Legends of Hatfield Cricket Club

Life was good for Henry. Living with his dad may not have been perfect, but it gave him the financial freedom to pursue his passion for music. This was preferable to the mundane or labourious alternatives. As a skilled euphonium player, he became the leader of the Hatfield Town Band. However, his idyllic lifestyle was shattered in 1875 when his beloved wife, Mary, passed away at the age of 46. She was interred at St Etheldreda’s Church on July 8th. Despite his grief, Henry didn’t remain a single man for long. At the same church, just under two years later, on June 28th, 1877, he married for the second time. This time, there was a significant age gap between him and his second wife, Harriet Jane Samuels. She was seventeen years younger than Henry and only nine years older than her new stepdaughter. A year later, Helen gained a half-sister, Ethel Mary. In February 1879, Henry’s responsibilities increased further following his father’s death. He didn’t undertake all of his father’s old roles, but by 1881, he had taken over the taxidermy side of the business. Precisely when Henry’s life began to unravel is unclear; however, his marriage to Harriet does not appear to have endured. It is impossible to be certain of this because, although divorce was legally obtainable, it was not easily accessible to everyone and largely remained a privilege of the upper classes. The first sign that something was amiss came with the 1891 census. Henry and Emily were temporarily staying with his sister Emma and her family at 24 Union Square, Islington. Emma had certainly fallen on her feet. Marrying a man twenty-four years her senior, she was living in a property that, in today’s market, would fetch over £2.3 million. Harriet’s whereabouts escaped the attention of the census compilers. At the turn of the century, Henry’s second family had gone their separate ways. Henry, now listed as a hairdresser, and Ethel were both in Hatfield; he lived with Helen, and she was with an aunt. Harriet had resurfaced and was working as a domestic servant in Islington. In 1902, Ethel married and established a home on Gray’s Inn Road, near King’s Cross Station, employing her mother as a cook. Interestingly, at the time of the 1911 census, Harriet claimed to be a widow. This was curious, as Henry was very much alive, if not kicking. At first glance, it would be tempting to assume that this would be considered less of a stigma than an admission of estrangement. The truth is that she was hiding an even more socially awkward family secret: Henry was a patient at Hill End Asylum. Hill End, now part of St Albans, was at the time situated in a remote area adjacent to the Hatfield & St Albans Railway Branch Line. It wasn’t until the Asylum opened in April 1899 that Hill End appeared on maps. 42

Later, George and Ernest Elliott found themselves within the hospital’s grounds, although thankfully, not as inmates. It became commonplace for the area’s mental institutions to provide facilities for staff cricket teams. It was said that the asylum pitches were of a very high standard due to the ready supply of unpaid labour. Henry didn’t recover and died while still at Hill End. His body was returned to Hatfield for interment at St Etheldreda’s on 23 June 1913. But we are getting ahead of ourselves, and it is time to return to 1883 and an unexpected location. It would be fascinating to explore Helen Cubis’s life between the 1881 census and her marriage to George Elliott in the autumn of 1883. Without being disrespectful to George, a humble shoemaker, it seems unlikely that he was the one who temporarily left Hatfield. The couple married within the registration district of St Giles, situated in the heart of London’s West End. Given her father’s connection to the entertainment industry, would it be too fanciful to suggest that it was the performing arts scene that drew her to the area? Probably, although it was unusual for her, at eighteen, to be without gainful employment. The truth is likely more mundane. After returning to Hatfield, the couple welcomed their first child, George Henry Elliott, in the spring of 1884. Therefore, Helen was likely pregnant when she walked down the aisle. This is a recurring theme of the book. In the UK during the 1980s and early 1990s, the media subjected the population to endless rants by Tory politicians and self-appointed ‘spokespersons’ of the so-called moral majority, ranting about Victorian values and how the 1960s sexual revolution had somehow ‘invented’ pre-marital sex. Today, it is impossible to comprehend the shame projected onto unmarried mothers. So, how do these Victorian values stack up? It has been estimated that in England in 1850, approximately forty per cent of brides were pregnant when they walked down the aisle. The age of the shotgun wedding has rightfully been consigned to the past, but I would hazard a guess that the number of women conceiving for the first time while unmarried is no higher today than it has ever been. Home for the Elliotts was 4 Pond Hill, which was a colloquialism for the French Horn Lane end of Batterdale. As already stated at the beginning of this chapter, Ernest Elliott was born on Bonfire Night in 1885. With the population of Hatfield considerably lower than that of today, it should not be surprising to learn that inter-club relationships were commonplace, and three days after Ernest’s birth, his cousin, Alfred James Groom, the second son of William and Sarah Groom, was baptised. Sarah was the younger 43

