Life was good for Thirza and her children once they had been taken under the wing of the John Simmonite. He mollycoddled her and it lasted for five years until John had a massive heart attack which killed him. Thirza was almost alone. Only William lived at home, the other children John and Emma, only seventeen, were now married and raising their own families.
William was now twenty four years of age. He was five feet six and three quarter inches tall, with light brown hair grey eyes and an oval visage bearing a light complexion. He was decidedly good looking but his good looks were of the warlike type. He had a bright complexion, sharp features, hard and fierce in the expression in his face, and was possessed of an eye of singular restlessness and acuteness. The small tightly compressed mouth, the sharp chin, the knife like nose, the cheek bones overhanging the lower face in a graceful curve like beetling cliffs, and the eyes peering like a pair of keen falcons from their recesses beneath the arched eyebrows. He was, in many respects, a most noticeable man. It is not often that a face so fitted to express endurance and scornful courage and so thoroughly martial could be found for the sculptor and it seems a pity that a man whom Nature fitted for a soldier and whom Lord Byron would have delighted with as an ideal corsair, should be no more than a coal pit trammer at the nearby Carhouse colliery and whose daily job was simply pushing heavily laden coaltubs. He was still unmarried and although he had had brief flings with a few of the village girls none had ever amounted to more than a kiss and a cuddle. He had begun poaching, more for fun than for profit. The area surrounding Greasbrough was all fields, most of them belonging to the Fitzwilliam’s. William would occasionally go out in the late evening, set his purse nets over the rabbit holes and then return the next evening to pick up his spoils. He had never been challenged by any of the estate gamekeepers but, in general, they were stealing  and selling more game than he was and they weren’t really bothered about small time poachers like him. Poached rabbits seemed to taste better than the ones that his mother bought off the market.
His first glimpse of Myra Wilcock took his breath away. She was a real beauty with black hair and dark eyes, almost the looks of a gypsy. Nineteen years of age, tall and slim, she walked with an air of grace and William fell in love with her instantly. She never even noticed him. Although the family lived quite close he couldn’t understand why he had never seen her before. She was in service and was employed at the Ashcroft Academy, a school  for young gentlemen at Wentworth, where she stayed throughout the week returning home each weekend to be with her family. Chance of meeting Myra came when his mother was involved with St Mary’s Church annual fete. She was helping along with Myra’s mother, Ann Wilcock, on one of the cake stalls. Mrs. Wilcock had told Thirza that her daughter Myra would be at the culmination of the weeks festivities which was a barn dance being held at the village hall on Saturday night. Thirza just happened to mention it to William.
At the dance, William couldn’t take his eyes off Myra – and she had noticed him at last. He had taken especial care preparing for this evening and in his heart he knew that he would be escorting this beautiful girl home. He just needed to the courage to ask her to dance. Since orange squash was the only available drink, that wasn’t going to help him much although he had called in the Yellow Lion earlier and enjoyed a couple of pints of ale.  She had already danced with a couple of the village lads, her skirts swinging out as they twirled her around, her long black hair glinting with highlights. He wanted to hold her in his arms and look into those dark flashing eyes. Now she was standing alone. He looked around and noticed other fellows looking in her direction. “Now, now’s the time,” he thought. He paced towards her, he could almost hear his heart beating, and suddenly he was standing before her. She was taller than he had thought, almost as tall as he was and she looked him straight in the eye “Will you ....?” he hesitated, “Will you give me the pleasure of the next dance, please?”  She smiled, her rosy lips revealing pearly white teeth and she held out her hand. He took it gently and a feeling of warmth came over him as they walked toward the dance floor. The dance was a blur, she was laughing as they spun around and he was overcome by her beauty. Suddenly it was over and holding her hand he gently escorted her back to where she had been standing. “Thank you” he exclaimed. His mouth almost fell open with surprise when she said, “That was lovely, will you take me again?” They danced together for the rest of the evening. After the dance they walked through the village until they reached the cottage where she lived with her widowed Mother and six brothers and sisters. It was a beautiful starlit night and William hoped it may the start of a new life for them both. He didn’t want to leave but she whispered, “Thank you for a lovely evening”. William said, “Can I see you again?”  “Not until next weekend,” she replied. “May I call on you then” he pleaded. “Yes,” she smiled. She leaned toward him and brushed his cheek with a light kiss. Opening the cottage door she disappeared into the half light and the door closed. William stood there for a few moments unable to believe what had happened in the last few hours. He had met the woman of his dreams and he vowed, there and then, that she would become his wife. William Sykes was in love. What he didn’t know was that Myra had also fallen in love -  with him.  He floated rather than walked the short distance home. He just couldn’t believe that he had spent the last few hours with the most precious, beautiful girl in the world. How on earth would he be able to wait a whole week before he would see her again. 
