Born in 1867, Samuel was the ninth child of parents, James and Eliza Hutton. His parent had married on 11th February 1849 and Eliza had given birth to her first child, Jane, in January 1850. In 1851, they welcomed John into the family but two years later and in 1853, Jane would sadly pass away.
Six more additions into the family would come between the years 1853 to 1866 - Andrew, Alice, Charles, William, Thomas and David before the arrival of Samuel in 1867.
As you can see, it was a relatively large family but one that appeared from the outside to be a well loved and respected family.
On the morning of Tuesday, 8th August, 1871 - Samuel, like many young children, had awoken and after having his breakfast, had played with other children of similar age. He would spend a large portion of the day in and out of the house he had shared with his brothers and sisters.
However, at around 5pm, Samuel went into a house at Brookside which was owned by Elizabeth Scholes where his mother Eliza had visited and was baking a cake.
Laying down on the floor, he flung his legs around as if they didn’t belong to his body - something Elizabeth would go on to tell at the later inquest.
When laid down, Elizabeth said to Samuel, 'Sammy, if you fall asleep there I shall put you under the stairs, where the dog sleeps.'
Samuel, seemingly a little disgruntled, sat up and looked at Elizabeth and then his mother.
'Get up and go into the house and lay you down on the sofa,' said his mother, Eliza.
Samuel got himself up off the floor and did as his mother had asked.
Between six and seven o' clock, and when Eliza had returned home, Elizabeth visited the Hutton's house and noticed Samuel laying on the sofa and sleeping. She then visited again around eight o'clock having gone on an errand, and Samuel was laying in the same place.
Samuel would go on to having a restless night, often waking in a sweat, shivering and seemingly in pain, and at two o' clock he had asked his mother for a drink of tea and a 'butty.'
Between half-past four and five o' clock in the morning, Elizabeth was woken by Eliza and asked if she would go and look on Samuel and offer any advice on how to ease his pain.
'Well, if we give him a little castor oil it would do him no harm.' she would tell Eliza.
After administering a teaspoonful of the oil, Eliza said to her husband James, 'Jimmy, you will have to go to Bury, as our Sammy is a deal worse.' James put on his jacket and then went out to fetch Dr. Harris from nearby Bury.
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♪♬ Tender Remains - Myuu - No Copyright Music
♪♬ Casual Desire - Ugonna Onyekwe - No Copyright Music
♪♬ Contact - The Tower of Light - No Copyright Music
"Ta-ta. You won't see me again. Im going to shoot my wife and baby," - those were the last words spoken by 26-year old, Henry King on Friday 12th December 1958 to an acquaintance named Sheila Whipp at the Dun Horse Hotel in Blackburn.
Her reply to such a statement was simple enough, "don't be stupid."
King then handed her a small looking object that she initially believed to have been nothing more than a cigarette lighter.
The object was in fact a bundle of around twenty-five bullet cartridges.
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♪♬ Exhale - Myuu - No Copyright Music
♪♬ Lake of Memories - Myuu - No Copyright Music
♪♬ Casual Desire - Ugonna Onyekwe - No Copyright Music
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As the light of day slowly began to fade away, the darkness that quickly descended brought with it a freezing chill that had already frozen a large area of deep water which had been left dormant at the foot of a quarry named the Tim Bobbin delph.
Inside nearby houses, families where in full enjoyment of Christmas cheer, singing and dancing with some preparing themselves for their evening meals. And at number 2 Park Lane, just on the outskirts of Burnley, this is exactly what was happening within the home owned by Thomas Tattersall.
But all the happiness and joyful scenes would soon come to a terrifying end as, just before 4.30pm on the 26th December 1887, the lives of one family would be forever changed in the most tragic of ways.
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You can also watch our video, detailing the events that occurred in 1887 - https://youtu.be/KDG6H3d3QuM
When Blackburn Rovers went on to lift the Premier League title in dramatic circumstances on the 14th May 1995, it would be the culmination of 5 years' worth of investments by a local man named Jack Walker, a lifelong supporter who would eventually change the fortunes of one of the former founders of the football league.
