Crime Immemorial

John Gill, born in 1881 to Thomas and Mary Ann Gill, was a beloved child living at 41 Thorncliffe Road in the Manningham district of Bradford, West Yorkshire, England. Described as a “bright little fellow and a general favorite,” John was known for his cheerful disposition and popularity among his peers. He often accompanied local milkman William Barrett on his delivery rounds, earning a penny or two for his help. On the morning of Thursday, December 27th, 1888, seven-year-old John left home to join Barrett, as he had done many times before, unaware that this would be his final journey.

According to Barrett, John left him before the last delivery stop, as he was just a few hundred yards from home. However, John was last seen alive around eight-thirty a.m., playing with other boys on an ice slide at the top of his road. When he failed to return home, his parents, neighbors, and the police launched a frantic search that spanned Thursday and Friday. Despite their efforts, no trace of the boy was found until the morning of December 29th.

On that fateful Saturday, Joseph Bucke, a fifteen-year-old butcher’s apprentice, was tending to his employer’s stable off Back Mellor Street, just sixty yards from the Gill residence. While clearing manure, Bucke noticed a bundle in a corner near the coach-house door. Upon closer inspection, he was horrified to discover the mutilated body of John Gill. The boy’s throat had been cut, his abdomen slashed open, and his arms and legs hacked off. His intestines were drawn out, his heart was torn from his chest and hung around his throat, and one ear was missing. The remains were wrapped in a coarse cover, tied together to resemble a large parcel, and placed in a dark recess.

Bucke, overcome with horror, fled the scene, reportedly shouting, “Jack the Ripper’s been!” The gruesome condition of the body, coupled with the proximity to the Gill family home, fueled immediate comparisons to the Whitechapel murders, which had terrorized London just weeks earlier. The Hull Daily Mail noted on December 31st, 1888, that the crime “in some respects surpasses in its terrible character the murders in Whitechapel,” highlighting the extreme savagery of the act.

By noon on December 29th, the police arrested William Barrett, the twenty-three-year-old milkman who was the last person known to have seen John alive. Barrett, a newly married man with a young child, was described as having a gentle and agreeable disposition, which made his arrest controversial among those who knew him. However, several factors pointed to him as a suspect. Witnesses claimed John was seen with Barrett after the milkman said the boy had left him, and Barrett had no alibi for a nearly hour-long period on Thursday night. Additionally, the stable where the body was found was under Barrett’s charge, and police noted that the floor appeared to have been recently rinsed with water, suggesting an attempt to clean the scene.

Further suspicion arose from the contents of John’s stomach, which revealed traces of a cold medication, possibly used to sedate him before the murder. A currant cake found at Barrett’s home was also linked to currants found during the autopsy, though this evidence was circumstantial. Despite these findings, forensic analysis by local chemist Felix Marsh Rimmington found no blood on Barrett’s knife or clothing, weakening the case against him.

Barrett faced magistrates at Bradford Police Court from January 9th, 1889. The community was deeply divided, with some believing him guilty and others staunchly defending his character. On January 11th, the magistrates, led by Mr. Armitage, concluded that there was insufficient evidence to establish a prima facie case, and Barrett was discharged to loud applause in the courtroom. He was later celebrated in his native village of Cononley, where residents feted him as an innocent man.

The timing and brutality of John Gill’s murder led to widespread speculation that Jack the Ripper, whose last confirmed victim, Mary Kelly, was killed on November 9th, 1888, had traveled to Bradford. The similarities in the mutilation—particularly the disembowelment and removal of organs—prompted comparisons to the Whitechapel murders. Dr. Phillips, a divisional surgeon from Whitechapel, was summoned to Bradford at the request of Chief Constable James Withers to examine the body. However, he concluded that the murder was not the work of the Ripper, citing differences in victimology and methodology.

A peculiar incident added fuel to the Ripper theory. On the evening of December 27th, a tailor named Mr. Cahill returned to his home at 324 Heaton Road, near the murder site, to find it in disarray. Furniture was overturned, and two carving knives were placed crosswise on a table, accompanied by a card bearing the chilling message: “Half-past 9 – look out – Jack the Ripper has been.” The reverse side read, “I have removed down to the canal side. Yours truly, SUICIDE.” The police dismissed this as a practical joke, but its proximity to the murder and the specific mention of the Ripper raised questions about a possible connection.

Some modern researchers, including Patricia Cornwell, have explored links between the Gill murder and the Ripper case, though no definitive evidence supports this theory. Another suspect, Walter Lewis Turner, who was later convicted of murdering a young girl in Horsforth, Leeds, in 1891, was living in Shipley, near Bradford, in 1888. However, no concrete evidence ties him to John’s death. The differing victimology—a young boy versus the Ripper’s adult female victims—further complicates the theory, though some argue the killer may have been inspired by the Whitechapel murders.

Despite extensive investigations, no one was ever convicted of John Gill’s murder. Theories range from Barrett’s potential involvement to an unknown opportunist or a copycat inspired by the Whitechapel murders. The strange note found at Heaton Road and the presence of cold medication in John’s system suggest a calculated act, but the killer’s identity remains elusive.

The murder of John Gill continues to fascinate historians and true crime enthusiasts. It has been the subject of books, such as Kathryn McMaster’s Who Killed Little Johnny Gill?, and recreations, including trial reenactments by the Bradford Police Museum.