Jack the Ripper: The Hand of a Woman

him, causing him to retire so early from the profession he loved. More likely it was the horrific discovery that his wife was a murderer – and the appalling realisation that he was indirectly to blame.
    We believe that it was Lizzie Williams who had become unwell. Perhaps soon after the murders ended, and before the end of that calendar year, overcome by the strain, fear and enormity of what she had done, she suffered a delayed nervous or mental breakdown . In the circumstances, and coupled with her other traumas, such an illness would not have been surprising. Then she may have confessed her sins to her husband through endless floods of tears, while begging his forgiveness; this would explain the contents of the letter Tony Williams found among his great-great-uncle’s personal effects in the National Library of Wales. She may even have given him the shoe-maker’s knife, ‘well-ground down’, she had used in the Stride murder, as proof of her crimes, which he placed with his personal possessions, where it would remain undisturbed until its discovery by Tony Williams several decades later.
    It is possible that, up to this point, Lizzie Williams had appeared to everyone – her husband, family, friends, and neighbours if she knew them – as perfectly normal, likeable even. She may have been quiet and reserved, or amiable and charming. But no one would have guessed at the burning turmoil which lay beneath her outer veneer of solid Victorian respectability, though it is clear that Dr Williams suspected that something was wrong with her – which was why he had kept a diary – and later removed its many telling pages.
    Shocked by her admission, upset, confused and not knowing what he should do – except that he could not allow Lizzie to remain in London – Dr Williams made the arrangements he thought best and sent her back to her family in Wales, far away from Whitechapel and the police who were frantically searching for the murderer, known by the pseudonym Jack the Ripper. There, he knew she would be properly, and lovingly, cared for – and kept out of harm’s way – at least until the panic was over, and she was able to recover from her illness.
    Just over two years later, on 31 March 1890, while his wife was recuperating in Wales, Dr John Williams moved again, this time to 63 Brook Street, also in London’s West End. It was an old house, somewhat dilapidated and, judging by the building tradesmen’s quotes that appear in his private papers, it needed substantial renovation. It seemed to us that his intention was to leave behind the ghosts of Queen Anne Street, with all the bad memories that the house held, and start afresh elsewhere – it would be a new start for Lizzie also when she was well enough to return. At this time, Dr Williams was highly regarded in his profession, numbering royalty and the top echelons of society among his patients. He must have envisaged a private practice lasting for many years into the future, which was why he sanctioned the expensive repairs to his new home, from where he also ran his surgery.
    In 1894, and in gratitude for the years of service that Dr John Williams had devoted to the Royal family, he was elevated to the ranks of the nobility when he was awarded a baronetcy by Queen Victoria so that he became a Sir, and Lizzie took the courtesy title of Lady Williams. She was now entitled perhaps to enjoy the privilege of being hanged with a silk rope.
    My father and I believe that by the early 1890s Lizzie Williams had recovered sufficiently from her breakdown to return to London from time to time, and during these visits Dr Williams made every effort to integrate her back into their everyday life, renew old friendships and meet with acquaintances. It appears that their lives may have returned to what they might have regarded as normal – at least for a while.
    But early in 1903, Sir John Williams, as he now was, suddenly abandoned his lucrative private practice, and left London for rural Wales, never to practice medicine again. His life thereafter took an entirely different course. It provokes the question: why, and what was it that happened which caused him to change his plans so radically?
    The answer might be found in a strange letter discovered by Tony Williams. It had been written by Sir John Williams just twenty-six months earlier, and sent to one of his patients, Mrs Margot Asquith. She was the wife of the future Liberal Prime Minister, Herbert Asquith, whose