The Sun.
London, England, 1845-03-10 00:00:00

THE HAMPSTEAD MURDER.

DISCOVERY OF THE WEAPON WITH WHICH THE DE..
CEASED wAs KILLED.—By the extraordinary exertions of
the police, the stick, of which some mention has been already
made as having been usually carried by the prisoner, Thomas
locker, has been at length discovered, and in a most remark-
able manner. It will be recollected that on the post mortem
examination of the body the surgeon gave it as his opinion
that the wounds upon the head of the deceased had been pro-
duced by some blunt and not very heavy instrument. A
shoe-maker's pincers found in the prisoner's room was at first
supposed to be the weapon, but the surgeon thought it a
most unlikely one. He thought a stick more probable. In-
quiry was accordingly directed to the habits of the accused,
and it was ascertained from the evidence of his father and
brother that, up to about three weeks before the date of Mr.
Delarue's murder, he had usually carried a large and rather
heavy yellow walking-stick, which he said he had left
behind him at the house of some friend. The police,
however, thought it by far more likely that it had been
secreted in some convenient spot until its services might be
required, and accordingly every hedge and trench, and place,
about the neighbourhood of the fatal spot has been examined,
but to no purpose. On Thursday evening. however, In-
spector Shackell, of the detective police, received an intima
tion that a young man in the employment of Mr. Rudd,
a poulterer in the New-road. had found a large yellow
walking-stick, covered with blood, secreted in the herbage
at the side- of one of the bridges in the Regent's Park. In-
Spector Shackell went instantly to the person indicated, and
at once received the stick and the particulars of its die-
covery. Strange as it may appear, as an instance of apathy
in forwarding %the pursuit of justice, this young msn
had actually found the bloody instrument on the morning
of the Saturday following the perpetration of the murder,
and although the entire public of the three kingdoms have
been ever since aware of the importance of such a fact
being made known, he haesuffered himself (it is said) to
be dissuaded by his father From coming forward or giving
any information. The information received by the inspec-
tor proved. to be in all respects unusually correct. The
stick had been thrust into the rank herbage or underwood
close by the bridge in the Regent's-park, not far from Prim-
rose-hill. Inspector Shackell lost.no time in waiting on the
father and brother of the accused, to whom he showed the
stick, which they at once identified as the one usually carried
by Thomas locker, and the same of which he spoke when he
asserted that he had left it at the house of a friend. The in-
spector then waited on Mr. Rawlinson, the magistrate, at
Marylebone Police- court, to whom he privately communi-
cated his important discovery, as it cannot come before the
public In the ordinary course of proceeding until Tuesday
next, when the prisoner will be brought up for further ex-
amination, and most probably be finally committed.
With regard to the reports in circulation that there are
other persons suspected of having been accomplices of Rocker
in the foal transaction, there is not the slightest foundation
for them. The police are solely endeavouring to complete
the chain of evidence against him, and they have no suspi-
cion that he had any accomplice.

(From a Sunday Paper.)
THE PRISONER'S INTRODUCTION TO MISS

PHILPS.

