The Sun.
London, England, 1858-04-17 00:00:00

A MELANCHOLY STORY,

On Wednesday morning Mr. Coroner Hitchens •
was called upon to investigate a very melancholy
caso of suicide. The inquiry was touching the
death of a young girl named Fanny Coxon, a domes-
tic in the service of Mr. Joseph Brocklebank, of
Carlton-le-Moorland, who on the previous Monday
night had destroyed herself in a pond in the farm-
yard of her master. The following letter in her
handwriting, directed to her father, was found on
her table :

" Dear Father, Mother, and Sister,—With a trem-
bling hand and a sad heart for the last time I now take
up my pen to write these few lines to you, hoping they
will find all in better health and spirits than they leave
me, for my heart" is well nigh broken. You will be
horrorstruck with surprise when you see this note frora •
your own daughter's hand ; but before it reaches you I
shall have found a watery grave, for I have the news to
tell which, if I was to live, it would disgrace both my-
self and you all; but, my dearest friends, it never wag
my wish. I was led astray, and it has been my grief for
weeks past, but I never dare tell any one. There is not
one in our house knows how I am fixed ; neither can I
bear the idea of it being known to any one ; but lam six
mouths gone with child ; so I can see the differenoe my
self, and feel it too, and I cannot bear it any longer. It
will be a sal stroke for you all ; but do not grieve ; for
I have grieved myself, and it is no use. You have an-
other daughter ; but it is one who ought to have been
her guide through the path of youth. Give my love to
tier, and tell her to think of me, but not to do as I have
done ; tell her to follow the steps of her dear mother
more than I have done_ There is a little book in soy
box that Edwin gave.to me ; give it to her, and tell het
it was the last wish of her dear sister that she should
have it, and keep it ; and it is my wish that Edwin
should have my Bible for a keepsake from me. I
hope you will look upon him as one of your own,
for he would have been if this dishonour had
not befallen me. So take pity on him, for Ido
not know how he will get over it, for he does not know
any mere about it than you do. It is not him that hal
done me this dishonour, or I could have borne it better ;
but it was one that was nothing to me, but shall not ea/
who. This is my box-key ; so come and see me as soon
ac you get this note ; but if I am not found before
then, you will find me at the bottom of the stack-yard. I
have no money in my box. I owe John Wright for a now
frock that is in my box now, 4s. 6d. ; and I owe Aire.
Ash 2s. 3d. for making me one ; and Miss Wade 10e. for
doing my bonnet ; and Mr. Wade for two pairs of new
boots ; and I owe Mr. Wilson a bill for some things, but
do not know how much it is, so I cannot say. I hope
you will pay them all. lam afraid I shall not be allowed
to be buried in the churchyard."
Edwin Key, who was much affected while giving
his evidence, stated that it was near 10 o'clock
when he left the deceased in the back kitchen. She
had said to him she should not live long; but hig
had no thought that she would destroy herself.
They had had no words ; she seemed as usual. 110
was ignorant of her being in the faruilyway. Se
had kept company with her for two years, and never
he trd of any other young man keeping company
with her. She had left him a letter, and until lie
had received it he was not aware what had hap-
pened. (Letter produced, and read as follows)
" My dearest Edwin, —With a trembling hand and a
half-broken heart, I now, for the first time, write these
few lines to you ; but I know not how to tell you the
news. You will be horror-struck with surprise to see it
from ene you have loved so dear that I am with child ;
but before this note arrives to you I shall have found a
watery grave. It never was my wish to be in this way,
but I was led astray ; but I hope, my dear, you will not
think me deceitful fur not telling you ; but I could not
bear the idea of parting with you till I was obliged ;
but, my dear, I cannot live in this way any longer. I
hops you will go to see them at home after I au, gone,
to bear them cumpauy sometimes. It is my wish, my dear,
for you to have my Bible, and keep it for my sake. I bare
i chosen my bearers t lam allowed to be bur ice in the church-
yard. I hope, my dear, let rue be buried wherel may, you
will come to my funeral, but do not grieve much for rue;
but if we had parted sooner I should have died sooner,
for it would have broken my heart before now. No 006
linovs the hours I have pissed in silent grief. I hope
you will have a company keeper to behave well to you..
vs bile you are single ; also when you are married, for
am sure you are worthy of the best that steps ; and, my
dear, I do sincerely wish youwell
have
readbrou thghliis yte,oaund a
!il
happy death. I hope when you h
forgive me. So good-bye, and a long farewell.—Frommyours till death, "F. Coxori.
caused
da verdict
herself,
t beingthe daeta lthh
eat
ittulleo
dTeficee
aj
suerdy
wasretuer
of a sane mind ; and the coroner issued his w!ir-
rannt for leer interment between the hours of niun
and twelve o'clock. —lVottingliam Review.

It is stated that Messrs. Calvert and Co., for the satis-
faction of all persons interested in their affairs, hay!
placed their books in the hands of Messrs. Quitter 14nu.
Co., the accountants, to undergo a thorough sxaminti
Lion. In the position in which they have lately foul'a
themselves this step became essential.
The advicea from all the commercial centres of 111
Continent describe a stagnation of business and a gelor3„
exercise of caution as has perhapl never previously bee;
witnessed to a s.milar extent. At most places the rat%
for money are unaltered. At Paris the charge is 3; ;
Hamburg, 14 to 2 ; at Amsterdam, 34 ; and at Brussel-P
3 ptr cent.