The love-letters of Mr. H. & Miss R., 1775-1779

In Short

This collection functions as an 18th-century true-crime narrative and a literary study. It compiles the preserved letters between James Hackman, a clergyman, and Martha Reay, the mistress of Lord Sandwich, ending in their fatal 1779 encounter. The editor frames these documents with a detailed investigation into the suicide of the prodigy Thomas Chatterton, drawing parallels between the two men’s psychological burdens. It has endured as a morbid, fascinating primary source, capturing the raw, often incoherent intensity of obsession and the cultural appetite for sensational tragedy.

The Story

The narrative arc is defined by the inexorable slide of James Hackman into a state of total psychological ruin. Opening in 1775, the letters portray a burgeoning, secret romance between Hackman and Martha Reay. Hackman, writing from military posts and later from his clerical studies, casts himself as a man reborn through Martha’s love. Yet, from the start, the relationship is stifled by rigid social barriers and Martha’s precarious position as a woman of accomplishments living under the protection of Lord Sandwich. She is constantly anxious, warning Hackman of the "insuperable" obstacles—specifically, her crushing debts and the watchful eye of a female companion, Signora Galli, who acts as a spy.

As the months pass, Hackman’s letters grow increasingly feverish. He oscillates between grandiose romantic declarations and dark, premonitory musings on suicide and the nature of suffering. He repeatedly rejects Martha’s caution and her refusal to marry him until she is free of debt, interpreting her prudence as a lack of devotion. By 1777, his tone shifts; he begins to lecture her on the "mental" versus "corporal" nature of acting and literature, displaying a compulsive need to control the narrative of their shared life. He views himself as a martyr to love, yet his language frequently drifts into the violent imagery of "hell-hounds" and "dire events."

The final sequence of letters, written in early 1779, shows a man spiraling into delusion. Despite securing a living in Norfolk and believing his goal of marriage is within reach, Hackman grows impatient and paranoid. Following the murder, the correspondence provides a harrowing look at his time in Newgate Prison. He is no longer the impassioned lover but a man awaiting execution, struggling with the horror of his own actions, expressing a profound, chilling detachment from the reality of the crime.

The book’s second half abruptly pivots to the life of Thomas Chatterton. It traces his origins as a charity-school boy in Bristol, his precocious "discovery" of ancient manuscripts, and his subsequent move to London, where his dreams of literary success collapsed into poverty and suicide. The editor dissects the boy’s pride, his capacity for deception, and the physical decline that led him to poison himself at seventeen. By placing these two lives side-by-side, the text suggests that both men were trapped by a singular, destructive genius—or, perhaps, by a sensory intensity that the world was ill-equipped to sustain.

How It Unfolds

The inception of intimacy Hackman’s early letters establish a tone of desperate devotion, where he views Martha Reay as a divine savior capable of transforming his very identity. He dismisses the disparity in their social standing and her prior obligations as mere inconveniences, failing to grasp her genuine fear of the consequences.

The descent into obsession As obstacles mount, Hackman’s prose becomes increasingly erratic, shifting from playful literary critique to ominous threats of self-destruction. He begins to demand total emotional transparency from Martha, treating her silence or caution as a personal betrayal of his "religious" love.

The breach of sanity In the final letters from Norfolk and Newgate, the distinction between reality and fantasy dissolves for Hackman. He justifies his actions through a lens of twisted piety, while his observations on prison life reveal a man who has completely retreated from his own humanity.

The retrospective on genius The focus shifts to the brief, meteoric life of Thomas Chatterton, detailing his childhood in Bristol and his elaborate literary hoaxes. This section serves as a meditation on the cost of ambition and the fatal isolation of the creative mind.

The final synthesis The book concludes by drawing a psychological bridge between Hackman and Chatterton, referencing medical theories of the era to explain their shared "delirious" state. It leaves the reader to consider whether their ends were inevitable results of their internal constitutions or the neglect of the society surrounding them.

The People

James Hackman is the central figure, a man of mercurial temperament who begins as an earnest, romantic youth and ends as a murderer. He is defined by an inability to accept limits; he views love as a totalizing force that justifies any means. Martha Reay stands as the object of this intensity—a woman struggling to navigate a complex, constrained existence. She is intelligent and guarded, yet ultimately paralyzed by her financial debts and the social power of her protector. Her letters reveal a person who is exhausted by the necessity of "acting" for everyone around her. Thomas Chatterton serves as the mirror for Hackman’s instability. A boy of prodigious, self-taught intellect, he is marked by a pride that prevents him from seeking help in his darkest hours. Chatterton represents the potential for both sublime creation and utter self-annihilation, providing a template of the "literary sufferer" that the editor uses to analyze the violent impulses of the other men.

In Its Own Voice

The intensity of the period’s romantic language is evident in Hackman’s early, desperate declarations of love:

“My love is now my religion; I have hardly any God but you, and I almost offer up my prayers to you, as well as for you.”

In his final, bleak reflections from Newgate, Hackman acknowledges his transformation into an object of public horror:

“Peep through the grate of this my only habitation, ye who have town-houses and country-houses; look into my soul and recollect in how few hours I am to die, and for what offence!”

The editor reflects on the tragic, isolated nature of the young poet, whose death remains a haunting symbol of unfulfilled potential:

“What a picture he would have made, with the fatal cup by his bedside, destroying plans of future works and unfinished books.”

What It's Really About

The book explores the dangerous intersection of romantic obsession and the fragility of the human psyche. It questions the extent to which genius or intense passion necessitates a retreat from social reality. By juxtaposing a criminal act of passion with the self-destruction of a poet, it argues that both are manifestations of a mind—or a heart—that has "impressed an action upon the brain" so forcefully that it cannot be reversed. It treats the misery of its subjects as a cautionary tale about the incompatibility of absolute, unchecked desire with the structures of civil life.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of crime and the evolution of the epistolary form will find this an engrossing, if unsettling, experience. It provides a raw, unfiltered look at the 18th-century mind, capturing the period’s fascination with "sensibility" and its tragic limits. The prose is urgent and evocative, though modern readers should be prepared for the dense, flowery rhetoric typical of the era, as well as its stark, archaic attitudes toward women and social hierarchy.

The book does not offer a comfortable reading experience; it is morbid and occasionally disjointed, reflecting the frantic mental states of its primary subjects. However, the psychological portraits are piercing. You will walk away with a lingering sense of unease regarding the thin line between intense artistic or romantic devotion and total mental collapse. It stays with you because it refuses to romanticize its protagonists, presenting them instead as flesh-and-blood victims of their own irrepressible natures. It is a vital primary source for anyone curious about how the past understood, and failed to contain, the most extreme expressions of the human heart.