On Tuesday 31 December 1895 Tom Morley received a final letter at his Batley home from his brother Pat. Written on 30 December from Armley jail on the eve of Pat’s death, a heavily edited version published in a local newspaper read:
My dear Tom, I am very sorry to part with ye, but I hope I will meet ye in heaven, I will soon be in a better place withe [sic] the help of God I am preparing to go home to-morrow at nine o’clock, and I am leaving ye all my kind love. Let ye all pray for me this night and let ye pray for poor Lizzie that is gone before me. Dear Tom, I was no disgrace to you this 20 years in England untill [sic] now. Tom, it is my foolishness that left me here. It is hard work to rite [sic] this letter. Tom, I must conclude, and I am bidding ye all a long farewell. God be with you for ever.1
Pat Morley’s last night on earth was fairly restful. Then, on the morning of 31 December 1895, he ate a light breakfast, and was joined from 7am until 8.50am by Father Hassing, the Catholic prison chaplain. Prayers were said until James Billington, the government hangman, came for him.
Arms strapped to his side, Pat Morley was led to the chalk-marked drop point by a number of warders. Father Hassing, in the procession, recited the service for the dead in Latin. On reaching the spot, his ankles were strapped together, his face covered with a white cap, Major Knox the Prison Governor gave the signal and Pat Morley dropped 7′ 6″ to his death.
One hour later he was cut down, placed in a black-painted coffin and the perfunctory inquest held confirming the death sentence had been duly carried out. Two more formalities ensued. The Declaration of the Sheriff and Others read:
We, the undersigned, hereby declare that Judgment of Death was this Day executed on Patrick Morley in Her Majesty’s Prison of Leeds in our Presence.
Dated this 31st day of December 1895 E. Gray Under Sheriff of Yorkshire. James Knox, Governor of the said Prison. Anthony J. Hassing Chaplain of the said Prison.2
The Certificate of the Armley Prison Surgeon (at this time the word Surgeon was also used to refer to a doctor, rather than having our 21st century understanding), Berkeley Moynihan stated he had examined the body of Patrick Morley and death was confirmed. Later Berkeley Moynihan was elevated to the peerage as the 1st Baron Moynihan. More recent readers may be more familiar with the 4th Baron Colin Moynihan, a British Olympic coxswain and a former Conservative sports minister, who was the grandson of the Armley prison doctor.
It was a far cry from Pat’s early life, growing up in the Irish countryside on a farm in Cartron Townland near Charlestown, County Mayo. The son of Edward and Margaret Morley, he was brought up along with his three brothers and two sisters.3 But, as was the case for so many Irish, their homelands became but distant memories. By the 1890s one brother lived in Liverpool, another in Ripon and a third, Thomas, in Batley, along with a sister, Bridget, now the wife of William Rowan.
Standing at 5′ 7″4 Patrick was a thin, spare man, with sharp cast features and a somewhat ruddy appearance. Some went so far as to describe him as having an intellectual type of face. With neat, brown hair and a moustache, his most noteworthy features were his deep, brooding eyes – although Lucy Cooper, one of the witnesses giving evidence in front of the Magistrates in Batley Town Hall on 30 September 1895, said to much laughter when asked to look at his eyes “Oh, he’s nowt i’ my line to look at.”5
In England Pat was described as a generally steady and sober man, who was said:
…to have been possessed of a good bit of pride, and, being able to command good wages, he has, to quote the words of one of his relatives, “not gone into the tap-rooms but into the best rooms, amongst the gents.”6
In his subsequent court appearance he was always respectably dressed – one newspaper made a point of describing his decent appearance in a black coat and waistcoat, striped trousers, turned down collar, front, and black tie.7
But there were questions around why he did not seem to be able to stick at jobs, being amongst other things a labourer, a fried fish dealer and corporation labourer, all in a short space of time. It was also reported he once owned a fried fish and potato business in Wellington Street, Batley, which lost £8 in five weeks (the equivalent of around £1,250 at 2025 values).8
He met Elizabeth Stratton whilst working in Harrogate. She ran a lodging house in which he stayed. Born in Halifax in 1853 (so slightly older than the 35 years indicated at the time of her death), she was the daughter of John and Elizabeth Stratton (née Penny). She and her siblings, William, Mary, Joseph and James, grew up in Bradford with their father’s jobs including a labourer in a stone quarry and an earthenware dealer. Her parents died in late 1880 and, after initially working as a glass and China shopkeeper in Bradford, she moved to Harrogate. Described as a respectable, educated woman she was often seen in that town dressed in black, wearing a veil.
