In the autumn of 1902, London was a city of stark contrasts. Queen Victoria had died the previous year, and her son, Edward VII, now sat on the throne. Motor cars shared the streets with horse-drawn carriages, and a new fingerprint bureau had just opened at Scotland Yard. In the respectable central district of Pimlico, a young woman named Emma Byron had grown up as Kitty, the daughter of a successful brewer.

Her family’s good fortune ended with her father’s death, forcing her mother, Kitty, and her younger sister to move to the less desirable East End. Kitty found work as a milliner’s assistant at Madame Timmery’s dressmaking business in Old Burlington Street, a fine establishment near the elegant properties of Mayfair. In early 1902, Kitty met Arthur Reginald Baker, a gentleman twenty-one years her senior. Born in Crawley, Sussex, in 1857, Baker was the son of a solicitor and worked at the London Stock Exchange.

He had married Alexandrina Mabel Turner in 1880, and the couple had a daughter, but the marriage had soured and they had separated. Kitty, still only twenty-three, was taken with the sophisticated and well-educated Baker, calling him fondly “Reggie. ” They spent much of their time together, and in mid-July, Baker took a first-floor room in a house at 18 Duke Street, in the St. James’s area, owned by a French widow named Madame Adrienne Led.

A week later, Kitty arrived and introduced herself as Mrs. Baker. All went well until October, when Baker’s financial troubles began to surface and Kitty was dismissed from her employment for poor timekeeping. Madame Led agreed to let them relinquish one of their rooms, still considering the couple pleasant and respectable.

But her opinion began to change as she heard them arguing frequently. When Baker drank, which was often, he became abusive and violent. On the 4th of November 1902, Baker was served with a divorce petition from his wife, naming Kitty as co-respondent. The arguments between the couple grew louder.

By Friday, the 7th of November, the noise was so intense that Kitty appeared on the landing in her nightdress, visibly distressed. Madame Led had had enough and gave Baker notice to leave. Two days later, on Monday the 10th of November, he apologized and asked for one more week to find alternative accommodation. Madame Led agreed.

That morning, at about 11:15, Kitty came to see Madame Led, who told her of the new arrangement. Kitty seemed unconcerned and said that next week Madame Led would hear something very dreadful. When pressed, Kitty said she could only reveal it if Madame Led promised not to tell Mr. Baker, as he would be most angry.

“When he is like that, he gets violent,” she said. Madame Led promised to keep the confidence. Kitty then revealed that Baker’s wife had served divorce papers on him. At the time, divorce was uncommon, and a woman could only divorce her husband on the grounds of adultery, not abuse.

Kitty explained that she loved him despite the ill treatment. When Madame Led asked why she screamed so much, Kitty replied that she could not help it, as he strangles and beats her. She said she would go to stay with her sister while Baker remained for the final week. As she returned to her rooms, she passed the maid, Isabelle Kingitt, and told her she had revealed everything about herself and Mr.

Baker to Madame Led. Around midday, Kitty went out. The 10th of November was the day of the Lord Mayor’s Show, an annual event dating back to the thirteenth century, when a new Lord Mayor was appointed and a public parade moved through the streets of London. Kitty had no interest in the crowds.

Instead, she went to a shop at 211 Oxford Street and tried to purchase a strong-bladed spring knife. The salesman, James Moore, was surprised that a young lady would want such an item. The price was six shillings, but Kitty bargained him down to five shillings and sixpence. When he offered to wrap it, she said she would carry it on her person.

She then went to the post office on Lombard Street, where she seemed anxious as she waited. At the counter, she asked to send an express letter by post office messenger to Mr. Arthur Reginald Baker at the London Stock Exchange. The cost was three and a half pence.

The message simply read: “Dear Reggie, I want you a moment, importantly. Kitty. ”

The messenger, sixteen-year-old William Robert Coleman, was delayed by the crowds gathered for the Lord Mayor’s Show. When he arrived at the Stock Exchange, Baker was not there, and he waited fifteen minutes before returning.

