Hubbry Logo
Dear Boss letterDear Boss letterMain
Open search
Dear Boss letter
Community hub
Dear Boss letter
logo
8 pages, 0 posts
0 subscribers
Be the first to start a discussion here.
Be the first to start a discussion here.
Dear Boss letter
Dear Boss letter
from Wikipedia
The envelope addressed to the Central News Agency containing the "Dear Boss" letter

The "Dear Boss" letter was a message allegedly written by the notorious unidentified Victorian serial killer known as Jack the Ripper. Addressed to the Central News Agency of London and dated 25 September 1888, the letter was postmarked and received by the Central News Agency on 27 September. The letter itself was forwarded to Scotland Yard on 29 September.[1]

Although many dispute its authenticity,[2] the "Dear Boss" letter is regarded as the first piece of correspondence signed by one Jack the Ripper, ultimately resulting in the unidentified killer being known by this name.[3]

Content

[edit]

The "Dear Boss" letter was written in red ink, was two pages long and contains several spelling and punctuation errors. The overall motivation of the author was evidently to mock investigative efforts and to allude to future murders.[4] The letter itself reads:

Dear Boss,

I keep on hearing the police have caught me but they wont fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being on the right track. That joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits. I am down on whores and I shant quit ripping them till I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games. I saved some of the proper red stuff in a ginger beer bottle over the last job to write with but it went thick like glue and I cant use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope ha. ha. The next job I do I shall clip the ladys ears off and send to the police officers just for jolly wouldn't you. Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work, then give it out straight. My knife's so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance. Good Luck.
Yours truly
Jack the Ripper

Dont mind me giving the trade name

PS Wasnt good enough to post this before I got all the red ink off my hands curse it. No luck yet. They say I'm a doctor now. ha ha[5]

The first page of the "Dear Boss" letter, dated 25 September 1888
The second page of the "Dear Boss" letter

Media publication

[edit]

Initially, the letter was considered to be just one of many hoax letters purporting to be from the murderer.[6] However, following the discovery of the body of Catherine Eddowes in Mitre Square on 30 September, investigators noted a section of the auricle and earlobe of her right ear had been severed,[7] giving credence to the author's promise within the letter to "clip the lady's ears off". In response, the Metropolitan Police published numerous handbills containing duplicates of both this letter and the "Saucy Jacky" postcard in the hope that a member of the public would recognise the handwriting of the author.[n 1] Numerous local and national newspapers also reprinted the text of the "Dear Boss" letter in whole or in part. These efforts failed to generate any significant leads.[10]

Perpetrator pseudonym

[edit]

Following the publication of the "Dear Boss" letter and the "Saucy Jacky" postcard, both forms of correspondence gained worldwide notoriety. These publications were the first occasion in which the name "Jack the Ripper" had been used to refer to the killer. The term captured the imagination of the public. In the weeks following their publication, hundreds of hoax letters claiming to be from "Jack the Ripper" were received by police and press alike, most of which copied key phrases from these letters.[3]

Authenticity

[edit]

In the years following the Ripper murders, police officials stated that they believed both the "Dear Boss" letter and the "Saucy Jacky" postcard were elaborate hoaxes most likely penned by a local journalist.[n 2] Initially, these suspicions received little publicity, with the public believing the press articles that the unknown murderer had sent numerous messages taunting the police and threatening further murders. This correspondence became one of the enduring legends of the Ripper case. However, the opinions of modern scholars are divided upon which, if any, of the letters should be considered genuine. The "Dear Boss" letter is one of three named most frequently as potentially having been written by the killer, and a number of authors have tried to advance their theories as to the Ripper's identity by comparing handwriting samples of suspects to the writing within the "Dear Boss" letter.[3]

Like many documents related to the Ripper case, the "Dear Boss" letter disappeared from the police files shortly after the investigation into the murders had ended.[12] The letter may have been kept as a souvenir by one of the investigating officers. In November 1987, the letter was returned anonymously to the Metropolitan Police, whereupon Scotland Yard recalled all documents relating to the Whitechapel Murders from the Public Record Office, now The National Archives, at Kew.[13]

Journalist's confession

[edit]

In 1931, a journalist named Fred Best was reported to have confessed that he and a colleague at The Star newspaper named Tom Bullen[14] had written the "Dear Boss" letter, the "Saucy Jacky" postcard, and other hoax messages purporting to be from the Whitechapel Murderer—whom they together had chosen to name Jack the Ripper—in order to maintain acute public interest in the case and generally maintain high sales of their publication.[15][n 3]

Calligraphy and linguistic analysis

[edit]