Notwithstanding all that has been written respecting
this affair, the circumstances connected with it have
only yet been very imperfectly brought before the public.
We have learned the following additional particulars, the
accuracy of which may be relied on :—Mrs. Edwards,
the lady with whom Miss Sarah Philps, the young lady
to whom the prisoner was paying his addresses, is re-
siding, had been in business in the county of Norfolk, as
a dressmaker, but came to reside in London four years
ago. Miss Philps is a native of Cromer, in the same
county, and having become acquainted with Mrs. Ed-
wards when there, the latter having no children of her
own, adopted her as her daughter. Miss Philps has
been under the guardianship of Mrs. Edwards, who is a
most respectable woman, for nearly. four years. The
length of the intimacy which has subsisted between Miss
Philps and the prisoner Hocker has already been stated
to be ten weeks, but the circumstances under which their
acquaintance was formed have not yet transpired. We are
enabled to state that the first occasion on which the prisoner
spoke to the young lady was about twelve weeks ago,
when meeting her one day in St. Martin's-lane, he ac-
costed her with, " I beg your pardon, Miss, but is not
your name —?" She replied it was not, on which
he again begged her pardon. Miss Philps proceeded on
her way as if nothing had happened, taking no notice of
the prisoner,, but he followed her, and again coming up
to her, inquired whither she was going. To this she
made no reply, but went on her way without taking the
least notice of the prisoner. He again made some ob-
servation, of which she took no notice, on which he with-
drew, and she did not see him again for nearly three
weeks. One day, about that time, he had seen her in
the New road, and advancing to her, made some com-
mon-place remark expressive of affection, but she know-
ing nothing of him, passed on without taking any notice,-
of him. He, however, followed her to No. 6, Bath-place,
and as she was opening the gate repeated the expression
of his attachm. nt to her, and begged permission to ac-
company her into the house. She resented the proposal,
when he exclaimed, " By heavens, Miss, I will see you at
home 1" She, considerably alarmed, entered the house,
hut said nothing to Mrs. Edwards, her guardian, about
what had passed. In an hour afterwards the prisoner
called at the house, and on the servant-maid opening
the door, she inquired who he wanted. " The young
lady," he replied, " who lives here," not at the time know-
ing her name. " Oh, Miss Philps," you mean." observed
the maid. " Aye, Miss Philps," he responded, de-
lighted at learning her name. " Will you give her my
(lard, if you please," he said, handing his card to the
servant-girl, wish the name " Mr. Thomas Henry
' Hooker, engraved upon it. Not knowing the name of
z.. Liao twice aceostea Lae
theut
wsam sr wehtfi
e d e
eestradd
Nliss Philps, when the card was handed to her, had no
idea that it was the same person. Not wishing, there•
flwahifore,shl while
t do heard
t agt
e eo r
odsos before,
or to
mind
servant-maid that w
r
see
a Mrs. gms Edwards
pletradai
personns
. whoseoni namen herly shee tee
t h
That lady went the more readily because the idea
for the purpose of stealing some articles from the room
Mrs. Edwards enteringinquiredthe
never :
a;.artment where Hocker, was,
what was his
purpose
pay his addresses to her. Mrs. Edwards, as might be ex-
pected, was quite confounded at this. On recovering her
presence of mind, she said to him, " This, sir, is very
strange conduct on the part of one of whom neither Miss
Philps nor I, who am her guardian' know anything, and
even of whose name we have never heard before." " You
may rely on it, Madam," remarked Hocker, " that I am
a person of respectability, and that my intentions are
most honourable. M parents reside at 17, Charles-
street, Portland-town." Strange as were the circum
stances under which the prisoner introduced himself,
there was something so manifestly sincere in his manner,
and so much of gentlemanly bearing about him, that
Mrs. Edwards eventually called down Miss Philps. She
at first met his protestations of love with repulses, but
before she had been a quarter of an hour in his com-
pany, she began to feel in some measure influ need by his
cbaoltlhing Mrs.
again on the following day, Mrs.
eeceedingly winning manner. The interview ended in
Edwards's and Miss Philps's
his
consentobt a obtaining
igis
Edwards in the interval taking the precaution to ascer-
tain that his parents did reside at the address he had given.
On the following day, at -the hour appoinfed, Hacker
called at 6, Bath-place. He had not been many minutes
in the young lady's company when he proposed mar-
riage, adding, that he had repeateily seen her in the
Streets, and always wished to speak to her, thoegh
he had never summoned up the requisite courage to do
so, until the afternoon on which he had met with her in
St. Martin's-lane. He said that, from the first time he
saw her, she made a deep impression on his mind, which,
so far from passing away, had ever since been daily
growing. To the proposal of marriage Miss Philps paid
no attention when made on this occasion, but having
obtained permission to renew his visits, the prisoner
again and again repeated it, until at last he obtained the
promise of the young lady to give him her hand. Matters
went on very smoothly for several weeks, he all the
while representing himself as a clerk in the Stock Ex-
change, at a salary of 100/. a year, and as possessing besides
an annuity of 751. left him by an uncle. For some reason
or other he then appeared as if he wished to draw
back, and for that purpose told the young lady that
his father was opposed to the marriage, and that he being
unfriendly it could not take place for at least 12 months.
This was followed by a letter to Mrs. Edwards, pur-
porting to be written by the prisoner's father, in which
the prisoner is represented as a young man of excep-
tionable character, and of ungovernable temper. This
letter will be found referred to in the letter of Mrs.
Edwards, addressed to the prisoner, and which will be
given below. The letter, it was afterwards discovered,
had been written by the prisoner himself, in a disguised
hand, and with the father's name affixed to it. For two
weeks afterwards, nothing was seen or heard of the pri-
soner by Mrs. Edwards or Miss Philps. At the end of
that time, however, he wrote to Mrs. Edwards, saying
that his father had at last consented to his marrying
Miss Philps. This letter will be found among the sub-
joined letters. He renewed his visits to Bath-place ;
but Mrs. Edwards, who never looked with a very favour-
able eye upon him, again discovered, or fancied she saw,
something in him which she did not at elflike. She
therefore embraced the first opportunity of asking him,
in the most explicit terms, what were "his intentions
regarding Sarah ;" adding, that if not honourable, he
had better withdraw altogether. A reference to this
conversation will be flaund in one of the prisoner's letters
to Mrs. Edwards./' Matters were again amicably
arranged, and everything seemed to proceed in the most
auspicious manner. He proposed that the time of his
marriage with Miss Philps should be in the course of
the prevent month.
We have brought the narrative of the circumstances
connected with this strange, eventful history, down to
within three weeks of the murder at Hampstead. About
this time, when Hooker and the young lady (who, it
should be here remarked, is a very modest, interesting,
and bandsnme girl) were together, he mentioned to
her that he had lately been at Sheffield, and that, when
glare he had purchased a handsome ring with a bril-
liant in it. She asked him why he did not wear it; his
answer was, that though he had bought this ring he was
not very fond of jewellery. This, it will be observed,
was about three weeks before the murder was committed.
Consequently, on tbe. assumption that he committed the
dreadful, deed, he must have meditated it three weeks
before he Carried his purpose into execution.
the prisoner and
she never OW any It ought here to be mentioned that, notwithstanding
the frequency of the interviews which
the young lady had together,
appear-
anco of his being possessed of money—not even o
f silver
or copper. It is also a curious fact, that nOtwithstand
ipg the, vehemence of his protestations of love, and his
being for several weeks on terms of marriage w.ith Mips
Philps, he never gave her a single present of any .kind.
The sister-44-law of mra. reaword,s,beisig hoppOiek."Ter