Former Liverpool player and manager, Kenny Dalglish was appointed in October 1991, and as Rovers secured promotion to the FA Premier League at the end of the 1991-92 season as play-off winners, in 1992 they would make all the headlines by paying an English record fee of £3.5million for 22 year-old Southampton center forward, Alan Shearer.
But behind the scenes, talks had begun on transforming the stadium and bringing it more UpToDate and to compete with the so called 'big boys' of the Premier League.
The biggest stand at Ewood Park, and the home of Blackburn Rovers Football Club is named after its former owner, Jack Walker - who had sadly passed away in 2000. It is just one of three stands that were built during the Ewood Park's ground redevelopment in the early part of the 1900s.
But it was during its construction, a sinister secret would be unearthed that would rock the entire town of Blackburn and bring to an end a ten-year search.
On July 19th 1994, a workman called John Griffiths had been busy digging a boundary trench where a row of terraced houses that had been demolished along Nuttall Street had once stood. The morning had gone as normal, but he would soon be stopped in his tracks when the sight of a human head peered from under the rubble he was removing.
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♪♬ Shattered - Myuu - No Copyright Music
♪♬ On the Chain - Myuu - No Copyright Music
Just after 10am on the morning of Tuesday, 9th June 1896, a young boy burst into the workshop of John Coates and his son Thomas, which was situated along the cobbled road of Bridge-street, Accrington and just behind the now forgotten, Brown Cow public inn.
In a frenzied state of mind, the boy shouted, 'Oh, Mrs. Coates is murdered!'
Not sure what was happening, Mr. Coates replied back, 'Nothing of the sort.'
However, the young boy raised one of his arms and to the horror of Mr. Coates, what looked like fresh splatters of blood splatters could be seen.
Alarmed, Mr. Coates and his son, Thomas, left his workshop and made their way back to their home which was only a few minutes away on nearby Warner Street.
Upon their arrival, Mr. Coates quickly made his way upstairs and to his horror, his wife, Sarah, although alive, looked to be in a very distressing state and lying on the bedroom floor, only yards from the door. Upon closer inspection, it was clear she had suffered from a serious attack, with blood flowing freely from an open wound on her throat. She tried desperately to speak, but the injuries to her throat were so severe, she could only utter a few groans.
Thomas, who had followed his father upstairs and upon seeing his mother in such a pitiful state, rushed downstairs to a neighbour named Mrs. Bradley, who in turn sent for Dr. Monaghan.
Meanwhile, the boy who had alerted Mr. Coates and his son, Thomas, to the attack on Sarah, had himself set off to find a doctor, and in no time at all, he had arrived at the surgery of Dr. Clayton.
"There's been a murder in Warner-street," he would scream upon entering the surgery.
As particulars of the affair began to leak out, the identity of the perpetrator remained absolutely unknown, but it would soon transpire that a boy named Christopher Hindle who was just 15 years of age and a carpenters apprentice for both Mr. and Mrs. Coates, would soon become the center of attention - and it was this very same young boy who had raised the alarm at Mr. Coates workshop only half-an-hour so earlier!
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On the morning of Monday, November 10th 1890, 21-year old Elizabeth Holt had left her home in Dunscar to make her usual trek over to the school she was employed at in Belmont, which was roughly three miles away. But this would be the last time she would ever make the journey, and a tragedy so brutal in nature would soon unravel which would shock the residents of Bolton and nearby towns and villages.
As head mistress at Belmont National School near to Bolton, 21-year old, Elizabeth made the routinely walk from her home at number 532 Darwen Road, Turton and head towards an unfrequented country road known as Longworth Lane, a walk that would take around fifteen to twenty minutes to complete.
From here, it would take at least another hour or so before she would have reached the school.
But not long into the walk, Elizabeth would encounter something so sinister, so horrible to even contemplate, it would go unknown for almost 5 days - until that is, when her body would be discovered buried underneath an overhanging crag and covered in dead leaves and ferns.