The days of the following week seemed so long. Each day spent at work pushing and shoving those coal tubs but, in the inky blackness of the mine he could see that vision of loveliness in the shadows of his mind. He even went to bed early to try and shorten the amount of time he would have to wait to see Myra. Nothing had ever affected him so much. The waiting was almost painful.
Early Saturday evening he soaked himself in the tin bath in front of the hot radiant fire, the hot sudsy water bathing him and purging out every speck of coal dust from his pores. His mind was still on Myra and his thoughts of her were spreading a warm glow through his body. He closed his eyes and tried to focus his imagination on her pretty face. Her laughing eyes and bright smile were lasting reminders and he was filled with expectation of his next meeting with her this evening.
At eight o’clock prompt he stood on her doorstep in his hand a bunch of wild violets picked earlier in the day. He tapped on the door. The door opened and Myra’s mother, Mrs. Wilcock, beckoned him inside. The house was full of people and children. “Come in, young man” she said and began to explain who they all were. Myra’s eldest brother Ellis and his family were visiting. There was fourteen year old Alfred, young Herbert and the two youngest daughters, Rosemary and Ruby. William smiled and nodded curtly to each as Myra’s mother named them but was impatient to see Myra. The door at the bottom the stairs opened and there she was, a vision of loveliness. She was wearing a long black skirt and a creamy white blouse. The front of the blouse was decorated with fine lace and was buttoned to the neck She took the flowers from him and thanked him shyly. She disappeared into the kitchen, returning with the violets in a small vase which she placed carefully on the wide window sill which was illuminated by the setting sun.  “Shall we go for a walk?” asked Myra. William nodded. “Take our Herbert with you then” said Mrs.Wilcock. Myra just smiled. “We won’t be too long,” she said, “Come along Herbert, get your coat”. William was disappointed, he wanted Myra all to himself. They walked up the High Street past the church and the village square out towards the open fields. Young Herbert tagged on behind.
