Those who have read the sad story of Ellen Yates will know that she was employed as a mill hand in Birkenhead, according to her death certificate.
I had assumed she must have travelled there by horseback, or even walking. Somebody else suggested that she may have had lodgings in Birkenhead, which is also possible.

It is unlikely we will ever know for certain how she travelled to work and how often, but I wanted to look further into it.

I came across an advertisement in a copy of the Leigh Chronicle from 1856 showing train times and prices.

Leigh would probably still have been too far out for her to walk, though she did have family in Leigh at the time.

Culcheth Station wasn’t opened until 1884, after her death, which ruled out her travelling from there. I then found that another local station, Kenyon Junction Station, had been open to the public from 1831.

An estimate of the distance from where she lived (Hop Pole Farm) to Kenyon Junction is about two and a half miles, which she could have easily walked.
The train journey took one hour and forty minutes, meaning a long day for her if this was the method she used.
The Kenyon Junction Station was on the Liverpool to Manchester Line and there were many routes to Birkenhead mills available from Liverpool Crown Street Station.

Harold Houghton was born in 1890 in Croft when his father, Thomas, was 31 and his mother, Mary, was 28. He had four brothers and four sisters.
In 1911 he lived at The Old Noggin Inn, Risley with his parents, his brother and two of his sisters
He worked at the Albion Ironworks in Leigh.
On 2nd September 1914 he joined the 5th Rifle Brigade, A Company, 2nd Battalion
On 24 March 1915 he died of his wounds from the battle of Neuve Chapelle, aged 25.
He was buried at Croft Unitarian Chapel, the grave stone stating
‘He Died for his Country’s Honour’.

When George Daintith was born on 24 February 1892 in Culcheth, his father, Thomas, was 25 and his mother, Mary, was 21. He was christened at Newchurch on 17th April the same year.
His mother Mary passed away in 1906 and his father remarried in 1907. He had seven brothers and two sisters.
In 1911 he lived with his father, stepmother and four of his brothers at The Old Noggin Inn, Risley.

In April 1915, he joined Kitchener’s Army, enlisting in the 1st King’s Liverpool Regiment. After about a year’s training he was sent to the Front and was attached to the 251st Company Royal Engineers. He was killed in action on June 25th, 1916, in the ‘great push’ near Albert.

Captain Hansen, R.E., in expressing his sympathy with his parents said:
‘Your son met his death on the night of June 25th while doing his duty, and I cannot speak too highly of his behaviour on this occasion, and ever since he joined this Company. I cannot say how deeply I felt his loss to my section, as he was one of my best men and could always be depended upon. He was a typical example of a true British Soldier, and died doing his duty to his King and Country and so great a cause. Your son was buried last night, and I have taken steps to have a cross placed upon his grave.’
A memorial service was held at Newchurch Parish Church on Sunday 23rd July 1916.
George is buried in Cambrin Military Cemetery.
Harold Houghton’s parents had a stone erected at Croft Unitarian Chapel in Harold’s grave space saying
'Private. George Daintith. In memory of Harold's comrade of the Liverpool Regiment, killed in France 25/06/1916'.

When William Whittle was born in 1889 in Culcheth, his father, William, was 29 and his mother, Ellen, was 21. He had two brothers.
In 1911 he lived and worked at Oakwood Farm, Risley with his parents and brothers.
He died on 14 June 1918 in France at the age of 29 and is buried at Terlincthun British Cemetery, Wimille.
He is remembered on the family grave at Croft Unitarian Chapel, the stone stating
​‘Duty Nobly Done’.

Royal Garrison Artillery. Died on 9th July 1920, aged 42.
​Son of Samuel and Mary Yates; husband of Lizzie Hankin Yates, of Longford Cottages, Longford, Warrington.

South Lancashire Regiment, transferred to as Private 584377, Labour Corps.
On 19th December 1918 he was admitted to the Military Hospital, Warrington with influenza and pneumonia. He passed away at 16:50 hours on the 26th November 1918. His history was of being unwell after he was gassed by mustard gas in France four months prior and he had chest trouble ever since.
He was the son of John and was the husband of Bertha, remarried to Andrews, of Little Town, Croft. He had two children, Thomas and Vera.