to Sir Oswald Moseley, who resides in Portland-place,
Miss Philps was in the habit of visiting, the relative of
her adopted mother at Sir Oswald's house, and. Hooker
very frequently called upon her there. Miss Philps
called on Sir Oswald Moseley's housekeeper at Port-
land-place about half-past eight on the night of the
murder, and her first inquiry was whether Hocker had
been there that evening ? The housekeeper replied
that he had . not. " Well," remarked Miss Philps,
" though I had no appointment with him to-night, I
did somehow or other think he would call." " Oh, it's
too late fur him, my child," observed the other. "It is
later than his usual time," replied Miss Philps, " but
still I think he will come." About ten minutes past nine
his knock was heard at the door. He entered, and re-
mained for about an hour and a half. " Sarah," said he,
after having shaken hands, and asked her and the house-
keeper how they did. " Sarah, this is the brilliant ring
I told you three weeks ago I had bought at Sheffield."
And as he made the remark he handed ber a ring.
" Why don't you put it OR and wear it ?" she in-
quired. " Because," said he, " it's too large," and he put
it on his finger to show her that it was so. " I have
also," he observed, " bought this watch," showing her
the watch referred to so often in the examination at the
Coroner's inquest and at the Marylebone Police-office.
After this they entered into general conversation; and
the young lady observing that he had some spots of
blood on the front of his shirt, asked him how it hap-
pened they were there? " Oh," said he, "the governor
and 1 have been having a piece of fun together, and he
accidentally made my nose bleed." Struck with the
circumstance of his looking unusually cheerful that
night, she made an observation to that effect. "Yes,"
he replied, "I don't know how it is, but I never felt so
happy in my life before. My mind, thank God, is more
at ease to-night than it has been for a long time past."
This, singular as it may seem, wai said with a peculiar
emphasis, and was again repeated in the course of the
evening's interview. Miss Philps remarked to her friend,
after Rocker had parted with her, that she never before
saw him so full of fun and spirits, and at the same
time expressed her inability to account for the circum-
stance. Her friend had also been struck with his unusual
cheerfulness and hilarity, coupled with the fact of his re-
peating several times, with a marked emphasis, that he
never in all his life felt so happy as he did that evening:
On one occasion, while mentioning how comfortable he
felt, he added, " I thank Heaven, Sarah, that I have
nothing resting on my mind to make me unhappy."
The subsequent history of this unfortunate young man
is well known. The circumstance under which suspicion
fell en him and his consequent appreh3nsion have al-
ready been detailed in our paper. In the discovery of
the leading facts, which will be brought forward at the
trial of the prisoner, the greatest credit is due to Mr.
Shackell, the intelligent and enterprising officer of the
detective police.
We here subjoin the letters referred to in a previous
part of this article. The first is from the prisoner to
Mrs. Edwards, in answer to a letter of hers addressed to
him :

