquire
some additional insight. "My opinion", Reid told109 Lloyd's Weekly News on the 4th
February 1912, "is that the perpetrator of the crimes was a man who was in the habit
109
(1912) "'HUNTED "JACK THE RIPPER: Ex-Detective-Inspr Reid's New Theory", Lloyd's Weekly News, 4 February
54
of using a certain public-house, and of remaining there until closing time. Leaving with
the rest of the customers, with what soldiers call 'a touch of delirium triangle,' he would
leave with one of the women. "My belief is that he would in some dark corner attack
her with the knife and cut her up. Having satisfied his maniacal blood-lust he would go
away home, and the next day know nothing about it. One thing is to my mind quite
certain, and that is that he lived in the district."
Thus the rough outlines of the Unknown Local Man were taking shape in the minds of
some contemporary observers, but it must again be pointed out that the letter is
significant only insofar as it casts an interesting contemporary light on one of the views
expressed on the murderer's possible characteristics, irrespective of the question of
whether the letter was crafted by an actual ex-convict or an ambitious Pall Mall Gazette
reporter posing as one. Whether one agrees with the assessments postulated is of
course a different question entirely.
It must now be pointed out that an absent Edward from the Thames police court
records from the 18th August onward, although enigmatic, by itself means nothing.
Even the best of researchers, considering the best of suspects, sometimes fall into the
trap of filling up inevitable gaps in the historical record, such as the one we have here
for Edward Buckley, and if one was to one day read "ripper" into Edward, it would be
tempting to interpret his disappearance during these eight months as him possibly
perpetrating the Whitechapel murders. But of course not being able to place someone
in a certain area at a certain time is no evidentiary basis for anything, making any
conclusions drawn about a person’s absence not only self-delusional but outright
deceptive. Sometimes a gap is just a gap, and other factors have to be taken into
account in order to reconstruct a basis for suspect plausibility. It must here also be
pointed out that although we have pointed to Edward’s absence from the Thames
police court records after the 18th August, this only applies to entries under his own
name. But then he didn't always go by his own name.
"Henry Jones"
The first reported case following Edward’s unaccounted for absence was recorded 110
by the Alliance News on the 27th April 1889. This particular press report titled “Assaults
by a Lame Man” is not only the first documented case featuring Edward in trouble with
the authorities since the 18th August 1888 D&D court case, it’s also the first making
mention of him using an alias:
“At Worship street, London, Henry Jones, shoemaker, of Dempsey-street,

Stepney, and Thomas Buckley, dealer, of Poll-street, Stepney, said to be
brothers, were charged with assaulting police-constables Franklin, Rayson,
110
(1889) “Assaults by a Lame Man”, Alliance News, 27 April
55
and Dunkley. The prisoner, "Jones", walked into the dock with a stick, one
foot being supported by a sling bandage. The evidence of the constables
showed that on the previous night, in Whitechapel-road, "Jones" and others
were drunk, and had a crowd around them. The traffic in the wide road was
stopped, and on the constable trying to get "Jones" as the chief offender,
away he made a running kick at him, and caught him on the knee. Being
then taken into custody, he was violent, fought like a madman, and kicked
about in every direction. The assistance of other constables was required,
and "Jones" had, it was said, to be carried to the station. It was admitted by
the police that the prisoner had his foot bandaged, but they said he could
stand on it, and that he kicked with the one boot he was wearing. He kicked
Rayson and Dunkley, and Buckley tried to drag him away from custody,
saying, "Let my brother go." Mr. Bushby discharged Buckley, and sent the
other prisoner to gaol for three months.”
As mentioned, the hell-raising "Henry Jones", shoemaker, is being described as "of

Dempsey-Street" and as brother to Thomas Buckley (of "Poll-Street, Stepney"). You
may also observe "Jones" has been consistently put in quotes. Thomas' agitated pleas
for his brother's release appear to be consistent with earlier incidents hinting at the
brotherly loyalty we have seen examples of in earlier reports. Apart from the obvious
fact Edward's later records list the (admittedly generic) "Jones" as one of many
recorded aliases, this "Jones" and Thomas Buckley are said to be brothers. Therefore,
the assumption that "Jones" is actually Edward is not a wild supposition by any stretch
of the imagination. In fact, we may actually be able to "unstretch" it altogether when
we consider the following Illustrated Police News article, also dated the 27th April 1889
(and mirroring the Alliance News one with near-exactitude) superfluously adding to
our existing suspicions.
“At Worship street, London, Henry Jones, shoemaker, of Dempsey-street,