PRIVATE F FAULKNER
South Lancashire Regiment
​Died 16th March 1918

SERGEANT CYRIL WHITTLE
Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve
Died 23rd April 1944

PRIVATE JOHN CLARK PICK
Manchester Regiment
Died 31st May 1940

PRIVATE JOSHUE RICHARD CLEWORTH
King's Own (Royal Lancaster Regiment)
Died 25th November 1918

DRUMMER G LOCKE
Leinster Regiment
Died 8th May 1920

PRIVATE ARTHUR MONKS
Royal Army Service Corps
Died 18th January 1921

GUARDSMAN HUGH ARTHUR WOOD
Welsh Guards
Died 29 August 1921

PRIVATE W B MIDDLETON
Leicestershire Regiment
Died 29th March 1921

SERJEANT JOHN BUCHANAN
Royal Army Medical Corps
Died 27th October 1918

​George Newbrook, better known under his nom de plume of ‘Sammy Buttercup’ was a prolific writer of Lancashire Sketches. His humorous productions appeared in newspapers and literary supplements week by week up to the time of his death.
​Over 130 of his Lancashire Sketches were printed in the Leigh Chronicle, including ‘Grond Dooins at Croft’ and ‘Little Billy’ as well as a series under the title ‘Th’ Jubilee Debatin’ Club’ which also appeared in the Liverpool Weekly Post.
Sammy was in great request for recitations and comic sketches at local parties and social gatherings where his ready wit but quiet and unassuming manner made him invariably a universal favourite.

He sadly died on 20th February 1890. After his burial the Liverpool Daily Post wrote –

Yesterday, the mortal remains of George Newbrook, better known throughout Lancashire, and, indeed, the whole of the United Kingdom, as Sammy Buttercup, were interred in the churchyard of Croft, near Warrington.

Sammy has been ailing for a considerable time, the first symptoms of what has proved to be a fatal illness showing themselves so long ago as September last. He continued to grow weaker, and gradually lost the use of his eyesight, and became unable to read or write. He rallied somewhat towards the end of January, but catching cold early in the present month, he relapsed, and died on the 20th inst.

Sammy was born in Manchester on the 5th March 1835, and had thus almost completed his fifty-fifth year. He is survived by a widow and a grown-up family.

Widely known as Sammy’s writings were, few could claim to have a personal acquaintance with him; indeed, his personality was a mystery to many. A quiet, unassuming man, one would not readily suppose that his was the hand that wrote so many mirth-provoking tales.

In the small cottage at Croft where Sammy spent the latter days of his life, he composed some of the wittiest anecdotes. Brimful of that humour which pleases best of all, because it came naturally and without any apparent effort, Sammy’s favourite couplet

“Grief to our coffin adds a nail, no doubt;
Whilst every grin, so merry, draws one out.”

Expresses in small compass his own genial and lovable disposition. He was a great reader, and thought much on what he read; yet this passion for reading and writing with which he was possessed contributed in no small degree to his untimely death.
He moved in a very lowly sphere of life, and thus it is that his writings will endear him in the memory of that class in particular. He was not lacking in conversational powers, as an hour’s conversation with him would amply testify. His mind was stored with a large amount of general knowledge, from which he could draw to an unlimited extent.

Our Croft correspondent writes: - “A well-known person has been removed by the band of death from amongst the inhabitants of Croft, Mr. George Newbrook, the original “Sammy Buttercup” and Lancashire sketch writer, having died at his residence at Millhouse Brow, Croft, about 20 minutes past 11 o’clock on Thursday morning last, at the age of 54 years. Some months ago he broke a blood vessel, and was confined to his house for a short time, and was attended to by Dr. Sephton, of Culcheth, when he recovered a little, though he has never been in very good health since. He was, however, taken worse a few weeks ago, and gradually became weaker, and died as stated.

He was a man of very quiet disposition, and will be regretted by a large circle of friends amongst whom he visited. His funeral took place at Christ Church, Croft, on Sunday afternoon last, the ceremony being performed by the rector, the Rev. T. P. Kirkman. Several friends from Leigh and Croft were present to witness the funeral ceremony at the church.

Aw'm beawn to tell yo a bit ov a tale abeawt a chap at Croft, that bootiful little sitty ut lics abeawt six mile fro Leighth, 3,022 fro New York, an five fro Warrinton.

Neaw aw may as weel tell yo as heaw Croft's a varry aynshunt place, an th' reeason on't not bein menshund i'th Hist'ry o' Hinglond is bocose thoose ut wrote it didno goo to th' trubble o' payin it a visit to mak enquiries.