" 11, Victoria-terrace, St. John's Wood.
" My dear Afadam,—l hardly know how to address
you, after reading your truly sincere and kind letter,
which now lies before me. I shall never forgive myself
for delivering my feelings to you in such an ambiguous
and unintelligible manner, as it is evident I must have
done, for you so to have misunderstood me. I will re-
spectfully ask you one question. After my return to
your sitting-room, did I behave as though I thought
tha !was my last visit to you ? I joked and laughed
heartily ; but, Go :1 knows, I should have joined you with
a heavier heart, had I known you had so mistaken me.
I well remember how earnestly you asked me if it were
my intention to withdraw ; but I cannot call to mind
that you added altogether' to the question. If I had
heard you do this, my affection for Sarah would imme-
diately have undeceived you. But I feel confident you
now see what I meant, therefore I will say no more on
this head. Why did you allude to your circumstances ?
It was unkind of you. You did not intend it ; but it
made me fear you had formed an opinion somewhat un-
worthy of me—that you thought I had suffered the con-
sideration of your pecuniary affairs of induce me to leave
Sarah. Never, Madam, never harbour such an idea
again. It wounded me more than you imagine.
" There is o e part of your letter which confused me.
You say, Deal openly with me in respect to this dear
child, as to what your intentions positively are, or else
withdraw yourself in an honourable manner.' If my
letters and general conduct have failed to be straightfor
ward hitherto, candidly I assure you that I know not
how to proceed differently. Can you not gather from
my last what my intentions really are? When I lately
had the favour of a retired interview with you, I told
you, as honourably as I could, that I thought it better
to discontinue my attentions to Sarah, until my father
should encourage me to renew it. Was it my affection
or my sense of 'propriety, which then prompted me to
make such an offer? My father's kindness gives me
every hope, for he has told me when he will take an ac-
tive part in my arrangements with you. I mentioned
this in the latter part of the above noticed letter. I can-
not see why you should experience that ' uncertain per-
plexity' of which you speak, and which renders
you so uncomfortable. I consider that you have
done your duty; and, whether you agree with me or not,
I am satisfied that I have done mine. What remains
to be done, time will effect. If' it be your wish that Sarah
should not wait my father's pleasure, or, in other words,
that she should set her affection on some one else, ac-
quaint her with it, and do not hide. it from me. But if
(which I trust is the case) you be disposed to make
yourself more easy, and to encourage me to hope, and
Sarah to have more confidence than suspicion, the time
is not far distant when we may all of ui be happy yet.
Do not mistake my p'ainness of speech for want of re-
spect, but believe me ever your indebted and faithful
servant, " T. H. HOCKER."

ThA following letter is one of those which the prisoner
wrote to Mrs. Edwards, when he appeared as if desirous
of breaking off the intimacy with Miss Philps, and when
he asigned his, father's disapproval of the match as the
reason :

"Victoris Terrace, St. John's Wood.

"My dear Madam,—l cannot deceive you. I have
written twice to my father ; the inclosed i$ his answer.
I will not bias your mind by making any defence. I
promised .Sarah she should real my father's letter. what-
ever it contait:ed. I regret that it does not realise my
hopes. I thought to be happy, but am once more far
from being so. I wanted to say much more to you, but
I find lam not able. Do write me one line at your
earliest convenience, and believe me, my dear madam,
your ever indebted and obedient servant,
" Friday night. " T. H. HOCKER.

"Mrs. 'Edwards, 6, Bath-place, New-road."

Contemporaneously with this, Mrs. Edwards received
a letter purporting to be from the prisoner's father, but
which is now known to have been written by the pri-
soner himself, in a disguised hand. In this letter, the
father is made to represent the son as a profligate young
man, and one who had resigned himself to the dominion
of an " ungovernable temper." The object was to make
Mrs. Edwards and the young lady acquiesce the more
readily in his withdraing from his engagement to marry
the latter. Little imagining that the letter had been
written by the prisoner himself, Mrs. Edwards enclosed it
to him in the following letter. Though there is no date
to it, we happen to know that it was written on the 26th
of January of the present year :
" 6, Bath-place, Saturday.
"My dear Sir,—l enclose your father's letter, which
I confess is anything but flattering. I would not for the
world Sarah should marry a young man whose temper
is ungovernable. She is herself all gentleness, and any
harsh or unkind treatment would break her heart. That
I exonerate you from any mercenary views is only just ;
but do you think your reformation is completed ? Will
there be no kr kslidings ? and in giving a young crea-
ture to your care, will you shield her and guard her as a
man of honour ? Again, I repeat, never myself would I
enter any family without the approbation of the gentle-
man's friends. I will, if you approve it, after seeing you
on Tuesday, visit your mother, perhaps I may there see
your father, but I hold the paternal authority so sacred,
that I should feel sorry were you to act in opposition to
your father's wishes ; you must either be incorrigible,
or else Mr. Hooker must be such a parent as never for
one moment entered into my imagination. Most
fervently hoping your reformation, and for your own
peace of mind, learn the important discovery that temper
is everything, are the sincere wishes of yours, very truly,
"ELEANOR EDWARDS."

After this a reconciliation took place between the pri-
goner and Mrs. Edwards and Miss Philps. He renewed
his visits and his correspondence, assigning as a reason
that he had now obtained his father's consent to the
marriage. The following letter to Mrs. Edwards bears
on this incident in the curious courtship

" 11, Victoria-terrace, St. John's-wood.