Stepney, and Thomas Buckley, dealer, of Poll-street, Stepney, said to be
brothers, Jones being rightly named Buckley (bolded by us), were
charged with assaulting police-constables Franklin, Rayson, and Dunkley.”
Would one have just thrown a cursory glance upon this parenthetical report from a
rival newspaper, one might easily have overlooked it, but there it was.
Another aspect we cannot, in good conscience, ignore is the curious sling bandaged
foot which, according to the police, didn't appear to hinder Buckley engaging in running
kicks although the defence counterargued:
“The defence was that "Jones", from his lame condition, could not have
committed the assaults charged, but there were no witnesses for the
defence. It was said, however, that he was suffering from a sprained ankle,
and under hospital treatment.”
56
We should, for obvious reasons, not swerve too far into the realm of idle speculation,
making too much of the bandaged (but not actually crippled) foot, but it may be of
some interest to note that "it was said" the chief offender "was suffering from a
sprained ankle", reminiscent of the 25th April 1887 larceny trial on which occasion the
subject of Buckley's left hand was brought up by the arresting Police Sergeant
Shaddock, indicating Edward employed the same old lame excuse (no pun intended)
in an attempt to circumvent a conviction.
If Henry Jones is in fact Edward, and it certainly looks that way, we will not attempt a
diagnosis of the underlying mental condition that made him feign yet another physical
impediment as he was, according to the arresting constable, fighting "like a madman,
kicking about in every direction", but it appears clear that his violent behaviour towards
the authorities does not seem to have been subject to much improvement in the
intermediate period between his release from the last recorded incident (18 th August
1888) and the first time we pick up his trail again (April 1889).
Here we feel it is important to reiterate the incident involving the 39-year-old Edward
Buckley of "The Chambers, High-Street, Poplar" who was reported111 by the West
Ham and South Essex Mail of the 6th April 1889 to have been caught stealing some
carpenter tools, conforming age-wise to the 38-year-old "Edmund" Buckley mentioned
on the Court record of October ‘87 and affiliated press reports. So, this report (of April
1889) doesn’t sit well with the timing ascribed to the April 1889 "Henry Jones" affair,
causing us to look at the 1887 Watney Street Edward Buckley even more suspiciously.
So, as the Alliance article appears to refer to an as of yet unretrieved London Daily
Chronicle article dated 14th April 1889, the Buckley Brothers incident (jokingly
rechristened by us into "Let my brother go" incident) likely occurred sometime early
April 1889, which in turn begs us to choose from one of two possibilities: either the
14th April date of the original Daily Chronicle article was grossly incorrect, or the
carpenter tool-stealing Edward of April 1889 is not our Edward. We incline towards the
latter.
Assuming this Edward is our Edward (which to our mind is a safe assumption to make)
this appears to be the closest event following the autumn of terror which mentions
Edward and Thomas together. It also served to firm up our suspicions that the Poll
Street address was not actually Pell Street, St. George's, Instead, what we had initially
thought was the "clincher" (a lone press report112 dated July 1885 making mention of
an assault on an older woman named Mary Buckley on the doorstep of 18 Pell Street),
was actually more likely to be a Mile-End based street named "Pole Street", not many
turns removed from Dempsey Street.
111
(1889) untitled report, West Ham and South Essex Mail, 6 April, Ibid.
112
(1885) "Knocking a Woman's Eye Out", East London Observer, 25 July
57
We allowed ourselves to be sidetracked even more when we consulted Booth's
surveyor George H Duckworth's notebook in 1898113, describing Pell Street as being
notably inhabited by the cockney Irish:
“NE (North East) into Cable St turning south down Pell St (dark blue in map)-
several cockney Irish here, rough but not of the roughest class, houses look
particularly clean.”
The 1887 Booth's Survey114 for 18 Pell Street has a labourer living there, as well as
two additional rooms housing as many lodgers (occupations: unknown). As it turned
out, we discovered our mistake only weeks before sending off this article for
publication. Just to illustrate how seemingly minor assumptions may lead even the
most careful researcher into blind alleys, we, quite by chance, came across a Mile-
End based street named "Pole Street" in the Booth's notebook for Mile-End (1887)115,
and all of our assumptions - which had seemed so intuitively plausible in the beginning
- turned out likely to be incorrect.
You can imagine our hearts momentarily missing a beat when we thought we read
"Buckl" as resident of No. 3, but they promptly started beating again when we realised
it actually said: "Brickl", for bricklayer. By now we trust the reader will agree
researching Edward Buckley is like researching a minefield.
113
George H. Duckworth's Notebook: Police and Publican District 7 [Mile End Old Town and Spitalfields], District 8 [Aldgate,St
George's in the East, Shadwell], District 9 [Bethnal Green,North and South]
114
Notebook: St George's-in-the-East. School Board Visitors, Miss Martin (District F), Mr Golding (District E), Mr Dwane (District
E)
115
Notebook: Stepney, Mile End Old Town. School Board Visitors, Mr Dillon (District K), Mr Rattray (District R2)
58
Back on the Streets
If you remember, Edward (as Henry Jones) was sentenced to three months
imprisonment so it didn't take him long to get in trouble after his release.
On the 3rd August 1889 the East London Observer116 appears to answer the question
of if and to what extent Edward was associating with prostitutes post-1888 as well as
the current state of his violent inclinations:
“Edward Buckley, 34, was charged with being drunk and assaulting
Constable 410 H; and George Hall, 25, was charged with attempting to
rescue Buckley, and assaulting Constable 323 H- Mr. George Hay Young
defended Buckley.- Constable 410 H said that at 1.20 on Tuesday morning
he was in Commercial-road, when he saw Buckley with several prostitutes.
They were using obscene language, and witness requested them to go
away. They moved away a few yards and then stopped. Buckley called out
to witness “You — bastard,” and he then told him he should arrest him.
Buckley punched witness on the chest, and he arrested him. Constable 323
H assisted him to take Buckley. Hall then came up, used filthy language,
and caught hold of witness’s arm, at the same time saying, “You shan’t take
him.” When 323 H tried to get Hall away, he used filthy language and struck
the Constable on the chest. He was then arrested. - By Mr. Young: Witness
did not arrest Buckley for calling a woman a name. He and the women were
using obscene language. - Constable 323 H and 93 H corroborated the
latter part of the evidence of 410. For Buckley, Mr. Young contended that
his client should not have been arrested. He denied being drunk or having
assaulted the officer. - Hall also denied the charge. - Mr. Lushington
considered the case made out, and fined Buckley 10s. or 7 days, and Hall
20s. or 14 days hard labour.”
You may have noticed we also see Edward again associating with peripheral
characters, this time the 25-year-old George Hall assuming Thomas' role of his
brother's keeper. Hall may have been acquainted with Edward through their
overlapping incarcerations in Pentonville Prison in 1887117, and you can imagine we
were moderately intrigued by Assistant Commissioner Sir Robert Anderson inquiring
into a George Hall committed to Colney Hatch lunatic asylum in March of 1891118,
requiring the medical superintendent of the lunatic asylum to keep him appraised in
the event of Hall's discharge.
116
(1889) "The Police and the Public", East London Observer, 3 August
117
336)
118
Simon Daryl Wood, Deconstructing Jack, page 154
59
119
On a more general note: one wonders how many felonies a late 19 th century repeated
offender was allowed to perpetrate before the acting magistrate reconsidered his
lenient sentencing routine and put the perpetrator away for longer than a lousy 14
days.
From the 1889 Henry Jones affair with all of its kicking and screaming, we get a taste
of what appears to be a continual disintegration of Edward's mental situation, and it
now seems his brother Thomas (as well as the aforementioned George Hall, by the
way) suffered somewhat of a parallel downfall.
From a 14th July 1890 news report120 we learn Thomas was apparently "severely
injured in the abdomen" by a fish porter named Hughes ("of George street,
Spitalfields"). The report goes on to say that the attack transpired "in a common
lodging-house in Thrawl street", adding that "the man had been discharged from the
hospital, and did not appear to prosecute", which - it need not be pointed out - reminds
us of the way the Fashion Street knife incident was handled.
If we accept Dempsey Street as Edward's actual residency in April of 1889, we may