Neaw iv yo'll look i' Scriptur yo'll find it sez summat abeawt Moses bein fun i' some bullrushes, but it doesno say eggsactly wheer thoose rushes wur; but, iv aw remember reight, thoose rushes wur asoide o' where th' Booard Skoo is neaw, tho' th' rushes wur taen away mony a year sin to mak porayter hampers on.

Then agean, in another place, yo'll find summat abeawt Jonah swallerin a whale; but that's sich greyt while sin ut thers no trace left i' Croft o' noather Jonah nor t' whale, an th' lond bein plow'd up so mich so as to plant green peighs an carrots, its mich iv they ever find ony trace on't.

In another place yo find it menshund abeawt Jacob's ladder. Neaw thers a greyt mony ladders i' Croft, an they'n getten mixt up so mich ut thers no tellin which wur Jacob's ladder.

Neaw thers an owd smithy at Croft-bin theer monya hunderd year -- an accordin to th' Hist'ry o' Lankesher, it wur at this smithy wheer Oliver Crummell stopt to get shoon put on his hosses when he wur on his rode to Preston. When th' hosses ud getton their shoon on, he marcht his army to Leighth, an ther wur feet marks ov his cannon wheels uppoth hee rode for mony a year after, but thers no trace left on um neaw.
Oliver Crummell stopt o neet at th' King's Arms, Leighth, an th' next mornin, after he'd blown Whalley Abbey deawn, an Windleshaw Abbey, Sant Helen, he marcht his sowgers to l'reston.

Aw'm gettin off mi tale a bit, but as Croft wur a varry nooated place i' owden toimes, an nob'dy seeums to know mich abeawt it at th' present toime, aw think its just as weel to gie my readers a bit ov a descripshun on't.

It's not a varry largely-populated place, an at th'present toime its mooastly populated wi men, wimmin,an childer. Ov course thers a toothri hosses an keaws,an a toothri pigs an fowl, an loikewoise horn'd ponies an a four-legg'd cock, but aw dunno want to enter into nat’ral hist’ry.

Neaw ther's some varry owd inhabitants at Croft - some on ums bin livin theer ever sin they flit fro some-wheer else, au some's lived theer o ther loif-an its varry seldom ut a deeath taks place theer, becose its sich a healthy little spot.
Yo seen they get th' sea breeze fro th' Isle o' Mon every mornin bi t’ fust train, an th' climate theer doesno vary so mich-thermometers theer never goo deawn aboon 90 degrees below zero i'winter, nor aboon 327 n ‘arf i' summer.

Ther isno a doctor for miles, becose they dunno need ony. Thers noather warkheawses, ragged skoos, infirmaries, nor prisons, an th' inhabitants behave theirsels so weel ut it nobbut needs one poleesmon.

Some foak may happen think ut thers no building at Croft nobbut a toothri farm-heawses ; but lemmi tell yo ut thers a grond brewery theer, wi twelve acres ov a orchard attatch'd to't, wheer they con get moor gooseberries i'th seeason nor what ud mak apple dumpling enuf to feed o Lankesher.

Then thers a Church, a Catholic Chapel, a Unitarian Chapel, a Booard Skoo, a Pooast Offis, a Penny Bank, a Burial Society, Horticultural Society, an a Oldfellas' Lodge, but aw conno understond these Oddfellas at o, becose they're welly o married men.
Th' "Charge of the Light Brigade" took place at Croft. Aw dunno meean thoose " noble six hundred, becose ther wur aboon six theausand o' these, an Paddy Flynn wur chargin un wi a leeted candle an a toastin-fork, an it wur set deawn i' hist'ry as th' " Massacre of the Innocents."

Th' Battle o' Wayterloo wur fowten somewhere between Charley Wild's Farm an th' General Elliot Hotel, an th' Hindyun Mutiny took place in a field belungin to Measter Sankey.

Dick Turnip stopt o neet at Croft when he wur on his rode fro Lunnon to York, an th' Mail Coach fro Liverpool to Jerusalem used to stop three days so as th'passengers could goo o' getherin strawberries.

Ther used to be a deol o' weyvin an fustin-cuttin i'Croft, an th' King o' Shanty onest went theer to be mezzerd for a numbrell an a pair o' breeches.