It was Elizabeth's practice to leave her home on a Monday morning and return on the Friday evening. But it appears that the schoolmaster had assumed Elizabeth had been ill and she was not well enough to inform the school of her non-arrival.
Meanwhile, back at her home, her family thought nothing different and that Elizabeth had, as she had always done, arrived safely in Belmont and her place of work.
Four days past, and when Elizabeth failed to return home the following Friday, it was not until Saturday morning, 15th November, when Elizabeth's mother and sister became anxious about her absence.
Just after noon, a young friend of of Elizabeth's family had been sent over to Belmont on his bicycle to inquire about Elizabeth's whereabout's. After quickly hearing that she had not been to school at all during the week, he rushed back to inform her mother and sister.
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Casual Desire – Ugonna Onyekwe – No Copyright Music
Melancholia - Godmode - No Copyright Music - YouTube Audio Library
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When Moses Clayton's body was laid to rest on Saturday, 1st March 1919, it would close the book on one of Rossendale's most notorious villains. A character that had once terrorised an entire district with his brutality and drunken carefree attitude would no longer pose a threat to the townsfolk of Accrington, Bacup, Haslingden and Rawtenstall, as well as other places such as Whitworth and Todmorden.
Born in 1857 to parents James and Susannah, Moses was just one of nine siblings, and he had spent much of his childhood and early teens living in and around Crawshawbooth, within an area known as Lower Booths. In 1871, from the census records, we can see he was living at number 25 Holmes Terrace along with his father James, four brothers and three sisters. His mother had sadly passed away in 1870 at the age of 44.
Interestingly, one of the earliest accounts of Moses getting into any form of trouble appeared in 1870, the same year as his mother's death. The Manchester Courier and Lancashire General Advertiser ran a small story detailing how a young lad, just 13 years old, had been arrested and charged by Inspector Hargreaves at the Salford Police Court under the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. Moses had been found working a horse that was in an unfit condition. His employer, Mr. George Pullett, a coal dealer from Pendlebury,would eventually pay a fine of 40s.
Whilst this was obviously a serious charge, it would be nothing compared to what was to come.
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Beyond the Lows – The Whole Other – No Copyright Music
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Edge of Life - Myuu - No Copyright Music
On Saturday, 22nd December 1866, the body of a young woman aged 18 years was recovered from a lodge adjacement to Holden Wood cotton mill, that was owned by Mr. James Maxwell and situated in a place known as Holden Wood, near Haslingden.
At around half-past one in the afternoon, John Holgate, a spinner employed at Maxwell's mill, whilst passing by his place of work, had noticed something bobbing about just above the water level in a lodge that was within yards of the mill. Upon making his way over to the waters edge, it was then he saw the head of a young girl which was just above the water, with the remainder of her body submerged.
Already knowing the depth of the water in the lodge was quite deep, reportedly around nine feet, he knew that trying to recover the body himself was an almost impossible task, so Holgate left to fetch for another worker, who in turn went off to search for a policeman.
By the time a police officer had arrived, water from the nearby Holden Wood reservoir had been slowly filling the lodge, which in turn was by now submerging the victims head.
And yet despite a struggle, all three men succeeded in retrieving the body.
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Not since 1849 when Frederick and Maria Manning had been found guilty of murder, had a married couple been sentenced to death by the justice system. But 85 years later, on the 17th October 1935, James Henry Mills and his wife, Edith Mills would succumb to the very same fate after being sentenced at the Lancaster Assizes for a murder so brutal and ghoulish in nature, that what you are about to read and hear will ask more questions than it will give answers.
On Sunday, June 30th 1935, little Helen Chester, who was just three years old, had spent the early evening playing with other children near to her home at number 22 John Bright-street, Blackburn. But when she failed to return home, her worried parents, Phyllis and Charles, after searching for her themselves, informed the police and shortly after 8pm, Helen was officially reported as being missing.
An intensive search was made in the surrounding district, both by the police and by civilians. Mill lodges, buildings and workshops were searched but nothing was seen of Helen. Canals and ditches were dragged and a police presence was also made on the River Darwen.