According to some relative of Pat’s:
…seeing he had some good clothes and was a decent fellow who didn’t mix with the roughs, she married him.9
Their wedding took place in Harrogate at Christmas-time in 1893.
Within months though marital problems emerged. Although regarded as a quiet, steady, inoffensive man, it seemed Pat liked a drink. This caused him to became jealous of the lodgers. According to Tom “He was not a right drunkard but he spent his money in drink.”10
However this admission from Tom only came at the final trial. In the immediate aftermath of the murder, Tom said his brother was not habitually given to liquor and that he had not seen him the worse for drink for twenty years.11
Perhaps Tom was in shock, or possibly trying to defend his brother’s character. For other evidence around the marriage of Pat and Lizzie seemed to indicate drink did play a part in his violent outbursts.
One jealous alcohol-fuelled incident saw Pat hitting a lodging house resident on the head with a poker.
When Lizzie arranged to remove her furniture from the house and leave, Pat barricaded himself inside and refused the removal men entry. She relented and returned to him, but as a result of his behaviour lodgers shunned Diamond Place, frightened away by the antics of the proprietor’s new husband.
The couple eventually left Harrogate, initially moving to Hunslet Lane, Leeds. It was in Leeds that he operated a fried fish shop. And it was in Leeds that, in July 1894, Pat was bound over to keep the peace for 12 months after threatening his wife. A loaded revolver was found in his possession and taken from him – his brother Tom subsequently claimed in a statement to have thrown it into a river.
The couple came to Batley shortly afterwards (his brother reckoned about September 1894), living at Churchfield Street. Here Pat worked for Batley Corporation as a labourer, whilst Lizzie was employed as a power loom weaver at Sheard’s mill.
In July 1895, a year after his previous conviction, Pat appeared again before the police court. It was a familiar charge: once more he had made threats against his wife.
This time he was fined 40s and costs, and bound over to keep the peace for six months. His brother, Tom, stood a guarantor for his good behaviour. It meant if Pat was in trouble again within six months, Tom would be financially penalised. It was something which would come back to bite Tom.
Pat went to Harrogate to cool off, and whilst he was away Lizzie, fearing for her safety, left the marital home. She was financially poorer too, as it was said Pat had spent £40 (over £6,200 at 2025 values) of her money during the short period since their marriage.12
In early September she took lodgings at 1 Hirst Place, off Purlwell Lane, in the cottage belonging to Ellen Nutton and her married daughter Lucy Cooper.
Pat returned to Batley on 14 September 1895 for Batley Feast, obtaining employment with the Corporation clearing away rubbish from the market. He also immediately sought out his wife.
In the following days he was a frequent visitor to Hirst Place, pleading with Lizzie to return to him. She refused, afraid he would harm her telling him “You know Pat, I daren’t live with you. You know you have threatened me so often.13 At other times she said she would if he would “mend” and “if he would give over drinking.”14
After one rejection he briefly left Batley on 16 September and spent time in Harrogate then Ripon, where he purchased another bulldog-type revolver. He returned to Batley on 18 September and resumed his visits to Hirst Place, trying to persuade his estranged wife to come back. In one statement he said:
I kept begging her to change her mind, because I knew if she did not change her mind she would have to die for it…15
His final visits to Lizzie took place on Sunday 22 September. He turned up in the morning, and after being told she was not in the house (she was in bed) he went to mass at St Mary’s to see if he could find her there. Later that morning he spent time with his brother and sister, who said he behaved perfectly normally. He arrived back at Hirst Place at around 1.15pm, whilst Lizzie was preparing dinner. Both Ellen and Lucy were in the room. He asked if she had been to church that morning, but she said not as she’d been too late.
Approaching 2pm, as Lizzie was snipping some parsley, he got up from his chair and moved towards her, asking if she would lend him a shilling. It being Batley Feast time she too was short of money, having taken time off work to go to the jollities on the Saturday, Monday and Tuesday. As a consequence she had not finished the piece of cloth she was weaving (as a weaver she was paid by the piece).
Pat was now within an arms length of her. Saying “Get out Lizzie” he reached for his breast pocket, drew out the revolver and shot her once in the right temple. Falling to the ground at the feet of Ellen Nutton, she never spoke again.