sister of George, who was a Hatfield CC contemporary of William’s. Five of William and Sarah’s sons would grow up to be cricketers with the club. A quick word on Ernest Elliott’s name. In all of his books on cricket and football in Hatfield, H J Gray names him Ernest Edward Elliott. I have checked his birth, marriage, and death registrations, school admission records, marriage banns, and every census conducted in his lifetime. I have even visited his grave. In none of them is he attributed a middle name. Over time, Ernest was joined by six additional siblings: Emily Florence (1889), Helen Annie (1895), Lilian Maude (1898), Ethel Mildred (1900), Francis Herbert ‘Frank’ (1902), and Ronald John (1906). As has been seen, it was not uncommon for a couple to have eight children, but it was unusual for them to have such a large family spread out over a long period. Helen was forty-three when she gave birth to Ronald, twenty-two years after George Henry. Although Ezekiel remained faithful to the nonconformist Park Street Chapel, George and Helen switched allegiance to the parish church of St Etheldreda’s, where Ernest’s younger brothers and sisters were baptised. Since the Elementary Education Act of 1870, school attendance had been compulsory from the age of five, although this was not always enforced in practice. Therefore, it was surprising that Ernest was admitted to the London Road (National) School in Hatfield on March 18, 1889, when he was only three years and four months old. The school was built by public subscription in 1850, the year the railway came to Hatfield. It was located on a section of the Great North Road, roughly where car showrooms stand today, near the junction with French Horn Lane. It was initially intended for girls and infants, but after the building was extended in 1854, boys from Puttocks Oak (Beaconsfield Road) were also transferred to the school. At this time, the headmaster was Walter Whitby (1862–1915), a prominent player and future treasurer of Hatfield CC. During Ernest’s time, education was only compulsory until the age of eleven. He likely left school around that age or soon after. While education was important, supporting the growing family became a more immediate concern. He found work as a grocer’s assistant, though the specific grocery store where he worked among the five in the old town is not known. The closest shop to the family home was Smith & Co in Batterdale, while William King’s shop on Park Street, situated across from his grandfather’s bootmaker’s shop, was also nearby. Additionally, Petitt & Co. on Fore Street, William Price on Park Street, and John Gregory on Park Street, next to the Horse & Groom, were all within a short walk from home. Although it’s not 44

crucial to know which shop he worked at, it was through this early employment that his peers gave him the nickname ‘Shoppy,’ a name that would stick with him for life. Like Father Like Son Shoppy’s love of cricket came from his father, so it would be amiss not to take a quick look at George Elliott’s time with Hatfield Cricket Club. There were two distinct phases to George’s playing career. In the 1880s, he was a bowler who could bat, but as the 1890s progressed, it was his batting that was thrust to the fore, and he became nothing more than an occasional bowler. Although it wasn’t simply a matter of the captains refusing to throw him the ball, the main reason he was no longer turning his arm over (or round, or under) was that, by 1895, he had taken up wicket-keeping. Judged solely on the number of stumpings attributed to him, the evidence is that he was very adept at this part of the game. It is unclear when this transformation began because the surviving club records from the early 1890s are sparse. The first signs of his emergence as a batsman came in 1894 when an account of the club’s end-of-season dinner appeared in the Hertfordshire Mercury. Only the bare bones of the club’s averages were reported, but Elliott came third in the batting with 11.5, a considerable margin behind Tom Blinko’s 30.6. With twelve of his innings for the season known, it is a fair assumption that his highest score of the season came on 5 July, when he hit 41 runs against St Albans Early Closers. The following season, George finished third in the batting averages for the second consecutive season. This time, his batting record is known: 14 innings, 0 not out, 172 runs, with an average of 12.29. Four additional runs would have secured him second place, but he still trailed significantly behind Harry Cox’s average of 20.14. He could not be considered a model of consistency in his batting during 1895. Two of his innings contributed 112 runs to his total, while the other twelve added only 60. On 22 June, he registered his first successful innings of the season, scoring 52 and singlehandedly guiding Hatfield to a draw against Totteridge. Later in the season, on 10 August, his highest score (60) was achieved in a winning cause, as Hatfield defeated St Mark’s by 80 runs. Because no statistics were published after the conclusion of the 1896 season, it is impossible to do more than speculate about whether he was progressing. However, the available evidence suggests that he was – newspaper reports indicate he averaged 16 from ten innings. A highlight of his season would have been batting alongside Francis Ford of England and 45