The search for her would continue throughout the next day, but it wouldnt be until Tuesday morning, just before 7.00 am, when a breakthrough would be made.
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Ever since the death of her husband, Maurice, who had sadly passed away only two years prior in 1923; 82 year old Mary Ann O'Shea had lived alone at a place known as Tower Hill that was situated within the top end of a town called Haslingden, that lies within the boundaries of the Rossendale Valley.
Residing at number 11, Mary had lived in a pitifull and frightening condition. Her house was extremely basic, having just two rooms of which one included the basement.
Dampness, filth and grime had made living conditions a nightmare, not just for Mary, but for all of the other residents living at Tower Hill. And out of the 36 houses situated at Tower Hill, 16 of them had no real accomodation for food storage and a staggering 35 homes had no access for washing!
In fact, it was the basement that Mary would mainly use as she had suffered terribly from rheumatism and along with an ulcer on one of her legs, it had become too painful to walk up the stone steps to her other room.
From all accounts, Mary was a feeble old lady, often relying on the help of a single woman by the name of Margaret Flannagan, who would call on Mary to see how she was doing and if she needed any help.
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For six consecutive days, heavy rain had battered the hills surrounding Holmfirth, sending hundreds of tons of water streaming through the narrow gorges and several valleys down into the lowlands where it would be collected.
Normally, plenty of rainfall wouldn't be a problem and in fact would benefit the many large mills and cottages that were dotted alongside the hillside whose businesses were reliant on fast flowing water, and in the summertime, the true benefit of having such large amounts of water would become apparent as, when any prolonged dry spells occurred, it would often render many operational businesses redundant due to the lack of rain.
To solve such issues, a group of businessmen and mill owners formed the Holmfirth Reservoir Commissioners, which would ultimately construct a series of reservoirs - one being the Bilberry Reservoir that was situated around three and-a-half miles above Holmfirth.
Unfortunately, during the early house of Thursday, October 5th, 1852 - the embankment, after withstanding days of severe rainfall, suddenly breached, sending an estimated 86 million gallons of water thundering down the Holme Valley, along the River Holme and towards the small picturesque town of Holmfirth, and the decision to plug the discovered spring would prove to be a fateful one.
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During the autumn of 1950, residents within the sleepy village of Ewood Bridge were shocked to have learnt of the brutal murder of a young Yugoslavian man, whose body had been discovered within a platelayers cabin that was situated just a few yards away from the East Lancashire Railway line.
On the 9th of October, a man by the name of Alvar Howarth was making his usual trek to the cabin, which was someway off the beaten track, ready to begin his shift as a platelayer, or in simple terms, an employee who inspects and maintains railway lines. Having to walk along within inches of the East Lancashire Railway line, he would soon arrive at his place of work.
The cabin was nothing more than a small wooden hut, and was situated just off an embankment that was only several feet from the main railway line.
On entering, he instantly noticed the body of another work colleague, lying face down on the cold floor, with his head facing towards a fire place.
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More than a century after his death, the ghost of James Maybrick would rise from his grave in an explosion of furor and excitement that would rock the foundations of many crime historians, lecturers and most certainly wannabe detectives, all of whom had spent decades trying to uncover the real identity of the world's most notorious murderer, the grandfather of the modern day serial killer, if you will; that of Jack the Ripper.
Back in 1991, a 'diary' was uncovered, lying dormant underneath the floorboards of a bedroom within 'Battlecrease House', the former home of James and his wife Florence.
The room in question was James Maybrick's bedroom, and the place he had spent the last few weeks of his life in excruciating pain, suffering from acute poisoning that would eventually claim his life. But it was whilst Battlecrease House underwent some renovation work, workmen came across the diary; a leather bound scrap-book, with many pages missing but containing 63 pages of legible writing with around 9,000 written words.
The diary itself is perhaps one of the most intriguing and possibly most important historical pieces of work to ever be discovered in terms of its importance in solving the most unsolvable puzzles of all time - who was Jack the Ripper? But for this, we need to delve into the life of James Maybrick.