In his police statement later that afternoon, Pat claimed if she had given him the shilling he would have gone away.
Pat then put the gun to his mouth and, with trembling hands, pulled the trigger once more. Despite the revolver firing, for some inexplicable reason it missed him. The bullet was subsequently found to have hit the wall behind him.
By now Lucy was shouting the alarm and banging on the window. Fred Ashton, a young miner who lived at 8 Hirst Place and who had heard the crack of two shots, came to see what was going on. He apprehended Pat on the doorstep of the cottage and led him back inside. Pat calmly handed the revolver to Fred.
The police and the Batley police surgeon were quickly summoned. PC William Robinson, who lived only 120 yards away, was the first Batley policeman on the scene. He was the constable who dealt with the domestic dispute only two months earlier.
Police surgeon Herbert Keighley was unable to save Lizzie, who died at around 2.30pm. As she lay dying Pat muttered “I am sorry. I hope her soul is in heaven” and “I have done it for love.”16
Ellen, described as a matronly-looking woman, claimed at his trial in December that she felt if he had held out for just a couple more days Lizzie would have returned to him. Her evidence, as outlined in the Judge’s notes in that final December trial, appeared to indicate he and Lizzie had “slept together” during his Hirst Place visits. The Judge wrote the word “cohabiting” in the margins.17 Whether this is true, what is not in doubt is during those few days after Pat’s return to Batley in September 1895 they spent several hours together, both at Hirst Place and around Batley visiting friends – for example Bridget Cafferty’s home on Spa Street.
His family were in total shock with the turn of events. His sister, Bridget, said Pat would do anything for Lizzie. She could not believe he would bring this trouble upon the family. Tom was similarly perplexed, saying he could not for the life of him understand why his brother had done it, describing his deceased sister-in-law as a decent woman.18
Lizzie Morley’s inquest took place before Coroner Thomas Taylor in the late afternoon of 23 September. It was held at the New Inn, a public house on nearby Purlwell Lane.
Her funeral followed on Wednesday 25 September, officiated by Rev. Father Charles Gordon of St. Mary of the Angels R.C. Church. In the previous two days, as was the custom, hundreds of people viewed her body in its open coffin.19 It seems somewhat macabre that this was at the Hirst Place house in which she had been murdered, especially given that it was also a crime scene. And it was from there that she made her final journey to Batley cemetery, accompanied by the large crowd who had gathered at Hirst Place.
Work colleagues carried Lizze’s flower-covered, polished, pitch pine coffin with brass furnishings from the house to the hearse. The procession, headed by around a dozen weavers from her workplace, then wound its way through those gathered along the Purlwell Lane, Clerk Green and Cemetery Road route.
Chief mourners were Lizzie’s brother Joseph and his wife, her aunt and uncle James and Louisa Naylor (her mother’s sister), sister-in-law Emily Stratton and cousin Elizabeth Penny. Newspaper reports estimated between two and three thousand witnessed the funeral procession and ceremony.
As well as paying respects to the deceased, many were also doubtless eager to hear the latest gossip about the tragedy. They may also have been drawn by the rumours of possible trouble. Some of Lizzie’s Protestant relatives initially objected to a Catholic funeral, despite that being her religion, only relenting at the last minute. Arrangements for her interment were also disputed, planned for the burial plot owned by Tom Morley. Her family only agreed to that on condition Pat Morley would not also be buried there. And such was the bitterness of Lizzie’s family towards Pat’s relatives, that the Morley family were persuaded not to attend her burial for fear of a disturbance.
In the meantime Pat appeared before Batley Magistrates on 23 and 30 September. On both occasions large crowds gathered outside the Town Hall with townsfolk hoping to catch a glimpse of the prisoner as he was brought to court.
The first hearing held in the small Committee Room meant only limited public access.
At the second hearing even bigger crowds gathered outside the building two hours before proceedings commenced. Even after the doors opened people continued to arrive, and the crowd swelled to such an extent during the course of the hearing that traffic was obstructed. At the end of this hearing Pat was formally charged with the wilful murder of his wife and committed to trial at the next Leeds Assizes.