In 2018, a forensic linguist based at the University of Manchester named Andrea Nini stated his conviction that both the "Dear Boss" letter and the "Saucy Jacky" postcard had been written by the same individual.[9] Commenting upon his conclusions, Dr Nini stated: "My conclusion is that there is very strong linguistic evidence that these two [pieces of correspondence] were written by the same person. People in the past had already expressed this tentative conclusion, on the basis of similarity of handwriting, but this had not been established with certainty."[17]

Notes

[edit]

References

[edit]

Cited works and further reading

[edit]
[edit]
Revisions and contributorsEdit on WikipediaRead on Wikipedia
from Grokipedia
The Dear Boss letter is an anonymous communication received by London's Central News Agency on 27 September 1888, purportedly written by the unidentified responsible for the , and it introduced the famous pseudonym "." Postmarked 27 September 1888 and penned in red ink, the letter taunted for failing to capture the author, claimed responsibility for recent killings of prostitutes in London's East End, and threatened further violence, including a graphic promise to sever a victim's ears as a "jolly" gesture to the police. Its full text reads:
Dear Boss,
I keep on hearing have caught me but they wont fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being . That joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits. I am down on whores and I shant quit ripping them till I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny . I saved some of the proper red stuff in a bottle over the last job to write with but it went thick like glue and I cant use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope ha. ha. The next job I do I shall clip the ladys ears off and send to officers just for jolly wouldn't you. Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work, then give it out straight. My knife's so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance.
Good Luck.
Yours truly

Dont mind me giving the
PS Wasnt good enough to post this before I got all the red ink off my hands curse it No luck yet. They say I'm a doctor now. ha ha
The letter's arrival coincided with heightened public panic over the unsolved murders of and earlier that month, and its mocking tone—referencing the press nickname "Leather Apron" for a suspect—fueled sensational media coverage that amplified the Ripper's notoriety. Forwarded to on 29 September, it was not immediately publicized, but after the double murder of and on 30 September—where Eddowes's earlobe was partially severed—police released copies of the letter on posters across on 3 October to solicit public help in identifying the . This dissemination marked a pivotal moment in the case, transforming the killer from a shadowy figure into a celebrity persona that dominated headlines and endures in . Authenticity remains hotly debated among historians and criminologists, with most experts concluding the letter is a rather than a genuine missive from the murderer. Over 200 similar letters flooded authorities during the killings, but the Dear Boss epistle stands out as the origin of the Ripper's name and style; forensic linguistic in 2018 linked it stylistically to the " and tentatively to another early letter, suggesting fabrication by a single individual, possibly a seeking to prolong the story's shelf life. Despite theories implicating employees like Fred Best or Tom Bulling, no definitive proof has emerged, leaving the letter's true origins as enigmatic as the Ripper himself.

Historical Context

The Whitechapel Murders of 1888

The of 1888 refer to a series of brutal killings in London's East End, with five victims commonly accepted as the work of a single perpetrator known retrospectively as . These "canonical five" began with , found on August 31 in Buck's Row, , her throat slashed and abdomen mutilated with deep knife wounds. was discovered on September 8 in the backyard of 29 , her throat cut, intestines placed over her shoulder, and uterus removed, indicating possible anatomical knowledge by the assailant. The so-called "double event" occurred on September 30, when was found in Dutfield's Yard off Berner Street with her throat slit but minimal further mutilation, possibly due to interruption, followed hours later by in , whose body was extensively disemboweled, with facial incisions and missing kidney and uterus. The final canonical murder was on November 9 in her room at 13 Miller's Court, where the disfigurement was extreme, including removal of her heart and breasts, rendering her face unrecognizable. All victims were prostitutes in their forties or younger, killed at night in dimly lit, secluded spots within a one-mile radius of . Whitechapel in 1888 epitomized the squalor of Victorian London's East End, a densely overcrowded district plagued by extreme poverty and social decay. Immigrants from , , and elsewhere swelled the population to over 80,000 in a maze of slums, where families crammed into single rooms lacking , and rates exceeded 30 percent among working-class residents. was rampant as a survival mechanism for destitute women, with estimates suggesting up to 1,200 sex workers operated in alone, often resorting to streetwalking due to economic desperation and limited alternatives in an era of rigid gender roles and industrial upheaval. The area teemed with , including and , exacerbated by and poor health conditions, creating an atmosphere of fear and neglect that isolated the vulnerable. The faced formidable challenges in investigating these crimes, operating in a vast, labyrinthine with inadequate , unreliable witnesses from a transient population, and nascent forensic techniques limited to basic post-mortems without fingerprints or blood typing. Sir Charles Warren's force, stretched thin with approximately 14,000 officers covering London's sprawling metropolis of over 5 million inhabitants, struggled with jurisdictional overlaps between the and the , while public distrust of authorities fueled misinformation. Initial media coverage in newspapers like The Star and sensationalized the atrocities, dubbing the unknown killer a monstrous fiend and amplifying details of the mutilations, which sparked widespread public panic, vigilante patrols, and demands for better street and police reforms. This frenzy of press interest soon gave rise to hoax letters purportedly from the murderer.