She asked what he had been doing all week and after a short reply from William of “Going to work mainly” began to recount some the happenings over the week at the Ashcroft Academy. It was still quite warm even though the sun was almost down but Myra had brought a woollen shawl which she draped around her shoulders. They reached the footpath that went to Scholes about a mile away. It was a rough cart track. Young Herbert was trailing behind by about fifty yards picking up small stones and throwing them at the sparrows twittering in the hedgerows scattering them in all directions.  William was walking backwards with Myra walking towards him. Suddenly Myra tripped, her arms outstretched as she began to fall. William caught her in his strong arms and drew her up to him. Their faces were only inches apart, he could feel her warm body against him, her soft young breasts pressing against his muscular chest. Her lips were slightly parted and she looked directly into his eyes. He bent his head forward and brushed his lips against hers and his mind exploded with a thousand stars. The kiss only lasted a few seconds but they both knew it was what they wanted and it was only the first of many. William glanced back down the track to where Herbert was still throwing stones. He surely hadn’t noticed anything.  He slipped his hand into hers and they walked a little further. The sun had gone down now and the light was fading. “Better go back now,” she said and turned William round to face the opposite direction. They soon caught up to young Herbert and returned to Myra’s cottage. Ellis and his family had left and the rest of the children had been sent off to bed. Mrs.Wilcock made them both a hot steaming cup of tea and asked where they had been. Young Herbert piped up, “Up to the cart path and they were kissing each other.”  William felt so embarrassed and was chided, with a smile on her face, by Mrs. Wilcock for “taking advantage of my daughter.”  Myra jumped up and chased young Herbert shouting after him “You shouldn’t have been looking you little rascal.”  Herbert ran upstairs giggling and off to bed. “Time you were in bed young lady” said Myra’s mother. William took the hint and said it was time for him to go. Myra followed him to the door and they stepped outside the door closing quietly behind them. It was quite dark now, the stars twinkling brightly in the cloudless sky. The moonlight fell on Myra’s face and her skin looked like porcelain. William took her in his arms and pulled her close to him. Myra entwined her arms around his neck and her face brushed closely to his. He searched for those soft ruby lips and their warm slightly open mouths came together in a lingering kiss. Her warm body was so close, his hands around that slim waist were gently squeezing and caressing her. She gently pushed him away, “I must go now” she said. “Can I see you again tomorrow?” asked William. “No, I have to go back to Wentworth tomorrow afternoon,” she replied. “Perhaps next weekend,” she teased.
The week dragged by, his mind continually remembering those few passionate moments which had given them both such great enjoyment. He worked harder than ever trying to make time pass even quicker. At last Saturday came. With the same careful preparation as the previous week he readied himself for his next meeting with Myra. He walked the short distance to her Mother’s cottage his heart beating faster with every pace. He tapped on the door. This time young Herbert answered. “Mum, it’s Mr. Sykes,” he shouted. Mrs. Wilcock came to the door, teacloth in hand and looked at William inquiringly. “I’ve called to see Myra,” he said. “I’m sorry William but Myra isn’t home this weekend. She has had to stay at work, some kind of special weekend or something for the boys at the Academy. She won’t be home till next weekend.” Mrs. Wilcock could tell that William was noticeably disappointed. She smiled. “Don’t fret lad, it will soon pass” she said. William thanked her and turned away. The Yellow Lion beckoned him and he knew a few pints of ale would help him drown his sorrows. “Another week,” he said quietly to himself shaking his head.
The next few days went slowly by. On the Thursday afternoon he came home from work. He was dog tired after his long shift at the pit but he enjoyed the hearty meal his mother had prepared. She always made sure that he was well fed. The strenuous nature of his job pushing and pulling coal tubs had resulted in William developing broad shoulders and a fine muscular body. Occasionally during a lull in production the lads at the pit would compete to see how many times they could press a pair of tub wheels. There were always spare sets available to repair the tubs. William always won. After his meal he sat in the chair and fell asleep thinking of Myra, wishing the weekend would come. Another two days to wait.