place Edward not too far removed from the affected area: not too far removed from
Portland Street in fact (where "Edward Butler" was purportedly residing in May 1888),
119
Photograph taken by Simon Wood
120
(1890) "Charges of Wounding", Hackney and Kingsland Gazette, 14 July
60
with both of the addresses pretty much sandwiched in between Whitechapel Road and
Commercial Road:
121
Although Dempsey Street was just one of many offshoots northbound from
Commercial Road, its proximity to the Tarling Street (Shadwell) and Fenton Street
addresses provided by Buckley after the 1884 attacks on Frances Jones, appears to
be a bit too coincidental for comfort. Add to that the last known address for Buckley
prior to his April '87 conviction (106 Sidney Street), and you end up with a ballpark
estimation of the locations Edward seems to have moved around in.
But just when you think Edward can only pop up in so many places, there he is again,
stomping around quite some considerable distance away.
On the 14th March 1890 the Cambridge Chronicle reported122 on a violent incident
involving a shoemaker Edward Buckley, who was staying at a lodging house in
Newmarket Road, just east of Cambridge:
“A Violent Man– Edward Buckley, shoemaker, staying at Pope’s lodging-

house, Newmarket Road, was charged with having been drunk, used bad
language, and resisted PC Sheldrick whilst in the execution of his duty, in
Albert Street, New Street, on friday evening. The constable having proved
the case, the prisoner was sent to prison for 14 days with hard labour.”
121
The Ordnance survey map extract, 1:1056 scale series of maps-1895 is reproduced with permission of the National Library
of Scotland
122
(1890) "A Violent Man", Cambridge Chronicle, 14 March
61
The next day the Cambridge Independent Press carried an expanded press report123
on the incident titled "A Second Crime Against Society", in which we are treated to
some additional detail:
“Edward Buckley, shoemaker, living at Pope's lodginghouse, Newmarket-

road, was charged with being drunk and using obscene language in Albert-
street and New-street; also with resisting Pc Sheldrick in the execution of
his duty, on the previous evening. – Prisoner admitted being drunk; but
denied the other offences.-- Pc Sheldrick said that Buckley was very
troublesome when taken into custody. He would walk a few yards, and then
stop and say, "I be —-- if I will go any further." When at the Police-station,
the prisoner refused to give his name and address.--- Prisoner: I do not see
how I could resist him at all. I said, "If you let me alone, I will go quietly. "---
Mr. Bond: you were evidently so drunk you did not know whether you were
using obscene language or not. – In answer to questions, Buckley said he
had been living in Cambridge several months. His wife was working in a
laundry. – Mr. Bond: Using obscene language is as bad as getting drunk.
People ought not to have their ears assailed with foul language.-- It is a
second crime against society. I think if you have fourteen days you will have
time to reflect upon your conduct. When you come out, keep a civil tongue
in your head, and don't use foul language.-- Prisoner: Can't you put a fine
on me? – Mr. Bond: No; I shall not put a fine on you. A fine would not do,
and you will have fourteen days' hard labour.-- Prisoner was then removed.”
Notice how this Edward was using the shoemaker-profession (minus the alias used by
"Henry Jones" eleven months prior). If this Edward Buckley is our Edward Buckley,
the move to Cambridge, as well as him claiming to have lived there "several months",
would mean he would have packed up his things not too long after the prostitute-
incident on Commercial Road in August of the previous year. It almost goes without
saying that the question of the purported "wife working in a laundry" has tempted us
to speculate in all kinds of directions (which is, as we have learned, precisely the
moment we should refrain from doing so).
How long Edward had remained in Cambridge is not known, but it would not be an
indefinite period of time as we find him in October 1891, once again causing all kinds
of trouble, this time up in Shoreditch of all places, in which general area we know his
sister Mary Ann moved with her family at some point after 1890.
On the 1st November 1891 The People reported124 on an incident that, to our
knowledge, is the first one explicitly connecting Edward to the Shoreditch area during
that time, adding some weight to the 1903 Habitual Drunkards description of
123
(1890) '"A Second Crime Against Society"', Cambridge Independent Press, 15 March
124
(1891) "Alleged Police Violence, The People, 1 November
62
Buckley125 known to have been a user of common lodging houses in Hoxton and
Whitechapel. It's also the first recorded instance that we know of that has Edward
using "commission agent" as his given occupation.
“Worship-street
Alleged police violence.- Edward Buckley, 48, described as a commission