Kitty was displeased and sent him out again. This time, the youth found Baker, who opened the letter and made his way to the post office, arriving around 2:30 in the afternoon. At the counter, Baker was surprised to be asked to pay two pence because the messenger had waited longer than ten minutes for him. Baker refused, insisting it was nothing to do with him and that it was the lady’s business.

Kitty hurried over. Baker was not pleased at being called away from work and angrily told her to pay the debt herself. She tried to hand him a coin, asking him to settle it, but he was not amused and put the coin in his waistcoat pocket before heading for the door. Kitty followed.

They left through the entrance onto King William Street. People entering the post office noticed the couple arguing, not loudly, but clearly disagreeing. Suddenly, Kitty pulled out the knife she had bought earlier and stabbed Baker three times. It happened so quickly that passersby were stunned.

Baker fell to the floor. Attempts were made to help, but it was soon clear he was gravely wounded. Police, who were more numerous that day because of the parade, arrived quickly. They found Kitty on the steps, restrained by a member of the public, sobbing over Baker’s body.

Through her tears she cried out, “Oh Reggie, oh Reggie, let me kiss him. ”

Baker was taken to St. Bartholomew’s Hospital nearby, but tragically, he died before arriving. Kitty was escorted to Cloak Lane Police Station.

She was no longer sobbing but appeared extremely agitated. Inspector Frederick Fox informed her that Baker was dead and that she would be charged with murder. She replied, “I killed him willingly, and he deserved it. The sooner I am killed the better.

” Later, she changed her statement, telling the inspector she had only bought the knife to hit Baker with and did not know she was killing him. Still, Emma Kitty Byron was charged with murder. Baker’s funeral took place four days later at Norwood Cemetery. His trial began at the Old Bailey on the 15th of December 1902.

The court was full, including many smartly dressed gentlemen who had worked with Baker. In fact, members of the Stock Exchange had funded Kitty’s defense. The press had been sympathetic to her, and the public’s outrage at the way Baker treated her resonated with many Londoners. Women’s societies, long fighting for a greater voice, spoke openly about her suffering, noting that in 1902, many women could not leave their husbands because they lacked financial means, and divorced women were often treated as outcasts.

In the dock, Kitty was nervous, dressed well, still an attractive young woman of twenty-four, with the eyes of the packed court upon her. Madame Led testified about how Baker had taken the room and was joined by Kitty, whom she believed to be his wife. She described how Baker would return home drunk and how she heard loud arguing, believing he was beating Kitty, though she admitted he was a perfect gentleman when sober. The maid, Isabelle Kingitt, corroborated that Kitty was a pleasant young lady and that Baker, though terrible when drunk, seemed fond of her when sober.

Clerks from the Lombard Street post office outlined the events leading to the stabbing. William Locke, a gentleman walking along King William Street at the time, testified that he heard a loud cry and saw Kitty attacking Baker. He ran to the stairs, seized her left hand, and the knife dropped to the ground. He said Kitty shouted, “Let me go, see Reggie, my dear Reggie,” but he held her until the police arrived.

The defense claimed Kitty had bought the knife only to threaten to take her own life if Baker did not stop his violent outbursts, and that she had attacked him in a fit of rage after much provocation, not as a premeditated act. The judge, however, was not persuaded. He summed up the case and made clear he saw no merit in the claim that the murder was unplanned or committed in self-defense. The jury found Emma Kitty Byron guilty of murder but added a recommendation for mercy.

Nevertheless, the judge sentenced her to death. But public sympathy only grew. A petition signed by over 15,000 people was sent to the Home Secretary, asking for the sentence to be commuted. On the 23rd of December 1902, the Home Secretary agreed, reducing the sentence to life in prison.

Kitty was sent to His Majesty’s Prison in Aylesbury, and in 1907, her sentence was reduced to ten years. She was released on the 17th of December 1908 after serving six years in prison, with the condition that she stay for a time at Lady Henry Somerset’s home for reforming females near Reigate in Surrey. Emma Kitty Byron was then released unconditionally, and after that, she disappeared from history.