Aw've just dropt across a bit o' poetry abeawt Croft, ut wur written bi oather Lungfella or Shortfella, somewheer abeawt th' toime o'th fust Revolushun i'Seringapotater, so aw'l just gie yo a copy on't :-

CROFT
Thers a little spot co'd Croft,
O, aw've bin theer varry oft,
Its as nice a little spot as e'er wur seen ;
With its ripplin brooks an rills,
With joy my heart it fills,
An its grond i' summer, when its fields are green.

Thers ponies theer wi horns,
A farmer plagued wi corns,
An a cock ut struts abeawt wi four legs ;
A clock i'th frunt o'th skoo,
Tho' too lazy for to goo,
An a duck they sen ut oft lays gowden eggs.
 
Then thers Polly Ann McGuire,
With a yead as red as foyar,
Thers Paddy Flynn an Jeremy O'Neil ;
An thers little Jonty Roe,
Wi a blister on his toe,
An a greyt big mustard playster on his heel.
 
Thers a farmer theer wi't gout,
An his woife waynt let him out,
An a widder woman wi a wooden leg,
An then thers Jemmy G .,
Sometoimes he gets on th' spree,
An tho' wealthy oftoimes bacco he will beg.
 
Thers another chap --- Pee Heyes --
He's a boy for heytin peighs,
An little Sammy Yates goos killin pigs ;
Then thers little Jemmy Shaw,
He loikes a bit o' jaw,
An he's varry fond o' doncin Irish jigs.
 
An thers Charley Wild -aw'm sure
He is a perfect cure-
But as good a bit o' comp'ny as yo'il find ;
He could tell yo mony a tale
As ud mak yo'r face turn pale,
An he sez keaws' tails are allus hung behind.
 
Jemmy Johnson keeps a farm,
An he's seven cats i'th barn,
He sez he keeps um theer the rats to scare;
Then thers Roddy wi his gun,
Sometoimes he has some fun --
He one toime kill'd a hedgehog for a hare.

But to mi tale.

Little Billy warks at that smithy " hereinbefore menshund," as th' lawyers sez. He's a varry quiet an daysent soart ov a chap, an aw'm sartin his woife's getten a good husband.

Neaw Billy wauks abeawt two mile to his wark in a mornin an two mile back agean at neet, an he's never missin nobbut when he's absent.

His measter wanted to goo whoam a bit sooner tother day, so he towd Billy to put th' hoss i'th trap, an he went to get a gill o' ale while Billy geet it raddy.

After he'd bin i'th aleheawse abeawt hauve an heawr, he went eawt to see what Billy wur doin, an he fun him stondin theer lookin gradely puzzled.
"Is it raddy yet, Billy ?" th' measter axt.
" Aye, aw think it'll do neaw, " sed Billy.
" But what's this doin here ?" th' measter sed, when he seed th' hoss's collar lyin uppoth floor.
" Why, aw couldno find a place for that," sed Billy, "an aw thowt it ud happen do witheawt."
" But it'll not do witheawt," sed his measter, "look sharp an get it on, becose aw want to be gooin."
" Wheer does it goo!" sed Billy, as he poikt th'collar up an lookt at it.
" Why, it goos on it neck, to be sure," sed his measter, an then he went in for another gill.

Billy pood th' yead gear off th' hoss an tried to put th' collar on, but he kept th' narrow eend up, an for o he kept thrutchin an swattin, an welly shuved th' hoss i'th doytch, he couldno get th' collar o'er it yead.

" Aw'll be heng'd iv aw con understond this," sed Billy to hissel, as he stared fust at th' collar an then th'hoss's vead, "this here's oather gone less or else th'hoss's yead's gone bigger.But it happen doesno goo o'er it yead, " he sed, as a fresh thowt struck him.
Then he took th' hoss eawt o'th trap, an geet booath it hinder legs throo t' collar, an tried to get it on that rode, but it wur no use, for when he geet it up to it tail he couldno get it no furr.

"Its no use tryin, " he sed to hissel, as he clapt th'collar uppoth floor, "thers summat wrang somewheer. Aw darst bet th’ Bank o’ Hinglond, Iv aw had it, ut that hoss wern't mezzer'd for this collar.'

Th' measter coom cawt agean in a bit to see iv trap wur raddy, but it wur just same as it wur afoar.
" Hasn to getten that collar on yet, Billy ?" he sed.
" Nawe, " sed Billy, "an aw'd loike to see th' chap as con put it on.
"Put it on ? Why, it goos on yezzy enuf," sed th' measter, as he geet howd o'th collar and slipt it o'er th' hoss's yead, an Billy stood starein at him loike a thunner-struck grasshopper.
 