Thirza shook him gently, waking him from his dreams. “I’m off to see Auntie Mary. I’ll be back about ten o’clock.” William yawned, “OK, I’ll  probably be in bed when you get back.”  William looked at the clock – it was six o’clock. He opened the back door and reached up for the tin bath hanging outside on a rusty nail. Placing it in front of the open fire he started to fill it with hot water boiling several kettles in the process, moderating the temperature with jugs of cold water until the water was hot enough and deep enough to bathe. He stripped off his pit clothes his body still covered in the black coal dust which seemed to get into every pore and every orifice. He stepped in to the hot water and began to scrub himself clean. After bathing he shaved and then dressed himself. The bath was gradually emptied using a lading can and wiped clean, then hung back on it’s rusty nail ready for use next evening. “I fancy a pint in the Lion” he thought to himself checking that he had enough coppers. He reached out for his waistcoat when there was a tap at the front door. He opened the door. It was Myra. He was shocked and couldn’t believe his eyes. His mouth was agape. “Are you going to ask me in or are you going to make me stand here all night?” she said smiling. “Yes, I’m sorry, it’s just that you are the last person I expected to see, I thought that you wouldn’t be home until Saturday.” William stood back and Myra stepped into the cottage. As all women do, she began look round and take stock of the interior of the cottage. There was a big sofa and a rocking chair facing the large open fired cooking range. Thirza was obviously a house proud lady.  Everything was tidily arranged and it was warm and cosy. She could smell the faint aroma of freshly picked scented herbs. Myra was impressed. “It’s lovely,” she remarked. “Are these yours?” she said as she pointed to a pile of scruffy pit clothes. William was a little embarrassed, scooped the pile of clothes up and  hurriedly took them through to the kitchen where they were normally stored ready for his next shift at the pit. Myra laughed. She sat on the sofa. It was the kind that enveloped you with it large soft cushions sucking you in. She patted the cushion beside her and said “Come and sit down.” “Would you like a drink or anything” he blurted. She shook her head. He had waited almost two weeks to see her. Had thought a thousand times of all the things he was going to say to her and now he was almost struck dumb. “My mother has gone to visit Auntie Mary” he explained awkwardly, “She won’t be back while later.” The light outside was beginning to fade as the sun set and William lit one of the small oil lamps. “I have to go back to Wentworth in the morning,” Myra explained. “I have to work the weekend again.” She could see the disappointment on Williams face. “Perhaps I could come over to Wentworth and see you there,” he said. He sat down beside her. She held out her hand to him and he took it his fingers trembling imperceptibly. The softness of the sofa caused them to lean towards each other. William wanted to brush his lips against her soft mouth. He pulled her gently towards him and their faces touched. His moist lips lightly caressed her cheek gradually moving slowly towards her mouth. Her eyes were closed. His lips found hers, first brushing them lightly and then suddenly pressing their open mouths together in passionate embrace, their arms locked around each other pulling their bodies together. Her warm scented breath caressed his cheek as the kiss lingered.  “I love you” he breathed quietly into to her ear. “I love you too" she whispered and she began to weep, tears flowing from those beautiful dark eyes. “Oh, William, hold me tightly”.
William courted Myra for several months, meeting as often as they could, sometimes in Greasbrough on her weekends or days off from the Academy. Occasionally, William would travel to Wentworth meeting Myra when she could steal a little time away from the Academy, their love for each other growing stronger week by week..  Life seemed quite idyllic for this couple who were so much in love. 
William and Myra were married in June 1853 at the Sheffield Parish Church. It was a simple ceremony attended by their families and just a few friends who helped them to tie the knot. His brother, John was his best man, who along with his sister Emma witnessed the register. The wedding festivities were held in the evening at the Yellow Lion with lots of ale, hot food and dancing and everyone wished the newly married couple a long and happily married life. Their wedding night was a delicious amalgam of their bodies giving each other countless spasms of pleasure until they both fell asleep with exhaustion after the days events.
Until they could find their own place to rent, William’s mother offered the newlyweds a room at her cottage. There was plenty of room there and Myra soon became a happy housewife. She had given up the job at the Academy but was working in Mangham’s butcher shop in the village. Each evening, when William came home from the pit, the tin bath would be ready for him filled with piping hot water. Whilst he bathed and got rid of all that ingrained coal dust from his body she would be preparing a dinner. Working in the butcher’s shop enabled her to obtain fresh meat daily and William had quickly realised that those years of training and working in the kitchens at the Ashcroft Academy had turned Myra into an excellent cook. If Thirza was out at this time she would help him bathe and invariably they would make love before dinner was served.
