The Sun. — 1853-09-23 (London, England)

LOVE, DESPERATION, AND DEATH IN  AMERICA.  SUICIDE OF TWO YOUNG LADIES AT MANCHESTER, NEW HAMPSHIRE.—PREMEDI. TATION AND COOLNESS UNEQUALLED. About eight o'clock on Sunday evening, August 14, two young ladies, operatives in the mills, committed sui cide by drowning, the particulars of which are as fol. low : One of them was Miss Catherine B. Cotton, of Pow. nal, Maine, aged 22 ; the other, Miss Clara C. Coch. rane, aged 19, a native of New Boston, but who had lately been at home with her brother at Hopkinton. They roomed together at No. 24, Manchester Corporation, this city, and had frequently expressed a purpose to drown themselves, but their friends had no apprehension that such was their design. For a few days previous they had talked freely of doing so, and communicated their intention to a room-mate, but still without creating any alarm. As they left their boardinghouse late in the evening, however, the lady rooming with them followed, and watched them. They proceeded hand-in-hand, and with great apparent cheerfulness, to the bridge crossing the upper canal leading to the Manchester Mills, stopped together upon the stone wall of the canal, just above the bridge, and together leaped into the water. The act was seen by one or two persons, and the alarm was instantly given, though 10 minutes elapsed before either was taken out. In that time the body of Miss Cotton was recovered ; that of Miss Cochrane, having floated down the canal, was not recovered for some time after. All efforts to resuscitate them failed. Miss Cochrane, for some days previous, had been very much depressed and low-spirited. Their whole proceedings were marked by great coolness and deliberation. Both of them left letters to their friends announcing their purpose, and giving directions in regard to the settlement of their affairs and the disposal of their effects. Miss Cochrane, we understand, was to come into possession of several thousand dollars at 21 years of age. Various rumours are afloat in regard to the cause of this rash act. From all we can learn it is to be ascribed in both cases to the grief of disappointed love. Miss Cochrane enclosed in her letter the following scrap of poetry, which, no doubt, expressed her feelings at the time of writing : " I shall soon in death be sleeping, Far away, where strangers dwell, Far from all those haunts of pleasure That in youth I loved so well. Flow'rs shall not be o'er me planted, Nor shall willows o'er me wave • Marble columns, decked with grandeur, Ne'er shall mark my humble grave. " Friends will shed no tears of sadness When my dream of life is o'er, For around me all are strangers— I am on a distant shore. Hear me, then, oh friends of childhood, Hear an exile's dying prayer ; When I soar to climes Elysian, Let me meet my loved ones there. "My heart now droops in loneliness— My misery's perfect now • For dark Despair his seal has stamp'd Upon my throbbing brow.; No voices in affections tones Upon my ears now fall ; Alone I tread the path of life— I am the last of all.  " I would not have proud marble piled Above my grassy bed ; One simple stone to mark the spot, And one to weep me dead." The body of Miss Cochrane was placed on board the cars and conveyed to her friends. The public mind, as is natural, is anxious to know the causes of such strange proceedings. Was it disappointed love ? Was it shame for past acts ? Or was it fear of bringing disgrace upon themselves and friends ? A tattling, surmising, evilminded class in the community simultaneously cry the last. But we are authorised to say, and feel warranted in saying, that such surmises are all false. Disappointed love was the cause, and the only cause, that brought about such sad and fatal results ; not a late disappointment, but in the case of one of them wearing and preying upon the mind for some fourteen months, so that almost nightly her pillow was bathed in tears. The following letter, written by her, and addressed to Cyrus -, Biddeford, Me., has been found, and tells its own story :  "Manchester, August 14,_ 1853,  " I now for the last time will attempt to scribble you a few lines, and ere those few lines reach you I shall be sleeping in death. Think not that I shall ever trouble you again with a letter, for I shall not. No, this is the last. You will receive this with anger perhaps ; but, Cyrus, forgive me for troubling you. I have forgiven you long ago, but have not forgotten. I suppose you are in Biddeford now, happy and contented. I hope you are. As for myself, I am not happy, but in a few moments I shall be free from the sorrows of this world, and I cannot be more unhappy in another. When you read this think that I am cold in death, and shall one day meet you in another world. So farewell, Cyrus; go and be happy. " From your friend and well-wisher, "