agent, and giving an address at Stepney, was charged with being drunk and
disorderly at High-street, Shoreditch, and assaulting PC Humphreys, 255
G, by striking him in the face.- The constable said that at 11 o'clock on Friday
night, the prisoner was drunk, and pushed against him, the constable, and
then smacked his face with his open hand. He took him into custody.-
Replying to the prisoner, he said that they both fell; but he denied having
done anything to the prisoner to make him fall nor anything to lead to the
assault.-“
In this case the trial actually turned into a police brutality case, the details of which we
won't bore you with, but suffice it to say the arresting constable ended up having to
defend his adherence to police procedure whilst the prisoner was summarily released.
On the 4th December 1891 Frances Jones (general servant, 26) pops up on another
Stepney workhouse infirmary record126, with the cause of admission given as
“pregnancy", possibly indicating she was suffering yet another problematic term. No
further details were given, except that she was discharged on the 25th January 1892.
From another infirmary record127 we learn that the child, named "Frances Jones, child
of Frances", was successfully delivered on the 3rd January 1892. Sadly, the child died
three days later.
By 1894 Edward had gone back to his favourite pastime: larceny, again in the company
of another fellow, this time one William Hudson (wrongly named "Anson" in the press
report). The age for Edward, again, is not entirely correct, consistent only in its
inconsistency, as he had given false ages for himself throughout his "career" as an
East End tough.
125
UK, Registers of Habitual Criminals and Police Gazettes, 1834-1934, Habitual Drunkards: Portraits and Descriptions 1903
Jan-May (page 42)
126
London, England, Workhouse Admission and Discharge Records, 1764-1921, London Metropolitan Archives; London,
England; Reference Number: STBG/WH/123/023 (page 120)
127
Ibid. (page 131)
63
The Times reports128:
At Thames, Edward Buckley, 43, and William Anson, 28, were charged with
stealing 17s. 6d. from the person of Martin Lieff, a slipper-maker, of Ernest-
street, Stepney, and, further, with assaulting him. Prosecutor deposed that
on Thursday night he was in a beerhouse and saw prisoners there. When
going home he was seized by Buckley, who held his arms and put one hand
over his mouth, while the other prisoner "went down" him and took every
halfpenny he had. They then ran away. On Friday night he saw Buckley in
Turner-street, and gave him into custody. Buckley said, "I did it for your
good." Witness had had "a drop," and did not know that at one public house
he was refused to be served. Detective S. Kendall said that when Buckley
was charged he said, "I was with him last night, and tried to save him."
Detective Gill said that on being arrested Anson said, "I know nothing at all
about the robbery." Mr. Dickinson committed the prisoners for trial.”
The Old Bailey transcript of the trial (held on the 2nd April 1894)129 is in rough keeping
with the press report. Witness deposed:
“I was in a public-house in Stepney, and saw the prisoners there-I had seen
them before-I gave them several drinks, and then said "I am going home"-I
was a little on, and as I went out I was followed by two men-Buckley held
me by my arms from behind, and put one hand on my mouth-"
Confirming the witness was somewhat familiar with the prisoners, he also expanded
on Edward's words after he gave him into custody:
“I saw Buckley next day outside the Bull and Mouth, and gave him into
custody—he said, "I only did it for your goodness"—"
Kendall provided some additional details:
“On March 31st I took Buckley—I was with Sepp, who said, "That is the one
who held my arms at the back while the other took the money"—Buckley
said, "I was with him last night, and tried to save him; he knows who done
it"—when charged he said, "The prosecutor knows the other man."
Detective Gill summarised Buckley’s co-offender’s words as follows:
“I was with him, but I know nothing about it.”
128
(1894) Untitled press report, Times (London), 2 April
129
BUCKLEY (43) WILLIAM HUDSON (30) (t18940402-370)
64
Buckley's statement before the Magistrate:
“They refused to serve him. He had a row with some Germans. He must
know I could not hold him in the way he said.”
As Buckley only had two arms, in Sepp’s version of events Edward must have used
one arm to lock both of prosecutor's arms from behind, while using the other to prevent
him from screaming out. Because of the apparent drunken state of the prosecutor, no
sentence was spoken and the prisoners were released130.
Edward Buckley the Commission Agent also appeared before the magistrate, but this
time in Lambeth, in May of 1895, on a charge of disorderly conduct and assaulting two
people, one of whom a police detective. He was fined a mere 20 shillings or 14 days
imprisonment. One of the press reports131 on that last incident (18th May 1895), by the
way, provides us with a ludicrously high age for Buckley (66), requiring one to consider
one of two things: it was yet another age-deception scheme employed by Edward
(which on the face of it appears unlikely), or we're talking about a different Edward
altogether.
Another article132, this time in the Cork Constitution of Thursday 16th May 1895, reveals
a bit more detail, especially in regard to the impression Edward made on the
prosecutors. In this article the prisoner is 60, and the prisoner was tried at Lambeth
Police Court:
“Edward Buckley, sixty, commission agent, was charged at Lambeth Police

Court with disorderly conduct. He was further charged with assaulting
Edward Whale and Detective Burgess. Edward Whale said he was riding a
bicycle along the Walworth Road when a boy ran into the side of the
machine. Before he could recover himself the prisoner ran up to him and
struck him in the mouth. Detective Burgess said he saw a crowd, and upon
going to the spot, saw the prisoner strike the prosecutor. He told the parties
he was a police officer, and advised them to go away. The prisoner then
130
98)
131
(1895) "Expensive Conduct", South London Press, 18 May
132
(1895), Untitled, Cork Constitution, 16 May
65
struck him on the lip, and behaved more like a maniac than an ordinary
individual. Mr. Hopkins remarked that this was very strange conduct. The
prisoner declared that his object was to stop the prosecutor in order that it
might be seen whether the boy was injured. Mr. Hopkins fined him 20s or
14 days.”
The comment about the maniac, of course, rings true, as well as the occupation detail
of commission agent, but alas we're not a hundred percent on the Lambeth Edward
Buckley.
The Unravelling of Edward Buckley
One Edward we are a hundred percent about is the Edward Buckley spotted by City
PC 989 who was riding along on a tram car in Commercial-road on the 3rd November
1896, when he noticed Edward taking his clothes off mid-street and wrapping them up
in a bundle.
The titles of the respective press reports devoted to the incident form a colourful
parade of epithets ranging from "a strange freak"133 to "naked and not ashamed"134 to
"a mad freak in the public street"135 to "too warm"136 (we kinda liked that one). It was
only a matter of time of course before an illustration of the event was printed, aware
as the press was (and is) of the public's alert appetite for such particulars. On the 14th
November 1896 The Illustrated Police News did the honours, depicting a strange-
smiling Edward, pipe in mouth, picking up the clothes he had just taken off as the
constable makes his way towards him:
133
(1896), "A Strange Freak", Echo, 4 November
134
(1896), "Naked and Not Ashamed", Daily News, 5 November
135
(1896), "A Mad Freak in the Public Street", The Illustrated Police News, 14 November
136
(1896), "Too Warm", Morning Leader, 5 November
66
The illustration was accompanied by a short press article137 giving a description of the
event:
“Edward Buckley, 50, was charged at Thames with disorderly conduct.
City Police-constable 989 stated that on Tuesday, while riding along the
Commercial Road on a tramcar, he saw the prisoner, who was on the
pavement, take off all his clothes, wrap them up into a bundle, and walk
towards Limehouse. The witness got off, and took Buckley into custody.
Assistant-gaoler Harris said the prisoner only came out of prison on

