In presenting her case in her book as well as on television, Cornwell says that she took a forensic approach, observing that previous Ripper identifications were “based on theories, not evidence” (Ripper 2002). Actually, Cornwell did employ forensic techniques such as DNA testing and watermark identification. Unfortunately, the results were far less meaningful than some people believe, and the procedures were flawed by being predicated on intuition and pseudoscience.
Cornwell believes that the hundreds of letters supposedly written by Jack the Ripper were not mostly hoaxes, as Ripperologists generally conclude. She states: “It is obvious that the actual Ripper wrote far more of the Ripper letters than he has ever been credited with. In fact, I believe he wrote most of them. In fact, Walter Sickert wrote most of them.” She also states, “I have no doubt that Sickert had an amazing ability to write in many different hands” (Cornwell 2002, 14, 181). She repeatedly states what she believes—not what she can prove.
Cornwell states, “Using chemicals and highly sensitive instruments to analyze inks, paints, and paper is scientific,” but “handwriting comparison is not. It is an investigative tool that can be powerful and convincing, especially in detecting forgeries. But,” she continues, “if a suspect is adept in disguis- ing his handwriting, comparison can be frustrating or impossible” (Cornwell 2002, 167). Certainly, handwriting comparison is not an exact science, but it is more scientific than Cornwell seems to think, and qualified document exam- iners have made serious studies of the traits of natural, imitated, and disguised handwriting; they can often demonstrate individual identifying characteristics
even in disguised handwriting and hand printing (O’Hara 1973; Nickell 1996). As one expert notes, “the task of maintaining an effective disguise grows more difficult with each additional word” (Hilton 1982, 169).
Even so, the problem with Cornwell is not her skepticism of handwrit- ing evidence; it is the fact that, having dismissed the opinions of professional handwriting experts, she feels free to replace them with the findings of a “let- terer,” which she defines as someone “who designs and draws lettering”—in other words, a calligrapher or graphic artist. When Cornwell’s letterer perused the so-called Ripper letters, she “connected” a number of them, says Cornwell, “through quirks and how the hand made the writing.” She states, “These same quirks and hand positions lurk in Sickert’s erratic handwriting as well” (Cornwell 2002, 14, 181).
In addition to the letterer, Cornwell (2002, 187–88) states, “It has required intellectual sleuths such as these [an art historian, paper experts, and an archi- vist] to discover that many of the Ripper letters contain telltale signs of Sickert’s handwriting.” Oh really? Do any of these opiners know that distinct similari- ties between two writings may be nothing more than class characteristics (i.e., those common to the same writing system)? Mistaking these for individual characteristics is, according to a distinguished expert, “the most common error of the unqualified examiner” (Hilton 1982, 209).
There is more. Cornwell, playing linguist, also links many of the Ripper let- ters together and connects them to Sickert through certain words and phrases. This seems particularly ludicrous, since many of the phrases—including “ha ha,” “catch me,” “little games,” and others—were in an early “Jack the Ripper” letter and postcard (believed to be journalistic hoaxes, as mentioned earlier). Facsimiles of these were pictured on a Metropolitan Police flyer and reproduced and quoted in newspapers (Evans and Skinner 2001, 29–44). It seems quite probable that copycat hoaxers—at least three of whom were actually caught (Evans and Skinner 2001, 72–80)—were prompted to imitate those communi- cations. What is the connection to Sickert? Cornwell points out that the artist James McNeill Whistler, for whom Sickert had apprenticed, was fond of using the word games and of cackling, “ha! ha!” Need more proof ? Both Sickert and some of the Ripper letters used the word fools (Cornwell 2002, 54–58).
J A C K T H E R I P P E R — I D E N T I F I E D ?
“show the skilled hand of a highly trained or professional artist,” she adds: “More than a dozen include phallic drawings of knives—all long, dagger- like instruments—except for two strange, short truncated blades in brazenly taunting letters.” Apparently, the “short” phallic blades are cited to evoke the “partial amputation” of Sickert’s penis that she has fantasized (Cornwell 2002, 65–66). As to the “professional” nature of the drawings, one is more so than Cornwell realizes. Reproduced in Portrait of a Killer, it depicts the head of a rough-looking fellow, with surrounding text stating: “This is my Photo of Jack the Ripper. 10 more and up goes the Sponge. Sig [i.e., signed] Jack the Ripper.” Cornwell thinks the illustration is a drawing, but a color photograph (Evans and Skinner 2001, xii) shows that whereas the script is brownish, like most aged writing ink of the period, the image is jet black, like printing ink. More significantly, whereas the writing has the line quality of a “dip” pen, the image does not; instead, it exhibits characteristics of a common wood engraving (a variety of woodcut), with its graver-scooped lines and “negative” crosshatching (Gascoigne 1986). Since wood engravings were used in newspapers during the Ripper period, this could be evidence of a simple and obvious hoax, and pos- sibly a journalistic one as well.
Cornwell tries to boost the evidence from the letters by matching water- marks in the paper. Much effort was expended in determining that some of the Ripper letters and some of Sickert’s bore “A Pirie & Sons” and “Joynson Superfine” watermarks. Sums up a critic, the situation is “roughly analogous to what we would have faced in 1977 if one of David Berkowitz’s famous ‘Son of Sam’ letters to Jimmy Breslin had been written on a Hallmark card” (Carr 2002). Here, Cornwell’s reportage is not always accurate. For instance, in a photo caption she states that a certain Ripper letter has a watermark that matches one on a letter Sickert wrote to Whistler, but in fact, a close look at the photographs shows that they are merely from the same company (A. Pirie & Sons). They are date watermarks, with the Sickert letter showing an “86” and the Ripper letter an “87.”