THE WHITECHAPEL MURDER.

Patea Mail, Volume I, Issue 99, 22 March 1876, Page 3

THE WHITECHAPEL MURDER.

The following extraordinary letter signed by the man Stokes, wlm chief instrument in bringing Waimvright to the scaffold, was sent to the Governor of Newgate for the convict, and published in the London papers :—“ V 4, Baker’s Bow, Whitechapel, December IG—Dear yi r< —Will you permit me to address you a f-w lines to tell yon how extremely sovry I am when I think ol the awful position in which you are now placed. 1 feel I must wri.e to you to say that I trust you will not consider what I have done or said against you was either said or done from any personal malice towards v>>u, or that I was lacking in friendship towards you, because I could not bring mvself to any endeavor to try and screen yon. On the contrary, 1 and all to whom I have spoken, and who were formerly in your employment, have always esteemed you as a kind and good master, and always a most generous friend. God and yourself only knows how much you were concerned in the terrible crime laid to your charge; hut i do hope and trust that you'll consider that in giving my evidence against you I only fulfilled a n itional duty, whili I believe was the will of God, and which 1 know was done in the interests ol humanity. When I say it was the will of God, 1 must now tell you more of the details of the strange promptings 1 had to open the par-“l than I have hitherto mad; piMi - . Perhaps you think, as I know many in the world think, that 1 wan only moved by a base and a prying curiosity. But I can assure you, between myself and God, that it was not that, hut that J, in reality, was urged as it were by a strange mysterious agency for which .1 cai scarcely account. Probably the world may laugh, and you, too, at what I am going to tell you: hut I declare it to be true It has caused me more than ever to he convinced that there is a God and a super-human power around us, and I hope it will cause you to think so, too. These unaccountable promptings began the very moment you left me with that frightful bundle while you went to fetch the cab. The very instant your back was turned I seemed to hear a supernatural voice say to me three times, as distinctly as though it were us though it were a human voice somewhere near me, “ Open tnat parcel! Open that parcel! Look in that parcel!’, 1 at first thought that perhaps you were carrying away hair, or something not belonging to you, and I hesitated what 1 should do. I seemed to. hear the voice upin, and thou felt pressed on by an irresistible impulse to open it. I immediately rout it open. The head and hands came up together, and as I stood for a moment aghast at the mutilated head, so grim and yet apparently so pitiable, thinking over and puzzling what I should say to you when you came back, I seemed instantly possessed and eonti oiled by a power and agency—by a cautionary prudence and energy not ray own, and certainly not naturaly to mo ; and then, as 1 hastily closed up the parcel, thinking that it would be best to say nothing about it, I seemed to hear the same supernatural voice address me again, and say, ‘ Murder j it is a murder. Will you con'ccat a murder ?’ I then said, ‘‘No;- not for my' owii’ father. Oh ! pray God direct me aright; but shall I give np 'tltP very best friend I have had! in'my life V You' then, came up with the cab, took the parcels, and drove away. , As I stood for a moment in utter consternation, with my hair

feeling sis though it stood ere.a uu my ln':ul. 1 immediately seemed to hear the same voice again addressing me, and saving, i Follow that cab iollow that cab.’ lat once did so; I set on to rim as though I was propelled along; I ran till I nearly dropped ot exhaustion, and certainly seemed sustained a strength superior to my own, Urns, tnmi the romemberance ot that strange inexplicable power which so suddenly overruled me, I feel convinced that I was really destined to be the_ humble medium by which that mysterious and barbarous murder was to be brought to light. Had it been left to my own natural i pulse in tbe matter, the probability is that the crime avouM not have been so fully detected. Under these circumstances, then I do trust tout you will pemually lorg'ive uio, My own personal grid is very great when I relit ot upon the awful position my evidence has placed you in, and the terrible bereavement it lias entailed upon your poor wife, your children, and vunr iamily. No doubt, in luture years, i will often ponder over your untimely end, and regret that it was I who hail to perform such a painiul national duty" ; but it will greatly" assuage my regret when 1, in future years, relleet that 1 did all 1 could to assure you that I bad no personal enmity' to yon. As a loimer friend, I now ask you to makeyoiu peace with God. There arc many who, like myself, know the desperate straits into which you were driven, and that, without a doubt, yours is the story ol a fallen and mis-speut life. Among the many classes which constitute this great world of London, you were at one time the very orbit of one—the very centre of which others ot that particular class looked up as their guide. L our extraordinary firmness may excite their admiration, but there, empty approbation can avail you nothing. Let me then, in the end, beg ol you not to be led to mistake, as some do, a dogged ohstinaev for manliness, and persistent silence for pluck. All look upon you as a highly intelligent and educated man, and yon will, therefore, not fail to see that “they are the most truly manly who, when they have done wrong, frankly acknowledge it, thus showing that they' esteem not the commendation of those who in some classes of society, would say, ‘Be game to the end.’ I have been very much touched lately by attending some of the special religious services held on your behalf in the East-end. Many friends Avho wen; your former associates, were praying for you, and at one place they sang a special hymn, entitled “ 1 am praying for you,” I enclose you a copy, and may it he the means of touching and softening your heart; and further, as these will he the last i can over hope to address to you, and as I must now’ take a solemn and awful farewell of you for ever, my humble prayer is that God will he truly merciful towards you. And now, goodbye for ever, both in time and eternity'. “ From your grieved and obedient servant, Am-'kkd I’uiMr Stokhs “To Mr Henry Waiuwright.”