Monday, after serving one month's hard labour for assaulting the police. On
one occasion he was sent to the workhouse as a lunatic.
In reply to the magistrate, Buckley said he had nothing to say with regard to
the charge. Mr. Mead told him he had been found guilty of most disgraceful
conduct, and he might have been committed for trial for exposing himself in
137
(1896), "A Mad Freak in the Public Street", The Illustrated Police News, 14 November, Ibid.
67
that way. On that occasion, however, he would be bound over to keep the
peace.”
The Daily News of Thursday 5th November 1896 adds the occupation of the offender
as being an "agent"; another report says "commission agent". The 5 th November press
report also has gaoler Harris stating that the defendant only two days prior had been
released from a one-month hard labour incarceration, so that would come down to the
3rd November, meaning his incarceration lasted from roughly the beginning of October
to early November 1896. In addition, the article mentions a previous workhouse
admittance to which he was apparently sent as a lunatic, but to date we haven't been
able to find supporting documentation in either workhouse, infirmary or asylum records
to substantiate this apparent off the cuff remark, so the question if and when exactly
this last committal was supposed to have taken place is still subject to debate; given
the violent lunacy he appeared to have displayed in years past, we are inclined to
believe there might be some truth to the supposition.
Another reason why we had great difficulty in connecting Edward to lunatic asylums
pre 1896 could be that these admissions would not have gone through the usual
workhouse or infirmary records as such, possibly indicating such a committal would
have followed directly after a term of imprisonment, any records therefore not
becoming immediately obvious via the traditional searching tools of the industrious
Mormons or any other workhouse or infirmary records listing the transfers, such as
those available via Ancestry.
All this does not mean, in other words, that there were no pre 1896 asylum committals,
but it does mean accessing those records, if they exist, would have gone through the
asylum archives themselves and it is a well-known fact that it takes a very special sort
of researcher to find his or her way in (and out of) this tangled web.
Enter Jose Oranto.
As we had already found a certification of insanity138 for Edward dated 17th February
1897, one day after having been received by Pentonville Prison, Jose managed to
secure a Banstead record139 in addition to the certification140, which commented on
Buckley's condition.
138
The National Archives of the Uk; Kew, Surrey, England; Commissioners in Lunacy, 1845–1913. Lunacy Patients Admission
Registers, Series MH 94; Piece: 33 (page 106)
139
London Metropolitan Archives, H22/BAN/B/01/045
140
Home Office. Criminal Lunacy Warrant and Entry Books, Series HO 145, Piece 9: 1896 Feb - 1898 Oct
68
“Seems to be coherent and free from delusions and hallucinations. Sleeps
and eats well. Appears to have been drinking to excess. Complains of
feeling weak and ill.”
From what we know of Edward, the excessive drinking comes as no surprise, of

course. In fact it may have been the cause of the affliction as recorded on admission:
“Impaired
Inflammation of left conjunctiva on admission”
Also called "pink eye", inflammation of the conjunctiva causes redness of the eye and
can be the result of a viral, bacterial as well as non-infectious etiologies, the most
common being allergic and toxin-induced conjunctivitis.
69
A cursory google search seems to indicate alcohol is not regarded as a particularly
prominent root cause of the affliction, so connecting one to the other would be
stretching things, not to mention overstepping the bounds of both our particular
expertise, none of which merit any half-plausible physiological determinations. Or
psychological ones, for that matter. In any case, the patient's apparently improved
condition as described above may have caused him to be discharged 141 at the end of
the following month already (26th March 1897).
Between March 1897 and the start of the 20 th century a rather uneventful and un-
Edward-like silence sets in. During this extended chasm in time and place, Edward
seems to be absent in workhouse/infirmary records, which is not to say they don't
exist, but to our mind the absence is remarkable enough to comment on within the
context of this particular phase of Edward's life, especially since there is also a notable
lack of press reports from the period. The most obvious answer to the question of
where the hell Edward was hiding is a possible extended committal somewhere.
Wherever he was, it seems unlikely he would have become a born-again Christian in
the meantime.
The first instance Edward reappears from this extended leave of absence is a record
from a 1901 Workhouse infirmary admission record142 for an infliction called phthisis.
At admission on the 19th March by order of Eagles Hospital, Edward is described as a
labourer, place of residency given as 41 Commercial Street, i.e. the Victoria Home (as
referenced in the 1901 census). The date of discharge is listed on the 30th March 1901.
Even more remarkable is an admission recorded on the previous day, the 18th March,
actually recorded on the same exact page143, listing a 40-year-old "Francis Jones",
"draper's assistant", admitted from 90 Wentworth Street, also by order of Eagles
Hospital, as a result of "haemoptysis" (the coughing up of blood). The record mentions
the discharge date being exactly one month after admission.
141
The National Archives of the Uk; Kew, Surrey, England; Commissioners in Lunacy, 1845–1913. Lunacy Patients Admission
Registers, Series MH 94; Piece: 33 (page 106)
142
London Metropolitan Archives; London, England; Reference Number: STBG/WH/123/034 (page 122)
143
London Metropolitan Archives; London, England; Reference Number: STBG/WH/123/034 (page 122), Ibid.
70
The ages for both Edward and "Francis" correspond fairly well to their respective ages,
which could point to the unthinkable: was Edward stalking poor Frances even now,
following her through workhouse infirmaries?
We next run into Edward some five months later, on the 17th August 1901, when the
Eastern Post reported144 on another assault, this time at Commercial Street police
station:
"Edward Buckley, 56, living in Spitalfields, was charged with assaulting