Middlesex when Hatfield played against Welwyn on 4 June. Playing second fiddle to Ford’s total of 75, Elliott’s 42 helped ease Hatfield to a comfortable victory. Unfortunately, the pair’s partnership was not recorded for posterity. Thankfully, it was reported in the Herts Advertiser that when the club sat down for its annual dinner at the One Bell Inn on Thursday, 30 September 1897, ‘The Chairman presented the bat and ball given to the gentlemen on top of the batting and bowling averages. Mr G Elliott received the bat amid applause.’ His record for the season read 16 innings, 2 not outs, 312 runs, and an average of 22.29. On his way to the prize, he also made the highest score of his career with 83 not out against Bell Bar at Hatfield Park on 23 June. It was a complete mismatch, with Hatfield winning by 139 runs, the visitors dismissed for 23. Before the season was over, Elliott had bagged himself another half-century on 21 August. In the words of the Barnet Press, ‘George Elliott’s 54 for Hatfield against the GNR [Great Northern Railways Athletic Association] was due to capital cricket. Had time permitted, his score would probably have won the match for his side.’ As it was, the match petered out into a tame draw. The fifth and final half-century of his career was scored on 13 August 1898. Wheathampstead arrived at Hatfield Park two players short, borrowed fifteen-year-old Edgar Vodden (a future secretary of Hatfield CC), and played the match with ten men. Elliott was one of the few players to gain any satisfaction from the afternoon, scoring 52 not out in Hatfield’s total of 124 for three declared. Nobody reached double figures for the visitors, who were bowled out for 18. After the brief flurry in the mid-1890s, it would not be until 1902 that the club’s averages were deemed worthy of publication by the press. It was not a great year for the club’s batters, and George finished second in the batting with 190 runs from 20 innings (4 not out) at an average of 11.87. This modest average was dependent on two unbeaten knocks of 39 and 36 against H W Stride’s XI and Welwyn, respectively. From this point on, Elliott’s playing career began to wind down, and he was reduced to occasional appearances before calling it a day in 1906. George also offered his assistance to the club in non-playing matters in various ways. As a boot maker, he was skilled in working with leather, and a curious entry in the club’s accounts book from 1885 reveals that this skill was used in a manner unfamiliar to modern cricketers. Cricket balls were a costly commodity at the time, and the club must have been repurposing used balls, as he was compensated three shillings for ‘mending balls.’ At some point before 1898, he was appointed as the club’s groundsman, a pos46

ition with an honorarium. Whatever the year he began tending the ground, it was likely the same time he became a member of the club’s committee. His tenure as groundsman ended in 1901, when he was succeeded by his brother-in-law, William Groom. However, he remained on the committee until 1907, when he was obliged to step down for an unfortunate reason, as will be explained. The Hatfield Hyde Years Hatfield Hyde Cricket Club was originally founded in 1889; however, this version of the club did not last. In the Hatfield Parish Magazine for June 1905, it was reported that a new club had recently been established. The impetus for the revival came from a gentleman named Gurney Shepherd, who became president and treasurer, and also provided the club with playing equipment. In its inaugural season, they played in a field rented to them by a Mr Sherriff, but this was only a temporary arrangement. The following year, Lord Salisbury made available a three-acre portion of a field at a reduced rental for use as a ground, which he fenced in at no cost and supplied materials for building a shed at a reduced rate. Arthur Stride of Bush Hall, previously mentioned in connection with H W Stride’s XI, agreed to cover the rent. The young cricketers of Hatfield experienced frustration in their attempts to break into the town club’s eleven at the turn of the century. Consequently, many talented players abandoned Hatfield CC and instead chose to play for the club in the neighbouring village of Hatfield Hyde, which, at least administratively, remained part of Hatfield. (Ebenezer Howard had only recently embarked on the creation of his first garden city at Letchworth, and his second at Welwyn did not begin life until 1920.) Over time, this created problems for the town club, as the youngsters – having gained valuable playing experience – preferred to keep playing with their peers rather than return ‘home.’ The earliest reference to Shoppy appearing on a cricket field was in the Barnet Press report of Hatfield’s visit to Friern Barnet on Thursday, 31 August 1899. Except for Alfred Whitby, who was presumably captaining the side, it was a very young and inexperienced Hatfield XI. It had echoes of George Elliott’s debut in 1880, when the club underestimated the strength of the opposition for a trip to Barnet, and the outcome was the same: a demoralising defeat. Just as his father had done before him, Ernest Elliott began his time with Hatfield CC by scoring a pair of ducks on debut. It is difficult to be sure of Shoppy’s whereabouts between 1899 and the 47