His brother Tom was a frequent visitor to his brother in Wakefield Gaol, where Pat remained in good spirits and had not despaired of being saved from the gallows. Tom wrote to a number of Pat’s former employers to get character references for him. Responses included one from Major Gorman of Smeaton Manor, Northallerton and Mr R Routledge of Hick House, Northallerton. The latter reply was typical:
I am very much grieved to hear of the dreadful act your brother has committed. I cannot imagine but that he was either really drunk or insane at the time he did it. When working for me he was always so cheerful and pleasant. I am afraid that anything I can say would avail him very little…If you are not able to employ counsel the judge will, no doubt, order someone to defend him…20
Another ploy was to try to prove Pat was mentally unstable, in contrast to his family’s description of him in the immediate aftermath of the shooting. When the case came before Mr Justice William Grantham at the Assizes held at Leeds Town Hall on 9 December, evidence was produced to this effect. It included a family history of insanity. Pat’s brother Tom said “he had not been right in his head these ten years” and his condition worsened after his marriage. Tom went on to say they had an aunt similarly afflicted. Their brother Michael had “not been square in the head” since birth; neither was their cousin Mary who emigrated to America. Bridget Rowan, their sister, who lived at Woodwell, Batley gave similar evidence as to Pat’s mental state. She mentioned her brother had stayed with her in the three nights prior to the death of Lizzie. Whilst here his state of mind deteriorated, to the point that he was incessantly talking to himself.21
The Judge sought the opinion of Berkeley Moynihan (spelled Barclay by the Judge), Armley Gaol surgeon, who rebuffed this. In his opinion Pat had ordinary control of his actions and was quite responsible for them. The Judge’s notations of the doctor’s evidence included:
He seemed to have ordinary memory and was quite like an ordinary individual.22
The jury was also unconvinced. After listening to evidence from a parade of other witnesses, including Ellen Nutton, Lucy Cooper, Fred Ashton, Dr. Herbert Keighley, Batley policemen PC William Robinson, Sergeant Smith Machell and PC William Craven, as well as Leeds City policemen involved in the 1894 Leeds domestic dispute, they found the prisoner guilty.
Pat now gave a long, disjointed statement in a strong Irish accent as follows:
I have your riverence, [sic] your lordship – I am here. No docther [sic] in Leeds to [sic] examine me. I am in a weak state of mind. Your riverence [sic] I hope you will give me a fair chance. I was more fit for the asylum at the time. I was away three weeks. She sold my home. I went away to Harrogate. I was drunk during the time. I had been sober for twelve months. I loved my wife. I did not want to shoot her. No, I was not the man. I told the doctor at Wakefield all the time I was there. I said my head was rising off me. I told the doctor in Armley Gaol that my head was bad, and it has been bad for a number of years, as my friends know. I hope you will give me a chance. I did not intend to shoot my wife. I only had this revolver to frighten her. She would not go back to live with me. I did not think the revolver would go off at the time. The revolver went. I thought I hadn’t it ready for going. I had no more mind to shoot her if I had to drop dead before ye gentleman. I am the wrongest. I am the innocentest man, though I did it. I have the best character of any man in the world. She sold my home. I went to Harrogate to take the waters. I was not drinking then. Gentlemen – your Lord, it is only a little revolver. I only did it to frighten her.23
The Judge, unmoved, donned his black cap, and passed a sentence of death. A woman in the gallery sobbed once, and Pat Morley, staring blankly ahead, was hustled out of the court.
However, some did raise questions about the verdict, blaming the unprepared, inexperienced defence counsel. A piece in The Leeds Times of 14 December 1895 said Pat had:
…the appearance of mental derangement, of at least feebleness and abnormal stupidity, and I think there may be more in the statement of his having two near relations in Ireland insane than was disclosed…Patrick Morley may be an idiot or a brute or a combination of both, but he ought not be hanged if he is in a mental state that weakens his responsibility. I trust that full inquiry will be made into his history and into his condition of mind.