"My dear Madam—l want to know how you and Mr.
Edwards are t • and can you not guess the rest ?
As for me, I feel myself growing fatter' every day
already. My father sent for me a few days ago; I have
seen him, and all is right and comfortable. This is glorious
news to any one who loves to hear of peace and harmony
reigning in the family circle but to you, madam, it is
doubly so, I know. Tell Sarah how glad I shall be as soon
as this mental Lent—this season of self-denial is over with
me. My father is kinder to me every time I see him.
We smoke our pipes in concert. On Monday evening
last I was reciting something to him in my
usual rough way, when he abruptly stopped me, and
with his hand laid gently on my shoulder, said, My
boy, irdoes our hearts good to hear you talk once more
—fill up the glass again, my girl,' turning to my mother.
You cannot think how this struck home to me. I thought
of you both and our dear Sarah, and felt persuaded that
it needed but a word from my father to you to restore
me to my former position in your esteem and good
opinion, and to make me a more desirable and worthy
object of affection in Sarah's estimation. My father has
mildly upbraided me for forming any attachment at
such an unfortunate period, and has kindly promised to
second my views as soon as by steadiness and care I
shall have proved a disinclination to my old habits of
thoughtlessness and indiscretion. By keeping
Sarah continually before me I am sure of being able
to accomplish my duty. And, oh ! my dear Madam,
when I shall see you again at your house, will you not
unite your best and warmest wishes to mine that Sarah's
peace of mind may never, on any occasion, be disturbed
at the remembrance of our first meeting. Pardon my
freedom with you, and believe me, with the deepest
anxiety about your health and Mr. Edwards', my dear
Madam, your ever indebted and faithful servant,

" T. H. HOCKER.
" Mrs. Edwards, 6, Bath-place, New-road,
Feb. 6, 1845."

There is now no longer a doubt that the prisoner is
the only party ct_ncerned in the murder. Alone he did
it. Not the slightest suspicion attaches to any one else.
Sir Oswald Moseley has, we understand, discharged his
housekeeper (sister-in-law of Mrs. Edwards), though she
has filled that situation for about twenty years.

MEMOIR OF THOMAS HENRY HOCKER.
The following particulars respecting Thomas Henry
'locker, who stands charged with the wilful murder

of the late Mr. Delarue, at Hampstead, have not before
been published.
Thomas Henry Hecker was born in the month of May,
1823, and will consequently be twenty-two years of age,
in May next. He received his education in the school
bel,:nging to Christ Church, situated in Richmond-
street, Edgware-road, and being a sl arp forward boy,
was much noticed as an apt and ready scholar, and in
extreme youth was remarkable for his well-knit and
muscular frame, which gave him great strength. He
subsequently went to Sheffield, where, through the kind
interference of a friend, he succeeded in procuring a
situation in one of the schools in that town ; and while
residing there, paid his addresses to an amiable you- g
lady of the name of Batty, with whom he has since
boasted, he used to ride about in her parent's carriage,
and whose letters to locker are now in the hands
of the police, having been found in hs lodgings at the
time of his apprehension. In fact, it is be-
lieved, that he has been corresponding with Miss
Batty up to the time of the murder, notwithstanding
that he was at the same time paying his addresses to
Mies Sarah Jane Philps, the young lady examined at
the inquest. While at Sheffield Hocker led a very gay
life, and his continual demands for money on his father
caused his parent to apply for arlyances from loan
societies, which has since occasioned him comiderahle
embarrassment. About two years since hooker was
obliged to leave. Sheffield, and having no other resource
returned to his father, who then resided at No. 5,
Charles-street, Portland Town, from which time he has
led an idle and dissolute life, not untainted by crime, his
principal occupation having been the deluding of
females, and the meeting of the deceased Delarue in
the fields, for, it is believed, the worst of purposes.
His father having supported him for several months,
and being much straitened in circumstances, fre
quently remonstrated with him on his extreme idleness,
as he often continued in bed until the of the
day. These quarrels at len.th grew high, and on one
occasion Thomas locker made an attack on his father
with such brutality that Mr. Hooker had two severe
black eyes, and was s- bruised all over that he was un-
able to leave the house during a whole fortnight, After
that occurrence, through the intervention of friends,
matters went on more smoothly between him and his
father, and since Mr. Hocker removed to his present re-
sidence, about fifteen months since, the prisoner has
been known to render some slightassistancein the ladies'
shoemaking business. There was,. however, still a
great difficulty in getting him out of bed in the morning.
so much so that another serious quarrel arose between
him and his father on the Ist of August last, when he
slept for three nights in the fields near to the very spot
where the murder of Mr. Delarue was perpetrated. On
the following night the landlord of the house in which
the father resides went with James Rocker, the
brother, to that dreary spot, for the purpose of offering
him a bed; but he evaded their search, and, after tra-
versing the dark Bellsize-lane without finding him,
on their return they met two policemen, whom
they told of the circumstance, giving them a descrip-
tion of Thomas Hooker's person; and requesting them,
should they see him going towards the spot to sleep, to
tell him to come to 17, Charles-street, as the landlord
wished to see him. They did see him, and he did go
to his father's residence ; but when the. above offer was
made to him, he spurned it with contempt. About that
time it was that Mr. Delarue was robbed in the Regent's-
park, by, it is said, a female and two, men, the former
first accosting him, and the latter holding him while the
robbery was committed ; and it is believed that the
watch, the duplicate of which was found at the lodgings
of Thomas Hocker, is the identical watch of which Mr.
Delarue was on that occasion robbed. About the same
time Thomas locker was seen to be in the possession of
several sovereigns, which he alleged Mr. Delarue had
presented to him. The next evening Mr. locker's
landlord met Thomas Hooker at Primrose-hill, when the
latter consented to accompany him to the house of Mrs.
Carter, No. 19, Charles-street, where he remained three
weeks. At the expiration of that time, his mother took
for him an empty room at No. 4, Charles-street, St.
John's Wood- terrace, where he remained, going home
daily to his meals, until his removal to No. 11, Victoria-
terrace, where he was apprehended.
There is not a shadow of doubt that the alleged
murderer, during his intimacy with Mr. Delarue, had
received from his victim the sum of nearly 1501., the
whole of which he had squandered in vice and debauchery,
and tint he was well aware that a stop was about to be
put to his career, and that his victim would no longer
submit to his importunate demands. There is no doubt
that he had deliberately made up his mind to enforce
those demands at every risk, even of sacrificing life, in
proof of which there may he adduced the fact of his
having told the story three weeks before of having lost
the thick and mas,ive stick which he brought with him
from Sheffield, and which has ju,t been
_found ; and that
most probably,on Mr. Delarue refusing him more money,
he instan:ly felled him to the ground with the stick in ques-
tion, following up his blows with kicks until he had de-
prived his victim of life.