formation of the new Hyde club. There was an occasional sighting. On 13 July 1901, he played for a Hatfield Junior XI that lost to St Mark’s (Woodhill) by 74 runs against 37. A month later, on 17 August, he was found opening the batting for the Hatfield Working Men’s Club’s team against Lemsford. For a sixteen-year-old to be opening the batting in an adult cricket match is an indication of his perceived potential. Not that he excelled on this occasion, scoring seven runs in both the first and second innings. He was still with the Working Men at the beginning of the 1904 season and was involved in an extraordinary encounter on 28 May against South Mimms. HWMC batted first and, thanks to Shoppy’s contribution of 14, they posted a total of 103 runs. So far, nothing unusual. The report in the Barnet Press failed to adequately describe the drama that unfolded when South Mimms batted: ‘The visitors won the toss and elected to bat. They had the best of the wicket, which became terribly cut up by the time the home team batted, and this, in addition to the bad light, spelt disaster for South Mimms. However, both teams had a pleasant time together.’ You have to admire the tenacity to blame the wicket, which had caused the Hatfield men no difficulty, for their being dismissed for four! This total included two extras and nine ducks. Only C Gerken, with two runs, could hold his head up. Chief tormentor of the South Mimms batters was postman Arthur Hammond, a Hatfield CC player, who accounted for eight of them. How many of the two runs were attributed to his bowling is an unanswered question. In 1903, at the age of eighteen, he was given an opportunity with Hatfield; however, it turned out to be a miserable experience for young Shoppy. This may be unjust, as the surviving records for the season are far from complete. From five known visits to the crease, he accumulated a dismal total of four runs and two ducks. He batted only twice in the three games he is known to have played the following season, resulting in scores of four not out and one. With this in mind, it is understandable that he felt compelled to leave his father’s club and seek his luck with Hatfield Hyde. Against lesser opponents, he would have the chance to develop his game and, perhaps more importantly, gain some confidence. For Hatfield, he had been thrust into the deep end against the likes of Arkley and Cockfosters, two of the strongest clubs in the area at the time. The announcement of Hatfield Hyde’s Lazarus-inspired return was accompanied by the confirmation that six fixtures had been arranged for the 1905 season. There may have been more, but their progress was absent 48

from the local press. There is no record of Shoppy playing for Hatfield that year, so it must be assumed that he made the switch. Yes, it was a lower standard of cricket than he had been exposed to with Hatfield, but even so, the transformation in Shoppy’s level of performance was immense. Maybe he enjoyed playing in the sunshine. In Hyde’s end-ofseason report, it was noted that ‘no rain came to mar a single match during the whole course of a long and beautiful summer.’ Following the club’s first season since reforming, Shoppy was presented with the prize bat donated by Mr F Taylor for leading the batting averages. He ended the season with an average of 17.8 runs from 16 innings, which was most likely 267 runs with one not out. He also recorded the season’s highest individual score, making 57 runs, although the opposition was not specified. That wasn’t his only fifty of the season; he also contributed a match-winning innings of 52 not out against Tewin on 30 June, after the top four had been removed for a combined total of two. The season also witnessed a sign of the shape of things to come with the emergence of Shoppy as an all-rounder. Among the few reports was news of a five-wicket haul against St Mark’s– his first of many. Before the 1907 season began, the fickle hand of fate dealt two severe blows to the Elliott family. A year or two prior, Ezekiel had put aside his boot-making tools and relocated to Alma Road, St Albans, with Mary, to enjoy their retirement. While The Horn is situated at the northern end of Alma Road, to the south lies 103 London Road, home to the showroom of Marlboro Motors (a subsidiary of General Motors), which serviced Vauxhall and Bedford owners. Conveniently located near St Albans (London Road) railway station on the Hatfield-St Albans branch line, Shoppy had secured employment there as a motor-painter. Zeki passed away on 19 March, and his body was returned to Hatfield for interment at the Park Street Chapel graveyard. Just forty days after the passing of his grandfather, Shoppy’s father, George Elliott, passed away on April 28, 1907, at the age of 46. They did not delay in those times. Although his death was described as ‘sudden’, he was laid to rest three days later at St Luke’s Church. Relatives of George, in conversation with H J Gray, attributed his untimely death to excessive indulgence in the offerings of Bacchus, the Roman god of wine. A Fire Brigade volunteer, his body was transported to the church on a fire engine, surrounded by lovely floral tributes, and followed not only by family mourners but also by uniformed members of the Fire Brigade. Although Shoppy was twenty-two, his widowed mother had to care for three children, all under 49

