Penning Poison: A history of anonymous letters

by Emily Cockayne

Accusatory, libellous, or just bizarre, Penning Poison unveils the history of anonymous letter-writing.

'er at number 14 is dirty

Receiving an unexpected and unsigned note is a disconcerting experience. In Penning Poison, Emily Cockayne traces the stories of such letters to all corners of English society over the period 1760-1939. She uncovers scandal, deception, class enmity, personal tragedy, and great loneliness. Some messages were accusatory, some libellous, others bizarre. Technology, new postal networks, forensic techniques, and the emergence of professional police all influence the phenomenon of poison
letter campaigns. This book puts the letters back into their local and psychology context, extending the work of detectives, to discover who may have written them and why.

Emily Cockayne explores the reasons and motivations for the creation and delivery of these missives and the effect on recipients - with some blasé, others driven to madness. Small communities hit by letter campaigns became places of suspicion and paranoia. By examining the ways in which these letters spread anxiety in the past Penning Poison grapples with the question of how nasty messages can turn into an epidemic. The book recovers many lost stories about how we used to write
to one another, finding that perhaps the anxieties of our internet age are not as new as we think.

Genres: Nonfiction, History

315 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 2023

Reviews

[Felicity · Rating 4 out of 5]

My interest in the phenomenon of 'poison pen' letters was first aroused by Christopher Hilliard's lively investigation of a protracted campaign of vilification in the so-called Littlehampton Libels. Emily Cockayne has now added to the literature of libel with this absorbing account of anonymous and pseudonymous letters from diverse sources and locations in nineteenth- and early twentieth-century Britain, anticipating the twenty-first-century victimisation and hate campaigns conducted on social media. In some historic cases, the authors are easily identified and classified; in others, Cockayne has made constructive use of graphological and psychological evidence to deduce the motives of the presumptive author of the variously libellous, scurrilous, vengeful, jealous or resentful letters. Many of the letters are semiliterate, but the feigned illiteracy of others is betrayed by inconsistencies of expression, punctuation, penmanship and paper. The practice was not demographically or orthographically determined, but the introduction of the penny post evidently enabled working-class correspondents, both male and female, to engage in the activity affordably and anonymously. Cockayne observes, however, that where the writers were discovered and prosecuted, lower-class culprits were more harshly treated, receiving punitive sentences of imprisonment with hard labour. For middle-class offenders, especially respectable women, sending abusive or obscene letters was so obviously ‘out of character’ that the behaviour was more often seen as an aberration committed in a moment of madness. The punishment was designed to fit the criminal, not the crime. Sad girls seemingly aroused more sympathy than disreputable girls; they still do.

In her introduction, Cockayne remarks that if you have never received any poison pen letters the bewilderment you may feel on reading those she transcribes will most likely mirror the experience of the original recipient. As it happens, I have never received an anonymous missive, but I confess to having written a pseudonymous one to the class teacher. In my defence, I plead the callowness of youth: I was seven years old at the time. By impugning the teacher’s competence, my intention was to incriminate the class bully whose signature I forged. When rumbled, I was ordered to apologise not to the boy whose name I had taken in vain but to the teacher ‘who had taught me everything I knew’. It was my first lesson in social stratification.

Of the diverse means and motives for sending libellous or merely vindictive letters, each chapter in Penning Poison features a headline offender, an individual or a class action, all missing the authorising signature. Many similar instances are cited in support of Cockayne’s argument. My sole objection is that the abundance of cases for comparison can confuse the reader, particularly in further references to earlier offenders. Like the offences, their names are legion.

[Kay]

Despite the sensational title, this book is very dry and academic, dealing in minute detail with British anonymous letters during the period between 1760 and 1939. In particular, it examines how these letters could disclose social tensions, views on morality and decorum, and changes in society. I have read many academic works with interest and without difficulty, but the many cases cited make this work episodic and rather muddied. My interest in the subject is not sufficient to continue.

[Karen · Rating 4 out of 5]

This very entertaining book has inevitable gaps, as the author readily admits. Many, probably most, anonymous letters haven't been preserved, and were never reported or acted upon. Nonetheless, Cockayne is able to make important corrections to the current assumptions (most anonymous letter writers are NOT apparently women; whose who are women are NOT mostly middle-aged spinsters, the most well-regarded previous study deliberately focused on letters that reveal class struggle--an important topic but not by any means the only ones, to name a few). Cockayne also puts possible motives for writing into larger contexts of race, gender, and, of course class, not to mention romance or rejected romance.

[Rachel · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Penning Poison: A History of Anonymous Letters" by Emily Cockayne offers a thorough exploration of the long history of anonymous correspondence. The book delves into various eras and contexts, revealing how people have used unsigned letters to express grievances, spread rumors, and incite fear. Cockayne's detailed research dispels the notion that hatemail is a modern phenomenon born of the internet, showing that anonymous vitriol has been a part of human communication for centuries. The book is an enlightening read for anyone interested in the darker side of written communication.

[MaKai Magie · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was a surprise. It was a good study about the types of poison pen letters and focused mostly between the 1800 and early 1900’s. It had a lot of insight into the different treatment of women and men involved in this type of crime and the fallout caused by it. It also shed some light into the anonymous texts we see today.

[Maryka Biaggio · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fascinating account and analysis of anonymous letters written in the United Kingdom before the invention of the modern post and the internet.

[Donna · Rating 4 out of 5]

A great reference for mystery writers

[Kate · Rating 1 out of 5]

DNF page 45

[Sharon L. Sherman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Read hardcover copy.

[Kate · Rating 4 out of 5]

For my full review click on the link below:
https://crossexaminingcrime.wordpress...

[Catherine · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is an interesting, well-considered and well researched study. My only caveat is that it seems to have been cut down from a longer draft so some of the cases discussed are a bit less clearly described than they were intended to be. The book raises some questions about the ways in which the "poison pen" letter shifted in media and police perception from the political to the private sphere in the early 20th c.