Billy couldno gie o’er thinkin abeawt th' hoss's collar. It wur th' topmost thing in his mind o neet, in fact he actily dreamt abeawt it that neet, geet up in his sleep, an wakken'd th' woife wi tryin to shuve th' hondle o'th kettle o'er her yead.
Then ther wur a gradely flare-up, becose th' woife thowt as heaw he wur tryin to murder her, till Billy wakken'd an towd her abeawt th' hoss's collar.

Heawever, things are o reight agean neaw, an Billy ul know heaw to put a collar on i' futur.

John Monks was born in 1815 to George and Ann Monks at Monk House, Newton-le-Willows. He was baptised at Risley Chapel on 12th February that year.
He married Lucy Dickinson on 12th June 1836 at All Saints Church in Wigan. 

John’s younger sister Alice Monks had married Francis Duffield, who was a home missionary at the Salford church. The couple were leaving for Australia with their son William and John took the opportunity for a new start and decided to join them. They sailed on the ship 'Delhi' from Liverpool, arriving in Australia on 20th December 1839.

​John vowed that if God prospered him in his new country, he would build a church. He did prosper and built Shady Grove Unitarian School and Church in 1845.
John married Priscilla Appleton (also from Lancashire, sailing in 1839 on a different ship) in 1850 and they had ten children. 

Unfortunately, John and Priscilla were still to suffer some personal hardships. On 24th December 1854, their son John passed away aged just 9 months. In 1863, their daughter Emmeline died, aged 3 years and 10 months. Their youngest daughter Emma passed away aged 20 in May 1889. John himself died in November that year.
They were all buried at the Shady Grove Unitarian Church Cemetery.
​
The church still stands today and is still active. The building is listed with the South Australia Heritage Register.

​Enoch William Sankey was born in Croft in February 1856 to Enoch and Eliza Sankey (nee Dootson).
He grew up at Heath Farm with his parents and his older half-brother, Reginald Owen.

In 1872 he set up business at Heath Farm, with £500 cash from his mother. He then received around £6 – 7,000 in capital from his father’s estate, as well as the General Elliot Hotel, a cottage and more land.

He married Mary Ann Millner on September 13th 1881, at Christ Church in Croft. They had eight children together, Annie, Gwendoline, Ernest , Sydney, Dorothy, Margaret, Lilian and Charles.

In 1892 Enoch purchased Heath Farm and it’s land, as well as Eaves Brow Farm, Croft and Cross Lane Farm, Culcheth for £7038. He also acquired New Hay Farm for £4200.
He continued in business as a farmer and was “one of the best known horse dealers in the North of England”.  He was a member of the Southworth with Croft School Board for a number of years.
He carried out extensive business across the country and made large profits.
Enoch lived an extravagant life involving frequent travelling abroad, motor cars and racing trips and was a well-known and much liked gentleman.

In 1911 his unsecured debts were £12878 and his free assets just £900. He was subject to a bankruptcy hearing in July 1912 at Warrington, which ran through to October.

He stayed at Heath Farm after bankruptcy and even continued in horse dealing, as he was summoned to court for a contravention of the Defence of the Realm Act in 1918 after selling a horse without a licence earlier that year.


There is little information available after 1918, but it seems that the family moved to Sale as he passed away there on 2nd November 1928 and was cremated at Manchester Crematorium.

LEFT TO RIGHT
BACK ROW: SIDNEY, ENOCH, ANNIE, REGINALD OWEN (ENOCH'S HALF BROTHER), ANNIE OWEN (DAUGHTER OF REGINALD), THOMAS PARK (SON-IN-LAW OF REGINALD)
​FRONT ROW: ERNEST, REGINALD SANKEY OWEN (SON OF REGINALD), FANNY LEES (DAUGHTER-IN-LAW OF REGINALD), MARY ANN (HOLDING MARGARET), GWENDOLINE, LILIAN, DOROTHY

SAD OCCURRENCE: DASTARDLY CONDUCT OF A MARRIED MAN

A most painful event occurred at Newton on Monday last, casting a gloom over the whole neighbourhood.