the age of ten. Shoppy was now the sole breadwinner in the family, which probably necessitated the move to Arm & Sword Yard. Colloquially known as ‘blood and guts alley’, the only section of the yard left standing is the narrow alleyway that lies between the Horse & Groom and what was, until recently, the Jaipur Indian restaurant. Once upon a time, in the days before street lighting, this passageway, enclosed by buildings on both sides, ran up to the Great Northern. From all descriptions, it was probably not a choice place to live. Despite his hardships off the field, or perhaps inspired by them, 1907 proved to be his most successful season to date. For the second consecutive year, Shoppy topped the Hatfield Hyde batting averages and achieved the highest individual score. His statistics for the season read 16 innings (1 not out), 336 runs, and an average of 22.4. Now a genuine all-rounder, although the club’s bowling averages were not maintained, it was reported that he took the most wickets, with 78 victims to his name. His best-known figures were six for 24 against North Mymms. Due to the limited supply of statistics throughout his playing days, it is impossible to be certain, but this was probably the best return of wickets of his career to date. He also managed to make at least one appearance for Hatfield. When they played against Essendon on 1 June, he took seven wickets for 15 runs, demonstrating to the club what they were missing. H J Gray, who would only have seen him in the twilight of his career, had this to say of his batting ability. ‘Shoppy Elliott probably measured, in inches, around his barrel-like chest, very little less than he stood in his bare feet. Perhaps this power in his “pump-house” gave him the extraordinary ability to hoist a cricket ball from his bat to score some of the biggest sixes the writer has witnessed in over 50 years of experience in cricket at all levels. It was this violent hitting which gained him his reputation, which is legendary amongst those cricket clubs who “suffered” at his hands. Like all cavalier batsmen, he did not, however, always succeed, but on those occasions when he did, they were little gems in the art of how to despatch a ball with willow and memorable to see, to say the least.’ As a result of this cavalier approach, staying at the crease long enough to score a century was an ongoing challenge. The closest he came to this landmark for Hatfield Hyde was against C W Dixon’s XI on 24 August. Shoppy, who had opened the batting, had scored 92 out of Hyde’s total of 157 for eight when his captain declared on him. With Dixon’s XI rolled over for 46, in retrospect, this was a touch premature. 50

Elliott completed a hat-trick of batting prizes in 1908 by heading the Hatfield Hyde averages for the third year in a row, and again hit the highest score of the season with 71 against unnamed opponents. On this occasion he averaged 16 from 19 innings. This time, proper bowling averages were compiled, and although he was again the leading wicket-taker with 54, his average of 6.61 runs per wicket was only good enough to secure him fifth spot. The amount of cricket Shoppy played in 1909 remains a matter of debate. Reports for both Hatfield clubs were sparse, and his only known appearances include two matches for Hatfield, with a score of 38 runs against Letchworth, and a sole outing for Hyde, where he took five wickets for 9 runs against Hatfield Working Men’s Club. He was notably absent from Hatfield Hyde’s end-of-season averages. With third place in the batting secured by the lowly average of 6.50, it is difficult to believe, considering his form in previous seasons, that Shoppy wouldn’t have surpassed this. It was said that Hatfield Hyde had lost ten players. Shoppy was one of them, albeit temporarily. Nothing is known of Hyde’s activities throughout the 1910 season; however, from the erratic appearances of Hatfield in the local press, it is evident that he played in at least eight matches for his hometown club. Against opponents of a higher calibre than those he faced while playing for Hatfield Hyde, he struggled to make an impact, although he fared better against weaker competitors. On 28 May, he delivered his best performance to date with the bat for Hatfield. Ekin’s & Co., the work team of a firm of builders from Hertford, were no match for Hatfield. Shoppy (88) and Alfred Groom (57 not out) propelled them to a total of 157 for two declared. Such statistics do not exist, but the second wicket partnership of approximately 150 would likely have stood as a club record. On the opening day of the 1911 season, Shoppy produced a man-ofthe-match performance for Hatfield but ended on the losing side. After taking seven for 28 against North Mymms Park, his 36 runs left his side requiring ten runs for victory with five wickets remaining. They lost by four runs. Although he made a few more appearances for the town club, his remaining successes came for the Hyde, and all with the ball. For his season’s best, he rubbed his sometime teammates’ faces in the dirt. In Hatfield Park on 5 August, he took seven wickets for 16 and scored 34 runs as Hyde defeated Hatfield by 65 runs. Hatfield United Part 1 Because Hatfield had a relatively small population, there was consider51