Much has been s; id in the daily papers respecting
suspicions as to other persons having been concerned in
the perpetration of the murder. We can confidently
state that no such suspicions have ever been entertained
by the police authorities.

[ADVERTISEMENT.]
lIYGEIAN MANIFESTO.

All medical advice is quackery, because there is in
fact but one disease, impurity of the blood, and there-
fore but one reose-ly :—viz., Proper Vegetable
Purgation.
Remember that it is only because doctors, in order
to make a trade of the science of medicine, use
poisons * and anti medicinal preparations as medi-
cines for the cure of diseases, that " advice," as it is
called, becomes necessary ; but if y( .0 do away with
poisons or anti-medicinal preparations, and only take
that which is proper and good, and which acts in ac-
cordance with the laws of nature, then all advice be-
comes unnecessary. This is the reason that all true
hygeists are their own doctors, and laugh at what
doctors term " advice." 'Whenever they feel pain of any
kind they have recourse to the Vegetable Universal Me-
dicine (Morison's Pills) which they can regulate
without fear, so as to produce proper evacuations, com-
mencing with four or five pills, and increasing if ne-
cessary; hence the fact of staunch hygeists in
some cases taking twenty, thirty, and even forty pills
at a dose, thereby proving the universality of the
medicine, as in the case of Lady Sophia Grey, for
disease of the spine; Sir Richard Sutton's son, for
consumption ; living monuments to attest the fact,
and thousands of others. But with the poisons of the
doctors, such as prussic acil, opium, arsenic, deadly
night-shade, &c., &c., if you take a grain or so too
much, death is the consequence ; and therefore, to
those persons who are, from a state cf ignorance,
obliged by doctors' treatment to make use of such
poisons, " advice" of course becomes necessary. It is
by giving advice that doctors make a trade of medi-
cine; and hence their violent anl unjust opposition to
Mr. Morison's system, because it does away with all
mystery, and enables every man to become his own
doctor. The fact of scarcely two doctors agreeing in
any case as to the treatment to be pursued, is also a
proofthat medical advice is quackery; one is for bleeding,
the other against it, and so on. The case of Baker v.
Lowe proves this assertion to be true; there were 437
visits made and charged for at 7s. 6d. each, and three
eminent doctors were of one opinion and three of the
other, the poor patient lost his leg after all, as they
say, for the good of science! ! Heaven save the
mark ! This should never be forgotten by the public.
Ilygeists, therefore, for the reasons before-men-
tioned, most solemnly protest against the use of poi-
sons as medicines, or their being held out to the
world as such.

The following deadly poisons are most commonly
used by doctors—there are many more, too numerous
to mention, for the names of which we refer the
reader to the " London Pharmacopceia" and Medical
Dictionaries.

I.—Prussic Acid, in all its forms.
2.—Mercury, ditto.
3.—Opium, ditto.
4.—Arscnic, in all its forms.
s.—Digitalis or Fox-glove, ditto.
6, Antimony, ditto.
And though last, not least, the practice of bleeding
in all its forms.