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Shortly after three o'clock on the morning of Tuesday, 3rd January 1882, a murder so savage in nature occurred at number 4, Brook Row over in a place known as Lowerhouse near to Burnley.
A man by the name of Robert Templeton, who was 36 years of age had arrived in Lowerhouse around nine months prior, sometime around April, 1881. He quickly managed to find employment as a machine printer, working for A. Drew and Sons.
Although quite in nature, he still managed to keep on friendly terms with most of his acquaintances and was known for being an excellent time keeper as well as a reliable workman.
Not too long after arriving in Lowerhouse, he managed to find lodgings within the home of Betty Scott, a widower who was just 33 year old, and mother to three children; one boy - John, who was eleven years of age, and two girls - Martha Ann, aged nine and Hannah aged three.
Having married at a young age to a man called William Scott, who sadly died in October 1876, she had fought bravely to look after herself and her family, by taking in other people's washing, and as well as lodgers.
Having resided in the village since a child, Betty was a well-known and well-liked by the majority and was generally considered as one of the most industrious, clean and hard working women in the area.
Not too long after taking up lodgings with Betty, it appears that some form of romantic friendship had begun between the pair, and it was rumoured that they were soon to be married.
However, as time passed, Robert had began to drink heavily, leaving Betty feeling ashamed, deceived and at times, ill-treated.
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When the Titanic finally lost its battle with the North Atlantic sea and disappeared into the abyss below the waves, it was and still is one of the worst maritime disasters to ever take place. Taking with it over 1,500 lives, it is without a doubt one of the most famous tragedies in modern day history.
The story itself is well known. Nicknamed the "unsinkable ship", after having departed Southampton, England on the 10th April 1912, the Titanic set sail on its maiden voyage to travel to New York City.
The ship had contained a mixture of class of passenger, from millionaires and businessmen, to the lower class of society who were eager to begin a new life in America.
But just five days into the journey, disaster struck when the ships starboard side scraped alongside a giant iceberg that had already been reported floating around 400 nautical miles south off the coast of Newfoundland, Canada.
The rest, as we know is history, and the story of the Titanic has been written in many books, as well as turned in movies and documentaries, with some perhaps adding mythology into the mix.
And this brings us to the story of a small group of courageous men, and one in particular, who have quite rightly become the epitome of the heroics that took place during that frightening and devastating morning on Monday, 15th April, 1912.
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On the morning of Friday, 2nd December 1904, the people of Burnley, would be shocked to their very core when police finally forced their way into number 20 Stock-street and the bodies of a man and a women would be discovered lying in pools of blood, both with their throats cut.
But whilst news of this shocking discovery was quickly circulating throughout the town, some residents of Stock-street had already witnessed a brief and horrific scene as a man by the name of Michael Walsh had appeared at the front of his house, brandishing a blood-soaked razor, before returning inside.
Hearing screams emanating from inside the house, one of the neighbours went off in search of help and it didn’t take long before Police Constable Heap arrived at the scene.
After being told of the events prior to his arrival, P.C. Heap made his way into number 20.
Making his way into a small room, he was presented with a ghastly sight. Pots and pans had been smashed and furniture was scattered all over. A dresser and chairs were wrecked, scattered to pieces near to a staircase leading to a bedroom. Numerous ornaments had been wiped from the top of the dresser and broken on the bare floor.
On the floor lay Elizabeth Alice Walsh, 46 years of age and the mother of six children. She was lying in a heavy pool of blood. And on top of her was her husband, Michael Walsh, aged 47, also covered with blood.
It seems the fears of the neighbours had been acted out and whilst shocked at the awful nature of the tragedy, the discovery of the two bodies was exactly what they had expected to find.
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Casual Desire – Ugonna Onyekwe – No Copyright Music
Contact – The Tower of Light – No Copyright Music
Classical Piano – No Copyright Music
On the morning of Monday, 3rd September, 1894 - 34 passengers made their way onto a sail-powered boat that would, on a normal day, have taken them on a leisurely trip over to Grange-over-Sands, located on the north side of Morecambe Bay, Cumbria. But what should have been a day of fun and enjoyment, it would quickly escalate into a day of tragedy.
