Melancholy catastrophe

In Saffron-street, Martha Winter, who cut her throat with her husband’s razor. Those who appeared to give their evidence before the coroner’s jury, could say no more than that the deceased and her husband lived in the utmost harmony. She had borne him two children, one of whom was about two years of age, and the other only seven weeks. It appeared, that the man in whose house they lived owed some rent; and the deceased dreaded that their effects would be seized upon, as she appeared to be very uneasy about it the preceding day. On the morning of the melancholy catastrophe, before her husband went out, at half past six, she got up, and put on her petticoat, tied her neck-kerchief, then kissed him, and said, “God bless you! God bless you! I know we‘ll not be left a bed to sleep on.” The husband answered, “Make your self easy, we shall fare as well as the other lodgers.” He then went to work, and, at his return to breakfast, about half past eight, found her stretched on the floor, quite dead.