This was the suicide by drowning of a most respectable young woman, named Elizabeth Gleave, aged only 18, domestic servant of Mr. Barclay, one of the overseers at McCorquodale’s printing works.
​
It appears that she and a young man names Michael Ward have been courting, but for some reason or other he refused to go out with her last Sunday. An acquaintance of Michael Ward, a married man named John Jones, who was aware that there was some little lover’s quarrel between the young folks, went and told Lizzie that he knew why Michael would not take her out, and if she would go with him, he would show her the reason for it.

Either by direct expression or by inuendoes, he led the young woman to believe that Michael was walking out with another girl, and if she would go with him, he would take her where she could have ocular demonstration of her lover’s supposed delinquency. Lizzie took Jones at his word and went out with him. Jones took her round by Hermitage Green to Winwick, where he persuaded her to enter the Swan Inn and have some drink, which took such effect upon her as to render her partially insensible.

He then took her in the direction of Newton, but what took place on the road no one can tell. Certain it is that the poor girl was exceedingly ill and sick. Her belief that her lover was untrue to her, and the shame to which she had been brought by Jones, prayed so much on the poor girl’s mind, that after writing two letters of farewell – one to her lover Michael Ward, and the other to her young mistress, Miss Barclay – she committed suicide by throwing herself into the ornamental lake at Newton, on Monday. 

Miss Barclay, entering the house after the unfortunate young woman had left, found the letters, and seeing one directed to herself, she opened it, and discovered that poor Lizzie, whom they had looked upon as almost one of their own, had destroyed herself.

Lizzie had indicated in her letter to Miss Barclay the spot where she intended throwing herself into the lake, and upon Miss Barclay immediately putting herself in communication with the police, the lake was dragged, and the body found at the exact place mentioned by the unfortunate girl.

The inquest was held yesterday before C. E. Driffield, Esq., at the Blue Lion, Newton, when the above facts were given in evidence. The jury returned a verdict of ‘Suicide while in a state of temporary insanity.’

The coroner praised Michael Ward, the lover, for the honest and straightford manner in which he had given evidence; but administered a severe censure upon John Jones, the married man, for the manner in which he behaved to the girl. The following is the unfortunate girls farewell to her lover: -

Newton, May 2, 1870
My dear Michael,
​
When you get this I shall be no more. You may guess the cause of my death. I never thought when we first met what would be the result of it. I suppose you know all about Sunday night. I only wish I had known before, it might have saved me; but now, as it is not what I hoped for, it is no use living. You have my heart; and oh, that I might have had yours, Oh, that we had never met, for to part is death to me. I did not think that you would prove so false to me as it seems you have done. You ought never to have thought of me when you had another – whom, I hope, you will not forsake, but ​will make your wife. Mend your ways, dear Michael, and give one thought to me, whose heart you have broken. Our acquaintance was not long, and I will now say farewell.

Yours ever,
LIZZIE GLEAVE

INQUEST AT CROFT

Mr. F. H. Jones, deputy coroner, held an inquest on Friday afternoon, at the Plough Inn, regarding the death of Edward Monoghan, of Heath Lane, Croft, whose body was found on Thursday morning in a pit on the farm occupied by Mr. James Thomason, Heath Lane.

Mr. Cawthorne was appointed foreman of the jury.

The first witness called was Jane Monoghan, widow of the deceased, who deposed that her husband was 40 years of age, and was a coachman in the employ of Mr. E. W. Sankey, Heath Farm.

The deceased had been in bad health for some time and had been medically attended by Dr. Sephton. He had been off his work from the 4th January till a few days ago. He had been very much troubled with pains in the head, and had remarked that if they did get better he would make an end of himself, but she did not think he was in earnest when he said that. She last saw him alive on Thursday morning, when he left to go to his work.

John Ingham, employed by Mr. J. Thomason, farmer, said about eight o’clock on Thursday morning he saw the body lying face downwards in a pit close to the farm buildings. He informed his master. F. C. Butler, who was sent for, was quickly on the spot, and the body was at once recovered, but life was found to be extinct.

The jury returned a verdict of ‘Suicide while in an unsound state of mind.’
​
The funeral took place on Sunday afternoon at St. Lewis R.C Church. In addition to the relatives etc., the fellow workmen of the deceased employed by Mr. E. W. Sankey preceded the body to the churchyard, and after the funeral ceremony placed upon the grave a costly artificial wreath bearing the following inscription: “A token of respect from his employer and fellow workmen at Heath Farm, Croft.”
Mrs. Monoghan is left with seven young children.