The Judge had no such concerns. His notes mention his belief that the prisoner displayed shrewdness. They also indicate one of the first questions Pat asked his Council was if he should pretend to be insane, and what was the best way to do this. However, the Judge did request a post-trial medical report. Dated 17 December 1895, Henry Clarke – the doctor who had seen him regularly during his two-month sojourn at Wakefield Prison – stated that on his arrival there on 24 September there was no evidence of delusions or hallucinations. It was only on 1 October that he appeared dull, stupid and slow in answering questions. The following day he denied ever seeing the doctor previously, claimed he had never been married and could not answer even the simplest of questions. The doctor gave special instructions for his visits with family and friends to be monitored. In these he repeatedly spoke about his wife with regard to her ring and some property, and suggested to his brother that he should get evidence as to some relative who had been in an asylum. Dr Clarke concluded:
In my opinion he was sane and responsible for his actions. I regarded his conduct under examination during the latter part of his stay here as assumed.24
The decision remained unchanged. Pat Morley, now in Armley Gaol, philosophically awaited his fate, the date for his hanging set for 31 December 1895.
On Friday, 27 December 1895 Tom received his penultimate from his brother. It read:
My dear Brother, Sorry I am to write you this lonesome letter in my present state, and in the position in which I am placed as you perhaps have heard that I am to die in the last day of the year; and let ye all pray for me. I have the priest coming to see me every day. Dear Tom, if only I had taken your advice I should not be placed in the position I am. Poor Tom, you always advised me for the best, and I didn’t take it, but I thought, Tom, I would not come to this end. Dear brother Tom, I will tell you the truth now, I will. Poor Lizzie is now dead and in Heaven I hope, and the Lord have mercy on her soul, and I am here, as he know, waiting to die; I will tell you Lizzie has been the cause of all this. I am going to die for her now, Tom, and Lizzie has brought it all on me and to herself. I never intended to take her life. Dear Tom, I am very sorry for poor Lizzie. Let ye all pray for Lizzie, Tom. I did not think last Christmas I should be here this Christmas. Tom, if I had taken your advice I would not be here. My dear brother, I must now conclude with my kind love to you, Mary and family. May God bless you all, and let ye all pray for me, as ye know I shall soon be in another world, where there is no end, but everlasting life. Tom and Mary, I am bidding you all a long farewell. I am sending my kind love to Maggy and all the children, and I am leaving my blessing to all the friends and neighbours. Tom, don’t forget poor Pat. Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye. xxxxxxxxxx25
A few lines to his sister read:
You always told me to be kind to Lizzie, and I was good and kind to her, but she was bad to me and to herself. She was all the time trying to provoke me. I could tell you a lot of things she did to me, but I will tell you no more. All ye pray for Lizzie.26
Pat continued to be allowed family visits after his removal to Armley, and the day after receiving this letter Tom travelled to the prison to see his brother for the final time.
It was said those in Batley who knew him would now have difficulty in recognising Pat. Instead of his worsted suit, he was now in prison attire. His hair had grown, and he now had a beard. His previous military bearing had given way to a despondent stoop, and he had lost a good bit of his previous colour.
Accepting of his fate, it was Pat who tried to keep his brother’s spirits up telling him to “keep up” and saying he had been a good brother who had done all he could. He also said that it was a good job the Almighty had prevented his attempted suicide because had given him time to repent and instead of Hell, the priest had told him he would now go to Heaven. He reiterated:
Mi body’s nothing but mi soul will go to Heaven. I wor in your house last Christmas, and I’ve spent mi last Christmas in here. On Tuesday night all the neighbours will be in your home and there will be plenty of pipes; give them all my best respects, Tom, and bid them a long farewell from me.27
Poignantly Pat asked his brother to get his body if he could. Little did he know that his grave had already been prepared in the prison cemetery. The visit ended at 1.30pm, with Tom trying not to cry, and Pat’s features etched with a despair. As Tom left, Pat’s final words to him were:
A thousand blessings to ye all, Tom, I’ll try to write ye another letter before I die. Good-bye, a long farewell.28
True to his word, on 30 December he penned his final emotional, and unsigned, letters – which arrived with his brother and sister on the morning of his death. They read, with spelling and punctuation unchanged:
My dear brother, i am writing to you and to mary and maggy and all the children my last lonesome and morning letter, and to all the friends and neighbours. my dear tom i am very sorry to part with ye but i hope i will meet ye in heven. dear tom don’t take much trouble for me tom I had to go through all this. But i will soon Be in a Better Place, with the helpe of god i am preparing to go home to-morrow at 9 clock, and I am leaving ye all my kind love, you will give my kind love to yourself Tom Morley and to Bridget and children and you will give my kind love to John Brannan and to Kate and children and you will give my kind love to my Brother william rowan and Michael Brannan and wife and family, and give my kind love to Kate Fitzpatrick – she was the last that shook hands with me at Batley station – and Jim and family, and let ye all pray for me this night and let ye pray for poor lizzie that is gou before me. My dear Brother tom i am leaving you my two tables and all the other things that is in fox’s house. fox bought nothing, and you will give one table to sister Bridget and some of the other things. dear tom i was no disgrace to you this 20 years in England untill now tom. it is my foolishness that left me here. tom it is hard work to rite this letter tom i must conclude and i am biding you a long fairwell; god Be with ye for ever.29
This is the full, unamended version of the letter I used at the beginning of this piece.
