some of the more obvious questions; there were at least a dozen others, and we wanted to find the answers to them all. So we decided to re-examine the crimes, to see what evidence we might find to support our theory that the Whitechapel murders were committed not just by a woman, but by the wife of a world-renowned medical specialist, a professor and a physician to Royalty.
First, we would have to look again into the backgrounds of John and Lizzie Williams, and this time even more thoroughly. Now, we conducted our research on the assumption that Lizzie Williams would one day be driven to commit murder. We wondered if perhaps we might find a clue somewhere in her past that would unlock the mystery, and provide us with an explanation as to why a respectable upper-middle-class, middle-aged Victorian housewife might have turned into a brutal serial killer.
It was probably the winning combination of driving ambition, ruthless determination and exceptional good fortune that, by the mid-1850s, had made Richard Hughes, a maltster (beer-maker) from Llanbrynmair in the old Welsh county of Montgomeryshire (now part of Powys), one of the richest men in the country; by today’s standards he would have been a multi-millionaire. Hughes, one of eight children of farming stock, was born on 12 February 1817. At the height of his success he lived with his family and their four servants in a large imposing mansion, a few miles north of Swansea, just off the Brecon road near the small village of Ynystawe. Nothing now remains of this once grand house that overlooked the thriving industrial valley below, save for a pair of ornate gate-posts at the start of a long winding drive, and the circular stone base of what might once have been a statue standing on the front lawn. At a time when the average income per head of the population in Britain was less than £1 a week and the welfare state did not yet exist, poverty and starvation were commonplace. At this time, Morriston, a thriving industrial town, was the centre of British tinplate production, and many fortunes were made there. But for a labourer, the work was hard, the days were long and the pay abysmally poor; often as little as two shillings might be paid for an exhausting twelve-hour shift. In these hard times, women and children frequently had to beg or prostitute themselves in order to survive.
By contrast, Richard Hughes had money to burn. He hadn’t been born into money; he had sought it out deliberately. Opportunity came his way in the shapely form of Anne Thomas, daughter to the owner of The Lan public house near Morriston. It stood at the corner of Clasemont Road and Vicarage Road, where Hughes worked brewing beer from 1839 to 1849. Anne, born in 1827, was ten years his junior. She was the sister of William Thomas of Lan Manor (1816-1909), affectionately known as Thomas O’Lan – Justice of the Peace, entrepreneur and twice Lord Mayor of Swansea (1877/78 and 1878/79). Despite what was a considerable disparity in their ages, Hughes married his employer’s daughter on 1 May 1845.
Such a well-timed stroke of calculated good fortune brought Richard Hughes into the folds of the Thomas family business. He soon abandoned the beer trade to become a partner and director in the Landore Tinplate Works (established in 1851), situated between Swansea and Morriston in the Lower Swansea Valley. This huge enterprise on the banks of the river Tawe – which, at its peak employed over a thousand men, women and children – was the largest, and most innovative, tinplate works in the world, with the first mills ever to be driven by steam.
Mary Elizabeth Ann, Lizzie , was born to Richard and Anne Hughes on 7 February 1850, almost five years after their marriage. She was the adorable child they had hoped for, with a perfectly round face, coal-black hair and dark brown eyes. She was named Mary after her father’s sister who had died, unmarried, on 11 February 1842 – almost exactly eight years
First, we would have to look again into the backgrounds of John and Lizzie Williams, and this time even more thoroughly. Now, we conducted our research on the assumption that Lizzie Williams would one day be driven to commit murder. We wondered if perhaps we might find a clue somewhere in her past that would unlock the mystery, and provide us with an explanation as to why a respectable upper-middle-class, middle-aged Victorian housewife might have turned into a brutal serial killer.
It was probably the winning combination of driving ambition, ruthless determination and exceptional good fortune that, by the mid-1850s, had made Richard Hughes, a maltster (beer-maker) from Llanbrynmair in the old Welsh county of Montgomeryshire (now part of Powys), one of the richest men in the country; by today’s standards he would have been a multi-millionaire. Hughes, one of eight children of farming stock, was born on 12 February 1817. At the height of his success he lived with his family and their four servants in a large imposing mansion, a few miles north of Swansea, just off the Brecon road near the small village of Ynystawe. Nothing now remains of this once grand house that overlooked the thriving industrial valley below, save for a pair of ornate gate-posts at the start of a long winding drive, and the circular stone base of what might once have been a statue standing on the front lawn. At a time when the average income per head of the population in Britain was less than £1 a week and the welfare state did not yet exist, poverty and starvation were commonplace. At this time, Morriston, a thriving industrial town, was the centre of British tinplate production, and many fortunes were made there. But for a labourer, the work was hard, the days were long and the pay abysmally poor; often as little as two shillings might be paid for an exhausting twelve-hour shift. In these hard times, women and children frequently had to beg or prostitute themselves in order to survive.
By contrast, Richard Hughes had money to burn. He hadn’t been born into money; he had sought it out deliberately. Opportunity came his way in the shapely form of Anne Thomas, daughter to the owner of The Lan public house near Morriston. It stood at the corner of Clasemont Road and Vicarage Road, where Hughes worked brewing beer from 1839 to 1849. Anne, born in 1827, was ten years his junior. She was the sister of William Thomas of Lan Manor (1816-1909), affectionately known as Thomas O’Lan – Justice of the Peace, entrepreneur and twice Lord Mayor of Swansea (1877/78 and 1878/79). Despite what was a considerable disparity in their ages, Hughes married his employer’s daughter on 1 May 1845.
Such a well-timed stroke of calculated good fortune brought Richard Hughes into the folds of the Thomas family business. He soon abandoned the beer trade to become a partner and director in the Landore Tinplate Works (established in 1851), situated between Swansea and Morriston in the Lower Swansea Valley. This huge enterprise on the banks of the river Tawe – which, at its peak employed over a thousand men, women and children – was the largest, and most innovative, tinplate works in the world, with the first mills ever to be driven by steam.
Mary Elizabeth Ann, Lizzie , was born to Richard and Anne Hughes on 7 February 1850, almost five years after their marriage. She was the adorable child they had hoped for, with a perfectly round face, coal-black hair and dark brown eyes. She was named Mary after her father’s sister who had died, unmarried, on 11 February 1842 – almost exactly eight years
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