FARMER George Moncrieff accidentally struck coal after a German bomb demolished his cow shed one wartime summer's day.

And this led to a widely-held local belief that he had set up his own private mine.

Nothing could have been further from the truth. And though George did extract a small quantity of coal from the ground during excavation work to put his farm foundations right, he was quite entitled to it.

For he owned the mineral rights, and the coal authorities were not involved in any way.

Members of the family of the late Laffak farmer were apparently a bit put off by the recent piece (this page, October 14) about what had been thought to have been a private coalpit dug out of George's lawn in the 1940s. They felt that this local tale had cast a shadow over his impeccable character.

And, in putting the record straight, his daughter Ruth has now unearthed some factual details that, in terms of pure fascination, eclipse even that private mine myth.

She related these to local history buff Kevin Heneghan, retired teacher and lecturer, who has kindly passed on the details.

"Early during the last war, two bombs were dropped in the fields at Laffak," writes Kevin. "A third one landed on the farm itself and demolished the shippon. Fortunately, it was summer and the cattle were out to pasture."

Next day, George Moncrieff found a hole in his breakfast-room floor!

A normal ladder was not long enough to reach the bottom. But, eventually, access was gained to a mysterious brick passageway which headed towards Blackbrook. The end was submerged in water.

More disturbing, however, was the discovery that the big old farmhouse had no foundations!

Vital underpinning could not be inserted from inside, so the reinforcement had to be carried out via a shaft sunk in the garden, at some distance from the walls. A small quantity of coal was unearthed during this work.

Kevin has further learned from George's daughter that at one time her dad had found a discrepancy between the inside and outside dimensions of a bedroom wall. From the loft area above, he was able to gain access to a tiny room, perhaps big enough to hold two people.

A very practical man, George then converted the space into a dressing-room. But the discovery leads to some intriguing speculation.

"The farmhouse, built in the 1660s , would have stood there in priest-hunting days," says Kevin, "and also during the Jacobite rising in 1715 when hiding places in some houses would have been essential."

The room under the loft could have served such a purpose -but what of the mysterious passageway ?

"Was access to it gained from elsewhere on the farm?" Kevin wonders. "And did it connect with the workings of an adit mine (one with a sloping shaft) of which there would have been several in the area?

If this were so, it would have provided an excellent escape route.

"Unfortunately," adds Kevin, "the farm buildings have now gone, so we shall never know the answers."

The big barn, also demolished, was even older than the farmhouse and could have been a tithe barn.

"In bygone days," he points out, "a tenth part of agricultural produce or other income was paid as a tax to support church or clergy.

"A map of the old Prescot parish shows 'Laffog' (an early spelling of Laffak) which seems to confirm this, as the farm was the only substantial dwelling in the district."

The placename was variously spelt as Leafog, Laghok, La Fog and later Laffak, which means Law Oak. Like Broad Oak in Parr, the area was once a Saxon meeting place where laws were made and enforced.

Though the earlier bit about a private mine was rather off target, we've certainly learned a lot by getting it wrong.

APOLOGIES to any members of the Moncrieff clan who might have been embarrassed by that original tale. There was certainly no offence intended.

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.