Early Ripper Correspondence

Following the discovery of ' body on August 31, 1888, and local newspapers began receiving a surge of anonymous tips and letters related to the . These early communications included purported confessions, warnings, and leads on suspects, such as notes identifying local figures like "Leather Apron" (a nickname for suspected shoemaker John Pizer) as the killer. One notable precursor example, dated September 17, 1888, was a letter addressed to the "Boss" and received by the , in which the anonymous writer mocked police efforts and signed off with a taunting reference to future ; it was later uncovered in police archives and considered a . By mid-September 1888, after the murder of on September 8, the volume of such correspondence had escalated, with police estimating hundreds of letters claiming to originate from the perpetrator or offering investigative insights. The routinely classified the vast majority as hoaxes, often penned by opportunists seeking notoriety or simply to burden investigators amid the growing panic. Sensationalist significantly amplified this phenomenon, as outlets competed for readership by dramatizing the crimes and publicizing select letters to heighten . The Star, a prominent evening paper, exemplified this by running vivid reports on the "Whitechapel horrors" and reprinting excerpts from early anonymous missives, which inadvertently spurred further submissions from the public eager to engage with the unfolding narrative.

The Letter Itself

Receipt and Initial Handling

The Dear Boss letter, dated September 25, 1888, was received by the Central News Agency in on September 27, 1888. It featured an E.C. from the East Central postal , indicating it had been mailed locally two days prior. Written in red ink on ordinary postal paper in a bold, clerkly hand, the letter was immediately forwarded by the agency to for review amid the intensifying murder investigation. Authorities initially regarded it as a potential but treated it with sufficient seriousness to disseminate copies publicly in hopes of identifying the writer. The letter reached the Metropolitan Police on September 29, 1888, where it was assessed by investigators as part of broader efforts to trace communications related to the killings. This processing marked the letter's formal entry into the official investigation files at .

Full Text and Key Elements

The Dear Boss letter, received by the Central News Agency on September 27, 1888, and subsequently forwarded to , contains the following full transcription, preserving the original , , and formatting as documented in historical records:
Dear Boss, I keep on hearing the police have caught me but they wont fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being on the right track. That joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits. I am down on whores and I shant quit ripping them till I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games. I saved some of the proper red stuff in a ginger beer bottle over the last job to write with but it went thick like glue and I cant use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope ha. ha. The next job I do I shall clip the ladys ears off and send to the police officers just for jolly wouldn't you. Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work, then give it out straight. My knife's so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance. Good Luck. Yours truly Jack the Ripper Dont mind me giving the trade name PS Wasnt good enough to post this before I got all the red ink off my hands curse it No luck yet. They say I'm a doctor now. ha ha
This letter exemplifies a and mocking tone toward , with the author deriding police efforts as misguided and expressing delight in evading capture. It includes deliberate references to investigative misdirections, such as the "Leather Apron" suspect—a nickname for John Pizer, an early in the —and claims superiority in outwitting detectives. Stylistic features prominent in the text include phonetic errors and informal contractions, such as "wont" for "won't," "shant" for "shan't," "ladys" for "lady's," and "cant" for "can't," which contribute to a crude, uneducated . The content features explicit threats of continued violence against "whores," boasting about a recent where the victim had "no time to squeal," and outlining future plans, including mutilating ears and using as (though was substituted due to ). A adds further , mocking rumors of the killer being a doctor and complaining about stains. The letter concludes with the signature "," marking the first known use of this moniker, followed by a note excusing the "" and a separate .

Publication and Public Reaction

Media Dissemination

The Dear Boss letter was received by the Central News Agency on September 27, 1888, and forwarded to two days later, but it did not enter public awareness until the police authorized its release on , 1888, following the double murders of and the previous evening. Initially dismissed as a , the letter was not published by the agency or authorities to avoid encouraging further spurious correspondence amid the escalating panic over the killings. However, the severity of the recent crimes prompted a reversal, with the letter reproduced in newspapers such as The Star to aid in identifying the distinctive . Media outlets, recognizing the letter's provocative and boastful claims of responsibility for the murders, quickly capitalized on its sensational elements despite the prior caution. Facsimiles appeared in The Star and other dailies on , marking the first widespread exposure to the public. This decision overrode initial reservations, as the taunting content—mocking police efforts and promising more violence—proved irresistible for boosting circulation during a period of intense in the case. The letter's dissemination extended rapidly beyond initial outlets, with reprints in numerous British newspapers and international publications over the ensuing week, heightening fears in and abroad. Posters bearing the letter's text were also distributed by police outside stations on 3 October 1888 to solicit tips, further embedding it in the and exacerbating the atmosphere of terror as the murders continued unabated.

