1.0 INTRODUCTION
In December 1922, London was enthralled by a sensational murder trial at the Old Bailey. The 28-year-old woman at the centre of the scandal, Edith Thompson, was widely portrayed in the media as a âdangerous fantasistâ who was so addicted to melodrama that she would ârisk everythingâ to live out her dreams.1 Thompson came to notoriety when her lover, 20-year-old Freddy Bywaters, a merchant seaman who was frequently away at sea, murdered her husband, Percy, when the couple were returning home from the theatre late one evening. When 62 of her letters were found on his ship, he confessed, but insisted that she had no part in the crime. In her letters, she complained about her husband and said she refused to âgiv[e] him what he wantedâ.2 She claimed that she put âsomething into Percyâs teaâ and put âbig piecesâ of light bulb in his porridge, and there were ambiguous passages about âtaking risksâ and their future together.3 She discussed popular romance novels, and enclosed newspaper clippings, some of which were about poisoning cases and mysterious deaths. On this slender evidence, the Crown charged the pair with murder, alleging that Thompson âaided and abettedâ the crime, either through incitement or conspiracy.4 The letters were enough to implicate her, but they contained many obscure passages and were open to a range of interpretations. They would prove, over time, to be highly controversial as evidence but aesthetically productive, providing the basis for novels, plays, and films. At the end of a five-day trial, the jury returned a guilty verdict, and Bywaters and Thompson were sentenced to death. Despite an extensive newspaper petition to reprieve Bywaters, and the publicâs qualms about executing a woman, the couple were hanged less than a month after the verdict. Edith Thompson was the first woman to be executed in Britain in fifteen years, shocking a public that mistakenly believed that the hanging of women was a thing of the past, unfitting in a modern society.
The melodramatic style and intimate details of Thompsonâs letters â with their expressions of psychic pain, longing, desire, and the titillating details of private lives â tantalised the public and the media. Even before the trial, Reynoldâs Illustrated News inflamed public interest in the case, claiming that âit is doubtful if more astounding letters have ever been read in a court of summary jurisdiction ⊠deep, mystifying, wild and passionate, these missives ⊠formed perhaps the most remarkable contribution to a mystery murder in the annals of crimeâ.5 During the trial all of the London papers â even the stalwart Times â published daily reports, with headlines announcing âMrs. Thompsonâs Passionate Lettersâ; âYearning Cries for Love and Freedomâ; and âThe Disclosure of a Pactâ.6 Newspapers reported on the crowds, including âfashionably dressed women [who] fight for placesâ in the courtroom.7 At the end of the case for the prosecution, 29 of Thompsonâs letters and three of Bywatersâs were read in court, and lengthy extracts were published in the newspapers. Shortly after Thompson was hanged, the Sunday Express published, over successive weeks, 33 of her letters that had not been entered into evidence, together with a ânew interpretationâ of the case by newspaper editor James Douglas, a popular criminologist and leading commentator on the trial.8 Inviting the pleasures of gossip, speculation, voyeurism, and judgment, the public circulation of Thompsonâs letters was vital to producing the emotional intensity and affect that surrounded the case. In 1923, the trial record, together with an appendix containing all of Thompsonâs and Bywatersâs extant letters, was published in the Notable British Trials series â thereby cementing the cultural notoriety of the trial, and making the letters readily available for posterity. In this article, I take this text â The Trial of Frederick Bywaters and Edith Thompson â as the basis for my analysis of Thompsonâs letters and the trial.9
The narrative structure and iconography of the Anglo-American jury trial â with its competing theories, examination of the evidence, closing speeches, and climatic verdict â has, as Carol Clover argues, been âfantastically generativeâ in popular culture.10 In addition, the Bywaters and Thompson trial has produced a rare thing: an intimate epistolary archive by a lower-middle-class woman, in a distinctive personal voice. This archive, together with the case as a whole, has provided the basis for numerous fictional retellings and stagings, both sympathetic and hostile to Thompson. Early novels include EM Delafieldâs Messalina of the Suburbs (1923) and Dorothy Sayers The Documents in the Case (1935).11 Fryn Tennyson Jesseâs A Pin to See the Peepshow (1934) remains the classic novel of the case.12 More recently, Thompsonâs letters have inspired Jill Dawsonâs novel, Fred and Edie (2000), and PD James features the case in The Murder Room (2004).13
The case has also generated a significant body of popular, legal, and scholarly commentary and analysis.14 Much of it has focused on the meaning of the letters and establishing the âtruthâ about Thompsonâs guilt; while many regard the verdict against her as a miscarriage of justice, opinion is divided. William Twining has used the case to demonstrate the value of a microscopic analysis of evidence â âmodified Wigmorean analysisâ â which he compares to the historical biography approach taken by RenĂ© Weis, Thompsonâs biographer.15 Recent work by cultural historians has produced fruitful new approaches. Drawing on a range of newspaper archives, Lucy Bland considers the case, and particularly the figure of Edith Thompson, in the fraught terrain of gendered and sexual mores in post-war Britain. She compellingly argues that Thompsonâs sexual agency was threatening to social norms, and that she represented the âdanger of the postwar sexual modern womanâ.16 In a timely and innovative analysis, Matt Houlbrook draws on Thompsonâs letters to explore her âself-fashioningâ as it develops in response to her engagement with popular fiction, as a means of reconfiguring debates about readers, escapism, and popular culture in the interwar period.17 While my analysis builds on this rich body of work, my aim is to re-examine the evidentiary and affective dimensions of Thompsonâs letters in the context of the âaffective turnâ and the legitimation of emotion as a field of critical inquiry in law and the humanities.18 The trial and its media representation invite such analysis.
2.0 AFFECTING EVIDENCE
In criminal trials, the jury is meant to âfind factsâ based on the evidence, and the judge is meant to interpret the law. While the fact/law distinction is widely recognised, Paul Gewirtz argues that criminal trials are governed by an unarticulated inside/outside binary: âLaw is all about human life, yet struggles to keep life at bay.â19 The process of proof, underpinned by rules of procedure, jurisdiction, and evidence, is central to lawâs attempt to maintain a boundary between reason and passion, the courtroom and everyday life.20 In the Bywaters and Thompson trial, the admission of love letters into evidence was a powerful vehicle through which the passions and complexities of ordinary life entered into the patriarchal space of the courtroom, and challenged the tightly policed boundaries between inside and outside, public and private, emotion and reason, truth and fiction. In his 1923 introduction to the case, Filson Young described Thompsonâs correspondence as âthe most remarkable letters that have been made public in modern timesâ.21 Contesting the judgeâs claim that the case was âcommonâ, he argued that the letters lift the case out of âthe commonplaceâ because they enable readers âto trace back ⊠[Freddyâs] emotional history and be aware of the emotional force that ultimately swept him away on its tideâ.22 Young contends, however, that the defendants came to grief because the old are sceptical...