Police-constable Giles, 283 H, at Commercial-street station.-- The prisoner,
who had been repeatedly before this court, and many times convicted for
assault, had been taken to the station for disorderly conduct. In the dock he
struck out violently and knocked the constable down. He was sentenced to
a month for disorderly conduct, and three months for assault,
consecutively."
Around a year after his presumed release around December of that year (1901), the
countenance of Edward was immortalised by the Metropolitan Police in their Portraits
and Descriptions of Habitual Drunkards145:
144
(1901), "Assault", Eastern Post, 17 August
145
London, England: Mayor’s Office for Policing and Crime. MEPO 6: Metropolitan Police: Criminal Record Office: Habitual
Criminals Registers and Miscellaneous Papers, Habitual Drunkards, Jan-May 1903, Kew, Surrey, England: The National Archives
71
Besides the distinctive long ears mentioned, the description mentions a scar on the
bridge of the nose as well as one on the right side of the neck, the prisoner's height
being measured at 5 feet, 6 inches. When we blow up the image, we notice a drifting
right eye and, although somewhat obscured by the beard and moustache, a drooping
left corner of the mouth.
72
Next, (and it’s almost a miracle we didn’t miss this) we found Edward in the Register
of Lunatics in asylums, the reference number(s) after his name (53-340) referring146
to him being admitted from the Whitechapel infirmary into Leavesden lunatic asylum
on the 28th June 1904. As you can see, the entry is very much smudged and faded,
and if one was not looking for a particular name, one would miss it entirely:
The Woodford Times carried a report147 dated the 18th June 1906, mentioning the
erroneous age (64) for Edward again, but including the usual "cigar maker" as well as
his sister's address. The report is titled "Pickpockets Captured" and reads:
“At the Stratford Police Court on Monday, Edward Buckley, 64, cigar maker,
of 19, Brunswick Street, Hackney Road; and John Clark, 56, cabinet maker,
Victoria Hotel, Blackfriars, were charged with being suspected persons
146
Register of lunatics in asylums, June 1893-1914, STBG/WH/118/04 (from folio 65) (page 604/605)
147
(1906) "Pickpockets Captured", Woodford Times, 8 June
73
found attempting to pick pockets, at Forest New Road, Woodford, on June
3rd.-- Detective Eggboro saw the prisoners mingling with the crowds of
people who were boarding and leaving the tram-cars on Sunday evening.
After a time he saw a scuffle between Clark and another man, and arrested
Clark and Buckley.-- John May, of Carisbrook Road, Walthamstow, said on
Sunday evening he was boarding a tram-car and felt himself being hustled
by someone. He caught the younger prisoner with his hand in his pocket,
but with the assistance of the other prisoner, who was covering his
movements, Clark got away. – Prisoners, who stated that they did not wish
to make any defence, were sent for three months' hard labour.”
In March of the following year the Morning Leader148 has Edward making yet another
appearance, this time in Aldgate where he was found "in a state of great mental
excitement", running after people announcing he had blown up London Bridge.
In an ever so brief press snippet titled “I'm a certified lunatic” published by the Daily
News, we are permitted a glimpse149 into the impression Edward apparently conveyed
upon the audience present:
Amongst the prisoners at the Guildhall yesterday was Edward Buckley, but
before being placed in the dock it was considered advisable that Dr.
Buncombe should examine him.
When the case was called on Police-constable Butchers said he saw

Buckley on Tuesday afternoon running after people in Aldgate and shouting,
"I've just blown up London Bridge." (Laughter.) When witness advised him
to go away he kicked him on both legs.
The Chief Clerk: What have you to say? Prisoner (doggedly): I'm a certified
lunatic- that's all I've got to say. (Laughter.)
Dr. Buncombe expressed the opinion that the accused now knew what he
was doing. His was, however, a case of chronic alcoholism, and he required
treatment.
Alderman Howse: I shall remand him for a week to give him time to sober
down.”
To our knowledge this is the first time since the 1897 Banstead asylum record that
chronic alcoholism is specifically mentioned as well as the previous certification of
insanity.
148
(1907) "Going to Stagger Humanity", Morning Leader, 14 March
149
(1907) "I'm a Certified Lunatic, Daily News, 14 March
74
Although usually only superficially commented upon, we get a distinct impression of
an almost comical strangeness that sometimes invoked laughter in the listening
audience. But looking at Edward's recorded statements collectively, and reminding
oneself of his past villainy, these appearances acquire a more sinister significance.
Interestingly, the Morning Leader article adds to Buckley's curious phraseology:
"I've just blown-up London-Bridge with a bomb, and am going to stagger