To his sister Bridget, he wrote:
My dear sister Bridget, i am righting to you and the children my last lonesome and morning letter. My dear sister, you mustn’t take it to much to hart, i thought I would not Part you in the ways I have don. i am sorry to leave you, Bid, but I hope God will Be with you and the children, and God will reward you for all you don for me this 15 weeks. you will give my kind love to Willy and Cate and Bridget and Michael and you will give my kind love to Pat Cafferty and to Maggy. Now Bid i am bidding you a long farewell. God be with you. Pray for poor Lizzie that is gone before me.30
And so the final day of 1895 dawned, with the chorus of sparrows chirruping from the eaves of houses near to Armley Gaol. It was unusually mild. It was the day 38-year-old Patrick Morley became the last man to be executed for a Batley murder, facing his fate with courage.
There is one footnote to this tale. For on 17 January 1896 Thomas Morley found himself before Batley magistrates. He was ordered to pay £2 because his brother had failed to keep the peace for the required six months after his conviction that previous July.
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Footnotes:
1. Yorkshire Evening Post, 04 January 1896.
2. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A5749.
3. Numbers and whereabouts of siblings taken from Batley News, 04 October 1895.
4. According to the Batley police statements used at the trial and held at The National Archives (TNA). Interestingly his HMP Wakefield records state 5′ 4½”.
5. Dewsbury Chronicle and West Riding Advertiser, 02 October 1895.
6. Leeds Times,12 October 1895.
7. Batley News, 27 September 1895.
8. Batley News, 04 October 1895.
9. Leeds Times, 12 October 1895.
10. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Judge’s Notes of evidence of Thomas Morley, 9 December 1895. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496.
11. Batley News, 27 September 1895.
12. Batley News, 04 October 1895.
13. Huddersfield Daily Examiner, Inquest evidence of Ellen Nutton, 24 September 1895.
14. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Judge’s Notes of evidence of Ellen Nutton, 9 December 1895. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496.
15. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Patrick Morley’s statement to Sergt Machell and PC Craven at Batley Police Station, 22 September 1895. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496.
16. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Various witness depositions and in Judge’s Notes. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496.
17. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Judge’s Notes of evidence of Ellen Nutton, 9 December 1895. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496.
18. Batley News, 27 September 1895.
19. Ibid.
20. Leeds Times, 26 October 1895.
21. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Judge’s Notes of evidence of Thomas Morley and Bridget Rowan, 9 December 1895.Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496.
22. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Judge’s Notes of evidence of Berkeley Moynihan, 9 December 1895. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496.
23. Leeds Times, 14 December 1895.
24. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Report of Henry Clarke, Medical Officer, Wakefield Prison, 17 December 1895. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496.
25. Leeds Mercury, 04 January 1896.
26. Ibid.
27. Batley News, 03 January 1896.
28. Ibid.
29. Ibid.
30. Ibid.
Sources:
• 1861 to 1921 Censuses.
• Bradford Daily Telegraph, 24 September 1895.
• GRO Indexes.
• Huddersfield Chronicle, 10 and 14 December 1895.
• Huddersfield Daily Examiner, 24 and 26 September 1895.
• Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496.
• Leeds Mercury, 10 and 28 December 1895.
• Leeds Times, 28 September 1895, 5, 12 and 26 October 1895, 14 and 21 December 1895, 4 January 1896.
• Lincolnshire Chronicle, 27 September 1895.
• Various editions of the Batley News and the Batley Reporter and Guardian.
• Various Irish records.
• West Yorkshire Prison Records, Wakefield Prison. Accessed via Ancestry.co.uk. Originals at West Yorkshire Archive Service, Wakefield, England, Reference C118/151.
• Yorkshire Evening Post, 4 January 1896.
• Yorkshire Herald, 1 October 1895.
Past To Present Genealogy 