Issued by Morison and Moat, of the British College
of Health, New-road, London, for, and on behalf
of the body of Hygeists, who contend, that, since
all diseases arise from one cause, namely, an im-
purity of the blood, they can be cured by the
Vegetable Universal Medicine, which being com-
posed of innocuous ingredients, may be taken by
any person without the advice of a doctor.
* Doctors hold out poisons as medicines ! I in order
that people may come to them to know how, and in
what quantity, they are to be taken. The use of
spirituous liquors is prescribed " (heaven
save the the mark) by doctors, upon the same principle
as the other poisons. If simples, or strictly medicinal
substances only were used, persons might cure them-
selves, which doctors want to prevent. It is thus that
doctors, to their shame be it said, make a t:ade of me-
dicines.

FUNERAL OF SIR JOHN GURNEY.—The interment
of the remains of the late Sir John Gurney took place on Fri-
day. The funeral cortege assembled at the residence of the
deceased Judge, in Lincoln's Inn-fields, at two o'clock, and
consisted of a hearse and four, and five mourning coaches, the
latter of which contained the following gentlemen :—Russell
Gurney, Esq., Sidney Gurney, Esq., the Rev. H. Gurney,
Joseph Gurney, Esq., and Thomas and Henry Gurney, Esqs.,
chief mourners ; the Rev. Mr. Tyler, the Rev. George Lea,
Thomas and William Hawes, Esqs. (relatives of the de-
ceased), Russell Scott, Esq., S. H. Fordham, Esq., &c. The
private carriages of the Hon. Sir James Coleridge, Sir B.
Bosanquet, Sir John Patteson, H. Weymouth, Esq., J.
Hardy, Esq., M.P., Joseph Wilson, Esq., Martin Ware, Esq.,
&c., followed. On the arrival of the funeral procession at the
chapel of St. Giles-in-the-Fields' Cemetery, Old St. Pancras-
road, the Rev. Mr. Tyler, Rector of the parish of St. Giles,
performed the burial service of the Church, at the conclusion
of which the remains of the deceased were deposited in a
vault on the eastern side of the cemetery, near to the mau-
soleum of Sir John Soane (in accordance with the desire of
the deceased). The inscription on the coffin simply says:—
"Sir John Gurney, Knt., aged 77, 1845."
BRISTOL SUGAR MARKET, MARCH 7.—Nothing
whatever is doing in our market, nor will there be until the
trade know the final intentions of Government, respecting
the duties. From what transpired in the House, however,
last evening, it now seems evident that the Minister intends
to adhere to his original proposition as regards the clssifica •
tion of sugars—a plan full of difficulties and objections, as
acknowledged by all practical and unprejudiced parties con-
versant with the sugar trade.—Bristol Mercury.
STOCKTON-ON-TEES, MARCH 7.—The brig Alpha,
of Whitby, struck on Shields Bar iii COMillg out, and put
into the leek this aftemoia, leaky,

MARKET NEWS..--(SATURDAY')
COVMNT—GIXRDEN.
On the whole, the supplies of Vegetables were tolerfiblit
good, while the demand for them was steady, at prices till
equal to those obtained on this day se'nnight. Fruit sfssm
sluggish request, but not cheaper. Potatoes, from 386dr,tcd to
per cwt ; Turnips, 2s 6d tck, 3s 6d; Carrots, 5s
gilts
7g ; Coeworts, or Greens, 3s to 48 ; and • L4`3,to
Is to is 9d per dozen bunches; Apples, 2s to 4s; Fors' per
8s; and Onions, 2s to 3s per half sieve Forced to
tatoes, 8(1 t • Pine Apples, 8s to 103 ; and Filberts, l
Is 6d per lb; Savoys, is 3d to 2s perdozen ; Forced
(iob;
barb, is 9d to 2s 3d; ditto Asparagus, 6s to 8s; 1"06n, pet
2s to ss; I3rocoli, 2s to 4s ; and Celery Is tl3-10311
bundle; Oranges, 5s to 10s; and Lemons, 8s to 12s ;
French Beans, 2s 6d to 3s per hundred.

117NGEXPOR.D. # bleOr
We had a steady demand for most kinds of Vet4,,,te,
at full prices: otherwise, the trade was in a sluggish
at barely last week's quotations.
IirM';iirCAATII AND xatamerirThe&v,,„ of
Prime Mutton, Veal, and Pork sold freely, other ku'-a
to
Meat slowly, at the following prices :—Beef, from 25 4 York'
3s 4d ; 2s Sd to 3s 8d ; 36 10d to 5s ; soiltri,„°tlt
2s Sd to 4s 2d per Slbs, by the carcass. The supplies so, Tlicji
Game.and Poultry offering were extensive, owing to ~,wowls„
the demand ruledheavy, at barely last week's prices- pet
3s to 7s; Chickens, 2s to 4s; and Ducks, 23 6d to 6s.
couple; lilacs, 2s to 3s; Rabbits, Odd to 8d; Partrid.As,
to 38; Turkeys, 3s to 7s ; Pheasants, 48 to ss; and GO*
to 7s each.