humanity."
It also adds Edward was "surrounded by a large crowd". The snippet ends with the
remark that Buckley "cheerfully informed the Court that he was a certified lunatic". For
once, Edward spoke true.
In May of 1909 up pops Buckley again, this time from a Whitechapel Union/Mile End
creed register150 recording his admittance from the Whitechapel Infirmary on the 11 th
May 1909. Describing Edward as a "hawker" in this rather lengthy administrative
record151, it also mentions the Shoreditch-based address of his sister Mary Ann.
The matter of committals came up again during a report dated 31st July 1909 published
by the Tower Hamlets Independent and East End Local Advertiser152, covering yet
another larceny event, this time on Whitechapel Road:
“Owner wanted for a purse. Edward Buckley, a middle-aged man, who has
made periodical appearances at this court for many years past, was
charged with stealing a purse from a gentleman unknown. Charles Grover,
a London County Council tram inspector, said that while watching a crowd
attempting to board a tram car at Gardiner’s Corner, Whitechapel Road, he
saw Buckley pushing among the people. The prisoner knocked a
gentleman’s hat off his head, and as he did so “borrowed his purse”. Mr.
Dickinson: You are polite. Continuing, the witness said that the accused put
his hand forward, and when he drew it back he was holding the purse. He
"claimed" Buckley who dropped the purse. The gentleman went away in the
car, and had not been traced. When a constable was called, Buckley said,
"It's all right. You don't want to worry; I'll go quietly." The purse contained
10s and three German coins.
150
South Grove Institution, Mile End Road, creed register, 1908-1923, STBG/WH/132/09
151
Under "nearest relatives" section it records "Sis. Mary A Clark, 19 Bromswick St (corrected to Brunswick Street)", adding
"Shoreditch" to the notation, which seems to settle that particular misunderstanding. In later records we were also provided with
the Clapham address connected to his brother (John), to whom he- at least in 1911 and 1913- was also sometimes admitted.
152
(1909) "Owner wanted for a purse", Tower Hamlets Independent and East End Local Advertiser, 31 July
75
Reginald Clarke, tram regulator, said that he saw the accused push
unnecessarily among the people, and also saw him steal the purse.
Previous to that the witness saw him get on and off a car.
Mr. Dickinson: What did he say when you caught hold of him?
Clarke: He thought an earthquake had happened.
Mr. Dickinson ordered the prisoner to be remanded.”
You will notice Edward's words after he was arrested by the constable in 1909 ("It's all
right. You don't want to worry; I'll go quietly") sounds strangely similar to the words of
the Cambridge Edward Buckley after his arrest in March 1890: "If you let me alone, I
will go quietly." The Eastern Post of the 7th August 1909153, also reporting on the 1909
larceny attempt, adds a remarkable statement by Buckley:
“I want to go for trial. Do you know I have several times been in an asylum?”
And:
“Mr. Dickinson, addressing Buckley, said, "You are committed for trial. As
to your having been in an asylum, I know you have been continually in prison
since 1885.”
One could argue that this is the habitual criminal talking, this time not using a crippled
foot or lame left hand like he used to, but resorting to some kind of insanity plea
instead, in the hopes of getting himself committed and thus avoiding the treadmill. But
if avoiding incarceration was his objective, he failed miserably. On the 10 th August
1909 Edward Buckley was sentenced to his longest continual incarceration to date: 21
months imprisonment at Wormwood Scrubs.
This particular conviction and subsequent lock-up, by the way, provided us with the
invaluable document from the UK Calendar of Prisoners which we have mentioned a
couple of times now154, connecting the (purported) 65-year-old tailor-Edward Buckley
(he was actually 55 at the time) to "cigar maker" and "commission agent" Edward
Buckley, caught and convicted for the wounding of Frances Jones in October 1885.
153
(1909) "Theft at Whitechapel, Eastern Post, 7 August
154
883), Ibid.
76
Notice again how one would never have made the connection (or a very tenuous one
at best) if it were not for the reference to the 12-month sentence he received on the
26th October 1885 after the savage assault on Frances Jones at 5 Devonshire Street.
A 1911 description, recorded after his release from Wormwood Scrubs, clearly
references the same Edward (as well as his brother John's address) and adds some
physical features such as Edward's apparent height being 5 ft 4 and a half inches,
contrasting somewhat with the height mentioned on the habitual drunkards description
of 1903, which has him on 5 ft 6. One might resolve the discrepancy in relation to
Edward's height on the basis of the fact people are subject to shrinkage as they age,
so in that sense it might not be such a great discrepancy after all.
The observant reader will also notice many other convictions are entirely absent from
the 1909 convictions record, such as the 9-month sentence after the Kempton Race
Larceny affair of April 1887, possibly due to different courts handling different cases.
So although the list of felonies amounts to a rap sheet that would make most hardened
criminals blush, the real total royally exceeds even this one. We will of course not
speak of possible crimes perpetrated for which he was never caught or convicted, nor
possible convictions under one or several of the aliases Edward was known to have
used during the course of his long and sordid career, respectively John Jones (1899),
Henry Smith (1902), George Smith (1903), and John Brown (1908, 1911). Whether he
made use of any of them prior to 1889 on a regular basis has not been definitively
77
established, although we may confidently add the 1889 "Henry Jones" ("properly
named Buckley") to the list, and possibly also "Edward Butler".
In Closing
Reconstructing the last chapter in the story of Edward Buckley has proven to be a
laborious task. Trawling through the countless workhouse and infirmary records had
kept us busy for months, even though we were aided by the zealous record keeping
of the industrious Mormons. And not a moment too soon either, for shortly after we
had scoured, selected and retrieved the Buckley material, they chose to restrict access
to most of the Stepney records without so much as a cautionary announcement.
Putting the puzzle pieces of documentation together has proved to be much less
straightforward than one would hope, but we think we’ve managed to reconstruct a
rough timeline from both Whitechapel Union and South Grove registers 155 spanning a
period of almost two decades.
Reproducing every single entry would be impossible within the context of this article
but suffice it to say the amount of admissions and discharges is truly astonishing. This
Whitechapel infirmary document156 illustrates the enormity quite adequately: no less
than 15 dates of admittances and as many discharges are documented over a span
of three consecutive pages.
When we look at the individual admissions and discharges in more detail, we get an
almost surreal impression of Edward Buckley’s final years, basically demonstrating
that his movements were predominantly confined to the Spitalfields area at this stage.
As a consequence of a lifetime full of severe alcohol abuse, things predictably
progressed downwards as Edward moved in and out of lodging-houses and
155
Whitechapel infirmary admission and discharge registers, October 1912-June 1913.
156
Whitechapel infirmary admission and discharge registers, October 1912-June 1913, Ibid.
78
workhouse infirmaries, like a ghost of his former self, coughing and spitting his way
through old and familiar haunts.
The addresses from which Edward was admitted include 24 Thrawl Street, 7 & 17
Duval (formerly Dorset) Street, 28 Whites Row, 22 Thrawl Street, 41 Commercial
Street, 177 & 20 Whitechapel Road, 63 Brick Lane, with records from Edward's last
wretched year on this earth simply stating him to have been "Found in Brick Lane"
(February 1923, by PC 82 H);
and "Found in Hanbury St" (June 1923, by PC 160 H);
And with that last entry, Edward disappears from the Whitechapel workhouse and
infirmary records altogether.
As one death register157 mentions Edward having died in the first quarter of 1924 in
Shoreditch, we immediately assumed he was brought back to his sister at last, perhaps
to finally die, although his death certificate has not the sister but his niece reporting158
the demise of Edward Buckley on the 6th February 1924, with the place of death given
as 204 Hoxton Street, Shoreditch (Shoreditch workhouse infirmary), his age incorrectly
registered as 70 years old (he was actually 69). His death was registered the following
day.
157
England & Wales, Civil Registration Death Index, 1916-2007, General Register Office; United Kingdom; Volume: 1c; Page:
109
158
Occupation: "Of no home, a cigar maker (journeyman)". Cause of death is given as "Chronic bronchitis", the death having
been reported by informant "A. Cushion, Niece, 13 Provost Dwellings, Nile Street, Shoreditch".
79
Edward Buckley was buried in a common grave at St. Patrick's Catholic Cemetery on
the 12th February 1924159. On the cemetery records the place of death is listed as his
sister Mary Ann Clark's home address (19 Brunswick Street, Hackney Road,
Shoreditch). Whether he actually died at the infirmary at 204 Hoxton Street or his
sister's address, appears unclear but not overly significant.
What became of Frances Jones we have yet to establish, but we trust further research
will one day deliver us from our uncertainty. We hope at some point she managed to
break free from the shadow of Edward and live the rest of her life in relative peace and
quiet, but somehow we are doubtful this turned out to be the case.
Hope is a rare thing within the Edward Buckley story, the broad outlines of which we
have here attempted to display. Rather, it is filled with suffering and injustice at every
turn, not in the least in the sad fact that the fiend lived to a ripe old age. That he likely
spent his wretched last days in constant bronchial agony, possibly worsened by half a
century of excessive alcohol indulgence, allows us to squeeze at least a droplet of
comfort from this otherwise despondent tale.
159
Burial registration book from 1924, page 244; registration number 102915, and confirmed on 14th August 2023 to Jose Oranto
by an employee of St. Patricks Catholic Cemetery, the exact burial location being Plot 11b, row 11, grave number 28.
80
In closing we would like to include a final thought on the future of Edward Buckley
research. As we are quite sure there should still exist a lot more material waiting to be
unearthed, we passionately hope that the research presented here will spark enough
interest in researchers for them to add to it. Not from the point of view of Edward as
any ripper suspect, but for the sake of the research itself.
And ultimately, for the sake of Frances Jones.
81