Origin of the "" Name

Prior to the emergence of the "Dear Boss" letter, the perpetrator of the was commonly known in the press and public discourse as "Leather Apron," a moniker derived from reports of a suspicious Jewish bootmaker named John Pizer who carried a leather apron and was briefly arrested as a following the killing of on August 31, 1888. This nickname, along with the more generic " Murderer," reflected early media speculation and the lack of a self-proclaimed identity from the killer, but it lacked the sensational appeal that would later define the case. The "Dear Boss" letter, received by the Central News Agency on September 27, 1888, introduced the signature "Jack the Ripper" for the first time, explicitly mocking the "Leather Apron" label within its taunting text. Although initially dismissed as a hoax by the agency and forwarded to Scotland Yard on September 29 without publication, the letter gained urgency after the double murders of Elizabeth Stride and Catherine Eddowes on September 30, leading to its release to the press around October 1, 1888. Newspapers such as the Daily News and Star swiftly incorporated the name into headlines and articles, amplifying its visibility; by October 3, Scotland Yard had circulated facsimiles of the letter to the public via postbills and further media outlets, solidifying its adoption in official police communications. The pseudonym's dramatic, alliterative flair—evoking a shadowy, knife-wielding figure—combined with relentless repetition across sensationalist reporting, quickly supplanted earlier names and embedded itself in the public imagination. Over the ensuing decades, "" evolved into the canonical moniker within Ripperology and , far outlasting transient alternatives like "Leather Apron" due to its mythic resonance and media perpetuation. By the mid-20th century, the name had become synonymous with the unidentified killer, inspiring over 100 books, numerous films such as Alfred Hitchcock's The Lodger (1927), and guided tours in London's East End that continue to draw thousands annually, transforming a historical enigma into a enduring cultural .

Authenticity and Provenance

Arguments for a Hoax

Several contextual clues have led historians to question the authenticity of the , suggesting it was a fabrication rather than a genuine communication from the murderer. The letter was postmarked on September 25, 1888, and received by the Central News Agency on September 27, three days before the double murder of and on September 30, which would have been the next killings after the letter's claim of ongoing activity. This timing implies the author lacked specific foreknowledge of future events, a common trait in opportunistic hoaxes amid the heightened public anxiety following the earlier murders. Furthermore, the letter's language exhibits a theatrical, boastful flair atypical of authentic criminal taunts, with phrases like "I love my work" and "" conveying and playfulness rather than the terse or erratic style seen in verified offender correspondence from the era. Contemporary observers, such as George Sims in an October 7, 1888, article, described it as a "gruesome wag" and "grim ," highlighting its performative tone designed to sensationalize rather than confess. Police authorities at the time expressed strong skepticism toward the letter, viewing it as a likely by to capitalize on the murders' notoriety. Sir , the Commissioner of the , wrote to the on October 10, 1888, stating, "At present I think the whole thing a but of course we are bound to try & ascertain the writer in order to clear the matter up," reflecting an official dismissal of its credibility while acknowledging the need for investigation. Initial handling by treated it as one of many spurious submissions, with officers withholding wider dissemination to avoid fueling public hysteria or media exploitation, a decision aligned with concerns over journalistic boosting sales during the panic. Warren's successor, Robert Anderson, later reinforced this view in his 1910 memoirs, asserting that the letter was a "journalist's " preserved in police files as an example of fabricated . The Dear Boss letter fits a broader pattern of proven hoaxes among the hundreds of letters received by police and press during the Ripper investigation, many sharing similar taunting and flamboyant styles. Unlike the more substantive "From Hell" letter, which included a human kidney piece, the majority of these communications—estimated at hundreds arriving in autumn alone—were dismissed as pranks by thrill-seekers or journalists, often mimicking gloating threats and pseudonyms to insert themselves into the unfolding drama. For instance, the rapid follow-up "Saucy Jacky" postcard, postmarked October 1, , echoed the Dear Boss's mocking tone and references to "work," suggesting coordinated fabrication rather than independent criminal missives. This proliferation of imitative letters, peaking after the Dear Boss's contents were leaked to , underscores how such documents contributed to a communal of horror, with hoaxers adopting consistent motifs like ear-clipping threats to sustain public fascination.