NEWPORT.
There was rather an inactive general demand at ouliqurd)
tions. Beef, from 2s 841 to 3s 6d; Mutton, 28 8d to3l
""
Veal, 4s to 58; and Pork, 3s to 4s 4d per Blbs.

ESILINGSGATE. fref
An immense supply of all kinds of Fish WAS °II °c od
hence prices were again lower. Turbots, 78 to 18s;
Fish, 2s to 7s; 2d to 4d; and Whitings, 2a„rpot
each ; Mackerel, 16s to 18s per 120; Soles 2d to 20'1"
pair.

TE C HAP XX. 317731
We had a sluggish g eneral inquiry hero, I:+nn.ce.
s
mostly supported Bed, from 2s 6d to 3s 6d; 03•2‘"—sp •
to 33 8d; Veal, 43 to 53; and Pork, 2s 8d to 4s 2d pa

BREAD. 00-
The prices of Wheaten Bread in the Metropolis or
7d to lid ; of Household ditto, sid to 6id per 41bs leer. • .

_
BIDE WILMILET.
Raw Hides, at per stone of 141bs :—Best Steers Oa, clot
5s 6d to 5s 10d ; Middling Hides, 4s 8d to 55 2d ; 1?„,:••
ditto, 4s 4d to 4s 6d. Sheep and7Calf Skins, at per to
Market Calf, 6s 6d to 8s ; Long-woolled Sheer, 3%)
4s 9d ; Short ditto, 3s to 43 ; Lamb Skins, 15 3a to
and Shearlings, 6d each.

HAY SILARZZTII.
100'
SMITHFIELD.—t- 51 Meadow Hay, 31105 to - 5 Pi
ful ditto, 4/ 12s to 51; fine Upland ditto, .• iat
Clover Hay, 4/ 8s to Si 17s ; Oat Straw, 1/ 161 W „ghee
Wheat Straw, 11 18s to 2/ per load. Trade tho"
inactive, at barely stationary prices. 19
CUMBERLAND.—Coarse Meadow Hay
to, 3/ 128 to 500;
useful ditto, 41 143 to 5/ • fine Upland ditto, 5/ WOW;
Clover Hay, 4/ 8s; to 51 15s ; Oat Straw, 11165 ,na
Wheat Straw, 11 18s to 2/ per load. A moderate OM
a steady demand. 41 I°6l
WurrEcHapur...—Coarse Meadow Hay, Si 105 to
useful ditto, 4/ 12s to 5/ ; fine Upland ditt2lll
5/5s ; Clover Hay, 4/ lOs to 61;`. Oat Straw, 11 /65 fr"„nd OP'
Wheat Straw, 1/185 to 2/ per load. Supply goo'', '-
rather dull.

WAKEFIELD CORN MARKET.--v--
11
There is a large arrival of Wheat for this daYlO eek,
prices have recovered from the depression of las.talto sor
an extensive business passing. Barley is in pleni",it
and the maltsters are enabled to select their qua°4
rather easier terms. Beans are dull, and Oats an
Or'
maintain their value.
Wheat—Suffolk, Essex, and Kent
PReerdq.r...o.f 64 04 ltbo.:
Ditto ditto •.• • • • White • • 49 142
Norfolk - 43 'A;
Ditto ditto White.. 45 P
Lincolnshire and Cambridge Red.. . 42 "
1
Ditto ditto .. •• • • White• • 46 1,
Yorkshire . . .
Ditto ditto ... •• • "White.• 45 4: 43
English, Old
Foreign ..... Red.... 41 ,tior
Ditto ditto White •• 49 Seiltor
Per V.' 44
Barley—Norfolk and Suffolk 34 35. 34
34
Yorkshire and Lincolnshire 31 '
Grinding •• 2) 30 14 ilk
Foreign .
Per qr. of 6311)•:;
Beans—Small fine •• • „ • • • 36 "
41
Tick5................................40
Foreign
. • '
Oats—Mealing, per Stone . •
• • 10d, 10d, I '
'l4lOOl
Feeding
Foreign ..... •.• • • „ ........
.... 11- ..A0
Shelling, per L0ad.....................ab5, 364 • „
Malt, per Load of 6 Bushels• •• • .... ..
per 0.7 -"
Pease—Blue and White Boilers.. •. • ..... ..... . 40 4
Grey and Feed ...............
fit,''
Rapeseed—English, per Last Imperial ... ..... . 231.. -
Foreign 234.,

RAILWAY RETURNS•

102
neelPi.ooo°
RAILWAY Ta.srptc.—The following are the Total to W
ways for the past week—that is to say, up to tits iis of
respective returns are made, together with the rtcrAl>"
week in the previous year :

Week
ending

1/14°.

NAME OF RAILWAY.

-$
161
S,oll'

Mar. 1
Feb. 28

Mar. 4