The North-Eastern Weekly Gazette. — 1893-06-17 (Stockton-on-Tees, Cleveland, England)

TRAGIC SUICIDE OF A POET AND  HIS WIFE.  Mr Hermann Stoer, the well-known poet, and his wife were lait Saturday found shot dead in  Cockering Wood, about two miler to the westward of Canterbury. They had been residing in the Cathedral city for some weeks past, apparently intent upon enjoying a country holiday. There was appanntly nothing to mar their complete happiness, and letters left by Mr Stoer declared that their enjoyment was complete. On Friday, however, they disappeared, after despatching letters containing information of the deed contemplated. These were received on Saturday by Mr Oscar Stoer, of London, a brother, and .54r..Garassi King, of. Leeds, an intimate friend  of the deceased,Zid teleg. rains from them led to the discovery on Saturday night of the dead bodies. They were lying in a potty sylvan spot not far removed from the tthathain-road, the wife with }1 revolver wound on the left side of the head and the husband with one on  the right side of his bead. In his hand I was a six-chambered revolver, the weapon , with which undoubtedly the deed had IrAm winini tted. The evidence of premeditatitn is terribly evident, apart from the letters. The bodies were in close contact, the husband's face caressingly i approaching that of the wife, who lay full length with her hands calmly folded. The hats, umbrella, and walking-stick wore tied together, I and a bunch of wild bowers, tied with crape, laid upon them. In the pocket of Mr Steer were I several letters, including Ono apparently intended for the Coroner. The landladyof the house where I they stayed says the couple appeared as happy as possible, with one exception, which she coneluded was simply a little fretfulness on the part of Mrs Steer at leaving her home. Mr Steer told her that Lis wile had mime direct to Canterbury from Germany. Mrs Steer was quite a child, and always had a smiling few. She could not be more than nineteen, and it would not surprise her to hoar the deceased lady was only seventeen. Their walks were always into the country, and they seemed wonderfully to like to be quiet. They would bring back wild roses and other flowers, with which to decorate their looms. They did not appear to care at all tor garden dowers. The following letter was received by Mr G. W. Sing, of Leeds 4  I am dead. I shot misel: on the 9th June, near Canterbury, in a wood on the west side of the town. I had heeei lour weeks in this place with my wire, who came on purpose from Germany to die with me. I leave proofs enough behind me to testy that I am no murderer—letters in German, which will be found on my body, and her family will also be obliged to acknowledge the truth. We lived under the shadow of &ate happily together from the lath of May, the day before my birthday, until the 9th of June, the day before her birthday, the time that fate allowed. We lived joyfully and peacefully, tor we dwelt in the bosom ' of nature and separated from the stupidity, cupidity, and madness of mankind. Our pleasures were woods, birds, fields, and wild dowers. The hawthorn blossoni and the blue bells were with us at first, then the honeysuckle and the wild rose. Music and song were our occupation. With merry and earnest conversations in our little lodging we were a harmony together, a tender and sublime accord. As the mountain stream meets his sister in the valley, we united and flowed together towards the Berne sea of freedom. Never was there a woman so noble as my wife, never has her sex known a character so high and so purely human— never was sweetness so soitly mated with greatest strength. We are not dead of bodily lust or despair, but of fate and conviction. We never despaired, and we died calmly. The reason for the act a-id be found in my words and her letters. She understood ow, and lived in and through rue. The only papers I have destroyed were plans for poems and plays, ex. I leave whet remains ot me in your hands, considering ybu as the best and fittest person, for the trust reincemboing your friendship for myself and some admiration for certain of the sail works. Above all, I write as an honest man to an honest man.  Mr Hermann Stoer was the second son of a Mr Steer, of the firm of Stoer Brothers and Coles, ink makers, &c., Upper Thames-street, London. The deceaeed gentleman was educated chiefly in Germany. He was of an intensely shy and reserved disposition- lie had devoted himself for some years to poetry, and has left a number of tragedies and poems showing evidence of remarkable ability, but he failed to obtain recognition. Mr Steer and his companion have been buried at Cheatham, not far from the wood in which their bodies were found, and since the coroner's jury came to the decision that they were man and wife , they were interred in the same grave. The age of the man was 28 and she 22. She was possessed of considerable personal attractions. '1 he de! ceaeed man was in the habit of paying several visits to Germany yearly in connection with his father's confinement in a private lunatic asylum, and it is supposed that he then made the acquaintance of the girL The poetry found at the feet of Mr Steer, addressed "To My Darling," and which was not revealed at the inquest, consists of four verses couched in the most impassioned language. Here as elsewhere in his more private writings the one theme is his wife, on whom he lavished the most tender expressions. On Monday during the enquiry the Coroner, after being told that Mr Stoer, senior, was in an asylum, asked the deceased man's brother whether his mother WWI alive. In reply, witnes.ssaid he would like to know if the question was necessary, and the solicitor for the family (Mr Day) observed that it opened up a very painful matter. At the inquest Superintendent Farmery spoke to receiving a telegram on Saturday from Mr of Leeds. in consequence of which he went to the deceased's lodgings. He there became posekssed of a letter which the deceased had sent to his mother-in-law, who was already at the lodgings with a private detective. In this letter the man said that his companion had come from London to die with him. "Letters ' would be found on his body which would prove that he was no murderer. He had had enough of the world, and was going on a voyage with the simple and earnest determination with which one generally travelled.' Witness and others then proceeded to Carkering Wood, at Chartham. Theie were no 'signs of a struggle. On the woman's hand there were four rings, one a , wedding ring. A letter, from which the following , are extracts, was found upon the deceased:—