As summer passed and the autumn leaves began to fall, Myra decided that she would tell William a little secret that she had known for well over a month. That evening just like any other evening after work he came home to the same routine . The hot tin bath was prepared for him, dinner ready to put on the kitchen table. William sat at the table, the skin of his clean shaven face glowing. “He is certainly a good looking man,” Myra thought to herself as she filled his plate with steaming meat and potato pie. His pint pot was filled with a pint of ale she had fetched from the Lion and she knew that William would be ravenous after his long shift down the pit. Myra sat down opposite William at the kitchen table and started to eat silently. William poured more gravy on to his pie and began to consume large forkfuls of pie.  He looked up at Myra and said between mouthfuls, “Delicious”. “There’s something I want to tell you,” she said. She was finding it difficult to find the right words. William carried on eating, concentrating on finishing his meal. “William, I’m going to have a baby” she said, almost as a whisper. William stopped chewing, his fork stuck in the last piece of meat, his head slowly lifted and he looked at Myra. Suddenly, he just dropped his fork onto the plate with a clatter, jumped out of his chair. He grabbed Myra by the hands, pulled her out of the chair and began to dance around the small kitchen whooping at the top his voice, swinging Myra around and around. Myra was laughing as they spun, shouting “Stop, Stop”. William did stop and pulled her close to him. He kissed her hard on the lips. “I hope it’s a boy” he said excitedly.
Winter that year was especially cold. There had been lots of snow and spring seemed a long time arriving. Myra was now quite large with the child she carried. She had given up her job at the butchers and William was still working at the pit. She had started to call him Bill although his mother disapproved. March and April passed by and the weather was becoming warmer. The spring daffodils were in full bloom and the new life was emerging everywhere. There were new born lambs frolicking in the fields nearby. It was as though life was starting afresh.  Myra had been to the shops to pick up some groceries. She had baked bread freshly that morning and all the chores were done. Thirza was sat in the rocking chair by the window, the light helping her to see the fine stitches of the small tapestry she was sewing. Myra asked her if she would like a cup of tea and went to put the copper kettle on to the hob over the warm fire. As she bent over she felt a sharp pain in her stomach which caused her to wince. Thirza noticed and asked if she was alright. Myra stood and suddenly felt another twinge of pain. She looked across at Thirza and said “ I think it’s my time.” Thirza smiled reassuringly at her and said, “It will be a few hours yet.”
Bill came home as usual, and realised something was happening. No bath, no dinner. Where was Myra? Where was his mother? He could hear noise upstairs and went to the bottom to the staircase to listen. He could hear Myra moaning and his mother trying to reassure her. He wanted to go upstairs but he knew what was happening. “Push, push now” he could hear his mother saying. Myra was crying out now with pain as the child was being born. And then she stopped. For a few seconds there was silence and then, the cry of that new born baby as it thrust itself into life taking those first few breaths.
William sat with his head clasped in his hands hoping that everything had gone well. So many wives and babies had lost their lives at this moment of childbirth. The child stopped crying and there was a deathly silence. William raised his head and listened intently. A few minutes passed. He heard his mother coming down the stairs. The door creaked open and she leaned out.   She looked across at him through the dim light of the flickering oil lamp. “You have a beautiful daughter. Why don’t you come up and see your wife and your new baby?” William climbed the stairs two at a time almost knocking his mother over in his rush to get to the bedroom. He pushed opened the door. In the candlelight he could see Myra supported by a large pillow with a what looked like a bundle of rags held in her arms. She was smiling. “Come and see your daughter,” she whispered. He walked around the bed to where he could see, bent and kissed Myra on the forehead and peered into the bundle of cloth. He could see a screwed up little face, eyes tightly shut. “She is beautiful” he said and tears began to flood from his eyes as he began to sob. He bent over to Myra and she put her arm around his head and pulled him close to her breast. He heard his mother say, “Come on now, let them rest for a while. You go and take your bath and when I’ve finished tidying up around up here I’ll get you some supper.” William kissed Myra gently on the cheek and pulled aside the small blanket to take another peek at his little girl. “You are both so beautiful” he said and quietly left.
Three weeks later she was baptized with the name of Ann at Greasbrough Parish Church.  
William knew now that it was time to set up his own home. He hated pit life although he had always made enough wages to support his family, like many others, he felt he could do better by finding a job in the Steelworks. It meant moving away from Greasbrough.