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Introducing Edward Buckley

Life & Crimes of a Whitechapel Fiend

Jurriaan Maessen & Jonathan Tye

(with significant contributions by Jose Oranto)

Like Scott, we too reserve judgement as to the significance of Buckley in relation to

So began an invigorating and at times maddening five-month adventure that paused

Although the thought of "ripper" at times crept up on us as we researched the Buckley

The Fashion Street Stabbing

“On Monday, at Worship Street Police-court, Charles Donovan, 21, a

Edward's brother Thomas opened with the following statement:

“I am a general dealer, of 29, Morgan Street—on Saturday night, 24th

Then Donovan started his cross-examination of the witness (question omitted).

"You asked me to take my brother away. - I had no row with anyone

Next up was Edward himself, who stated for the record:

“I am a cigar maker, and live at 50, Dempsey Street—I do not remember

"I am house surgeon at the Metropolitan Free Hospital—on 4th February, a

Frances Jones (possibly known as "Fanny") in many ways is quintessential to the

At two o'clock this morning the Constable on duty in Whitechapel-road saw

Unfortunately, we were unable to locate a Farbin or Farling Street anywhere in or near

Through later articles, special significance is attached to the testimony of Frances

In closing the report adds:

Mr. Bridge further remanded him, and agreed to accept bail.”

“Robert Jacob, horse-dealer, of Huntingdon-street, Kingsland-road; Edward

"Covered with blood up to the hilt"

“Monday,- Before Mr Saunders Serious Charge of Stabbing,- Edward

Frances was discharged from the infirmary three days later.

The Devonshire Street Attack

“Edward Buckley, a cigar maker, of 14, Helmsley-street, Whitechapel, was

Date: 1885 October 2

Sketch by artist Nic Wilmot, June 2023

“the witness, at the time, told him quite a different tale.”

“all of whom, however, denied knowing anything about the affair.”

Here Sergeant Adams was also compelled to correct the witness:

This Edward, incidentally, died of tuberculosis in 1906.

We also found Edwards appearing on many-a-prison record throughout the 1870s

A March 1874 Wandsworth Prison record84 mentions an anchor-shaped tattoo on the

At the Kempton Park Races

Looking ahead, physical impediments purportedly suffered by Edward turned out to

Thomas the Mile-End Hellraiser & The Watney Street Edward

Because – again - to our knowledge no documentation in regards to Edward's exact

On the 4th May 1888, the Evening News reported102:

“SERVE HIM RIGHT Edward Butler, 33, of 12, Portland-street, was

“At Worship street, London, Henry Jones, shoemaker, of Dempsey-street,

As mentioned, the hell-raising "Henry Jones", shoemaker, is being described as "of

“At Worship street, London, Henry Jones, shoemaker, of Dempsey-street,

If we accept Dempsey Street as Edward's actual residency in April of 1889, we may

“A Violent Man– Edward Buckley, shoemaker, staying at Pope’s lodging-

“Edward Buckley, shoemaker, living at Pope's lodginghouse, Newmarket-

Alleged police violence.- Edward Buckley, 48, described as a commission

Kendall provided some additional details:

Detective Gill summarised Buckley’s co-offender’s words as follows:

“I was with him, but I know nothing about it.”

“Edward Buckley, sixty, commission agent, was charged at Lambeth Police

The Unravelling of Edward Buckley

“Edward Buckley, 50, was charged at Thames with disorderly conduct.

Assistant-gaoler Harris said the prisoner only came out of prison on

Enter Jose Oranto.

From what we know of Edward, the excessive drinking comes as no surprise, of

"Edward Buckley, 56, living in Spitalfields, was charged with assaulting

When the case was called on Police-constable Butchers said he saw

"I've just blown-up London-Bridge with a bomb, and am going to stagger

Clarke: He thought an earthquake had happened.

Mr. Dickinson ordered the prisoner to be remanded.”