Departing from Morecambe promenade and the Princess Sailing Company Landing Stage at around 10 o'clock in the morning, the passenger list comprised of a large contingent of holiday makers who had travelled over from Burnley.
The 'Matchless' was a small fishing vessel, commonly known as a 'Lancashire nobby' and was used for fishing during the winter months and for pleasure trips in summer. Seventeen years old, the Matchless was roughly 33 feet (10m) long and weighed around five tons. It also contained a mainsail, foresail, topsail and jib.
Operated by its owner, 54 year old Samuel Houghton, who was an experience skipper with many years of sailing, after departing from the landing stage, the vessel wouldn’t take long to reach a stretch of water just off Silverdale and approximately six miles from where they had departed. The passengers, who, by now were in a merry mood and singing "Dare to be a Daniel!", were oblivious to the impending danger that was fast approaching.
Moments later, the Matchless seemed to slow down and to the right, the water had darkened slightly. One of the passengers said to Houghton, "I think we have stopped altogether," and then there was a lull, with the waters becoming still but very dark looking.
Out of nowhere, a huge gust slammed into the right side of the vessel, filling the sails and pitching it from left-to-right. And in no time at all, another gust struck from above, followed by a sudden squall, this time throwing the passengers into the water, leaving them no time to grab onto anything.
The Matchless began to rock from side-to-side before finally succumbing to the wind as she keeled over, and as the frantic passengers tried desperately to keep themselves afloat, it would only take a few minutes for the Matchless to disappear beneath the water.
Just over one-hundred yards away was Edward Gardner, a fisherman of Morecambe, who was also sailing his boat with seventeen passengers, taking the same route as that of Samuel on the Matchless.
Having just crossed over a junction in the channel and making headway towards Grange-over-Sands, Edward himself felt the gust of wind as it hit his boat. Looking over towards the direction of where the wind had originated from, he admitted to thinking to himself at a later inquest that the next breeze would be an ordinary breeze and did not think about altering the course of his boat.
He would later go on to mention that the wind was more akin to that of being like a whirlwind, first crashing along one side before rounding his boat and hitting it head-on the opposite side.
However, whilst he had managed to control his boat, he would see the Matchless pitching over and disappearing into the sea. Instinctively, he turned his boat around to make haste towards the panic-stricken passengers in the water.
In total he helped to recover six passengers who were alive and one, unfortunately who had died.
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When 16 year old, Thomas Oxford, began loading his cart with milk churns, he could never have envisioned the events that would take place later that same day.
Thomas was a farm servant living with John Clark, farmer, at a place known as Shuttleworth Hall that still is situated to this day in a place called Hapton.
It was around 6.30am in the morning on Saturday, 19th January 1889, when he left the Hall in the usual way, with his milk-cart fully stocked and ready to be delivered by going on his rounds by the way of Cheapside and Burnley Lane.
And by half-past nine, he had already finished delivering the milk and had made his towards Elm Street, just off Burnley Lane. Happy that the morning had gone as planned and relatively stress free, Thomas began on his journey back to Shuttleworth Hall when, coming from the direction of Burnley, another boy by the name of William McMenemy met up with him.
William, who was a little older and aged 18, was known as "Jimmy" to his friends, as he was rarely ever called by his Christian name of William.
"See thee, Tommy, look what a nice hammer I have found" William spoke as he pulled out a joiners hammer from his trouser pocket and handed it over to Thomas.
Impressed by the find, Thomas replied, "Ay, give it me." Thomas then offered William two pence for it, but William shook his head and turned down the offer.
Thomas placed the hammer into his cart box but no sooner as he had done so, William took it back out, remarking that it would come in useful as he put it into his trousers pocket and covering it with his waistcoat.