The Journalist's Confession

In 1931, Frederick Best, a retired reporter who had worked for the London evening newspaper The Star, confessed to having co-authored the "Dear Boss" letter as a hoax. At the age of 70, Best claimed during a conversation with an author that he and his colleague, Tom Bulling—a reporter from The Star's provincial office in Yeovil—wrote the letter on September 25, 1888, and sent it to the Central News Agency. Best detailed that the motivation stemmed from a slow news period following the early , with public interest waning after the killing of on September 8. He alleged that The Star's editor, , encouraged such journalistic stunts to revive coverage and boost circulation amid intense competition in the era's landscape. To lend authenticity, Best drew on his familiarity with police slang and procedures gained from covering the crimes, incorporating phrases like "ha ha" and threats of further violence to mimic a killer's taunt. Best further asserted that he and Bulling were behind all subsequent letters signed "," aiming to "keep the business alive" by sustaining the sensational narrative. Despite the specificity of Best's account, it lacks contemporary corroboration, such as records from The Star or witnesses confirming the editor's involvement. While it aligns with documented practices of hoax letters during the Ripper scare—exemplified by the flood of hundreds of false communications received by authorities—the confession has been doubted by Ripperologists due to inconsistencies, including Best's advanced age at the time and the absence of physical evidence like handwriting samples linking him directly to the original document. No retraction from Best is recorded, but modern analyses, including forensic linguistics, have neither confirmed nor fully refuted his claim, leaving it as a pivotal but contested piece of evidence in debates over the letter's provenance.

Scholarly Analyses

Handwriting and Calligraphy Studies

Journalist Fred Best's 1931 confession, in which he claimed to have authored the letter alongside a colleague to sustain public interest in the Whitechapel murders, prompted later handwriting examinations supporting the hoax theory. Post-2000 expert consultations have bolstered these findings through modern graphological review. In 2009, handwriting expert Elaine Quigley of the British Institute of Graphologists examined excerpts from the Dear Boss letter alongside authenticated samples of Fred Best's writing for historian Andrew Cook's study. Quigley concluded that the letter matches Best's hand, citing aligned proportions in letter height, spacing rhythms, and stroke dynamics that reflect formal training in composition rather than the crude, self-taught style expected from a working-class killer. Her analysis emphasized the letter's controlled elegance, incompatible with the presumed profile of an illiterate or semi-literate perpetrator, thus aligning with the hoax narrative paralleling Best's own admission.

Linguistic and Authorship Examinations

In , forensic linguist Andrea Nini of the conducted a comprehensive authorship analysis of over 200 purported letters, including the Dear Boss letter, the , and the , using quantitative linguistic methods to assess potential common authorship. The study employed based on Jaccard distance measures applied to word 2-grams and higher-order n-grams from a corpus of 209 texts totaling 17,463 word tokens, compared against 19th-century English corpora such as the Corpus of Historical American English (COHA) and the Corpus of Late Modern English Texts (CLMET3) to evaluate stylistic distinctiveness. The analysis revealed that the Dear Boss letter and clustered closely together, with a Jaccard of 0.93—well below the of approximately 1.0 across letter pairs—sharing rare linguistic features such as the 4-gram sequence "letter back till I" and the phrasal "keep back" (meaning to withhold), which occur infrequently in period texts (e.g., "work tomorrow" at 0.03–0.05 per million words). In contrast, the showed no significant similarity to these or other major letters, with distances exceeding 0.95, indicating distinct authorship. Unusual elements in the Dear Boss letter, such as the "buckled" for "arrested" and grammatical inconsistencies mimicking illiteracy (e.g., erratic like "shant" for "shan't" alongside correct forms), were inconsistent with authentic 19th-century criminal correspondence and aligned more with journalistic than genuine offender language. Nini's findings supported the for the Dear Boss and Saucy Jacky materials, suggesting fabrication by a single non-criminal author—possibly a —rather than the killer, as only about 6% of letter pairs exhibited sufficient similarity for shared authorship, pointing to widespread . Subsequent research in the has reinforced the absence of a single author across the letters, with a 2023 linguistic credibility study using Linguistic Inquiry and (LIWC) software analyzing confession-likeness, past-tense focus, and crime-related across 209 Ripper letters confirming the letter's outlier status through higher scores in truthful narrative markers, while underscoring the journalistic origins of earlier hoaxes like Dear Boss. These empirical approaches complement prior examinations by providing statistical evidence of stylistic divergence, emphasizing fabrication over perpetrator origin.

References

Add your contribution
Related Hubs
User Avatar
No comments yet.