Both boys then got onto the cart and began to make their ways towards Ashfield Road but had to jump out and walk some way as there was a hill and the horse pulling the cart was beginning to struggle. As they did this, Thomas started to count the weeks earnings from the sale of milk. Nearing the Burnley Spinning and Weaving Company Mill, William hopped back into the cart whilst Thomas carried on walking up to the top of the street.
After counting the money, Thomas was about to put it back into his pocket, but William, who had been watching Thomas, said to him he had miscounted. Not sure, Thomas thought he'd better check and so began to recount the money. It would later emerge that Thomas was carrying £2 3s, the equivalent of just over £273 in today's value.
Thomas's return journey would normally see him make his way back along Burnley Road before turning right onto what is now known as Manchester Road. He would then normally have passed the Bridge public house before turning left onto Castle Clough lane and then towards Shuttleword Hall farm.
However, on this occasion, the two boys, after being talked into it by William, would instead make their way towards a place known as Stone Moor Bottom.
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Music;
Casual Desire – Ugonna Onyekwe – No Copyright Music
Contact – The Tower of Light – No Copyright Music
Another Day – Myuu – No Copyright Music
The walk from Smiths Place Farm, that was situated just on the outskirts of the small village of Huncoat, to the home of Susannah Holt at Houghton Barn Farm in Altham, is roughly just one mile in distance and something which would usually take on average, around fifteen to twenty minutes to complete.
And this walk was nothing unusual for James William Walker, who was just sixteen years old back on the 16th September 1889, when our next story takes place.
It had been a relatively mild day with just the odd outburst of rain which had blighted pretty much all of the North West of England, and for September, it felt much warmer than usual.
Making his way on the uneven and at times slippery footpath alongside the Leeds and Liverpool Canal, it was around 8.00pm when James would eventually arrive at a small bridge that overlooked the canal. He was also only around 100 yards from Houghton Barn Farm, the home of is aunt, Susannah Holt.
As James left the muddy footpath and began the short walk to his aunt's farm, he noticed the figure of a young man stood next to a fence on the opposite side of the path.
"Eigh, mate, has ta got a copper?" asked the stranger.
James replied with a simple 'no' as he passed the stranger.
Moments later, the stranger caught up with James, saying; "Good night" as he put one of his arms around James' neck.
Thinking the stranger was larking around, James tried to shrug him away but as he tried his hardest to break free, the stranger drew something that glittered from his breast pocket with his right hand.
Seconds later, and not realising what was happening to him, James then felt a piercing pain emanating from the left hand side of his abdomen.
With a sharp instrument, the stranger began stabbing James, not once or twice, but five times in total.
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Music;
Casual Desire – Ugonna Onyekwe – No Copyright Music
Contact – The Tower of Light – No Copyright Music
Classical Piano – Myuu – No Copyright Music
Identity Crisis – Myuu – No Copyright Music
Today's story takes us back to Wednesday, 24th December 1856 and to the inquest of how a young girls body was pulled from an old pit situated only yards from her own back yard, the week before on Friday, 19th December.
At the Whittakers Arms Inn, Mr. H. W. Hargreaves opened the proceedings on the body of Alice Nuttall, a 13 year old girl whose was found drowned in a pit near Highbrake Mill on Friday, 19th December.
The pit from where her body was removed from was roughly eighteen yards long and five to six yards wide. It was also only twenty-five yards away from where Alice had lived at Highbrake Terrace.
At around 6.10pm, Esther Smith was making her way home to Highbrake Terrace after finishing work at the nearby mill. She was being accompanied by John Nuttall who was also employed at the same mill as her. After arriving at Nuttall's house, which was only a five minutes' walk at best, she saw her sister, Alice standing and talking to Alice Nuttall at the bottom of the flag steps leading away from the house. Alice (Smith) was holding a jug which their father had given to her upon leaving work.
Waving at both girls, Esther continued on her way home which was only a few doors up from that of John Nuttall.
Ten minutes later, Alice Smith, in a state of panic came rushing into the house. She was wet from head to foot, her brow covered in green slime.
"Oh! Mother, two men have drawn us through the pit ; go after Alice, they have taken her!"
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