able overlap among the members of its various sports clubs. Whether it was football, tennis, or athletics, any report making its way into the local press would include the names of Hatfield cricketers. For Shoppy, football was his other passion. The link between Hatfield CC and football was strong. On Tuesday, 5 October 1886, a meeting of members of the cricket club was held at the One Bell Inn, where it was resolved to form a football club in connection with the cricket club. Named Hatfield FC, the club initially played in the Mid-Herts League, using Hatfield Park as its home ground. Lord Salisbury became tired of hosting a football team, and the agreement allowing them to play in his park was terminated in 1906. This created something of a dilemma for Hatfield’s football fraternity. The town now had only one football pitch, the Show Field at St Albans Road, but it had two football teams: Hatfield FC and Dagmar House School Old Boys FC. The solution was a simple one. The clubs chose to merge rather than compete for the only available pitch, leading to the formation of Hatfield United FC. Shoppy’s position is not explicitly mentioned anywhere. However, insideleft appears to be the most likely position, judging by line-ups in newspaper reports and team photographs, in which the players rather conveniently arranged themselves in formation. In the 2-3-5 formation that was de rigueurat the time, the inside-left played between the left-winger and the centreforward. He played for the club during a silverware-laden period and picked up five winners’ medals in five seasons. The first season of the merged club, 1906-07, had hinted at what was to come with a second-place finish in the Mid-Herts League Division II and reaching the final of the Mid-Herts Cup. It was the Mid-Herts Cup that proved to be the most fruitful route to success during this period. The competition was the brainchild of William Henry Bingham-Cox, and his desire for a cup for junior clubs was realised during a meeting at the Temperance Hotel, London Road, on 12th September 1892. Rule number one stipulated that all competing clubs must lie within a six-mile radius of St Albans Town Hall, and the entry fee for clubs to participate in the competition was set at five shillings. The new cup, crafted by Messrs Elkington & Co Ltd of Regents Street, London, was displayed in St Albans for the first time at Market Cross in the Bingham Cox store a week before the final, which took place on Easter Monday, 3rd April 1893. The Bingham Cox Cup, as it is officially titled, became a staple fixture in the football calendar, with the final held on Easter Monday at Clarence Park, St Albans, each year. 52

Medal number one for Shoppy came a year after the cup final defeat when they returned to Clarence Park to face Redbourn on 20 April 1908. Hatfield’s XI on the day included four cricketers, with William ‘Claggy’ Hart, Billy Watson, and Arthur ‘Punch’ Warner joining Shoppy. From the newspaper report, it sounds like Punch Warner gave the Redbourn keeper a good old-fashioned shoulder barge (now sadly eliminated from the game), causing him to drop the ball, and Punch slipped round him and slid the ball into the empty net for the only goal of the match. The photograph of the victorious Hatfield United FC team with the cup was taken in front of the present-day cricket pavilion, so it is possible that the football ground as we know it today was not yet in situ. United returned to Clarence Park on 12 April 1909, for a third successive appearance in the final of the Bingham Cox Cup, to play St Albans Reserves. The semi-final had been a hard-fought affair. Playing against Harpenden in front of nearly 900 spectators at the Abbey ground, an owngoal from a Hatfield free-kick was the only score of the game, after which it was backs to the wall defending. St Albans City Reserves, playing on their home ground in front of a large crowd, would have expected to lift the cup. However, in what was described by the Athletic Chat as ‘a disappointing affair’, Hatfield retained the trophy they had won twelve months previously, beating the ‘home’ team by one goal to nil. The goal-scorer was Hatfield CC’s William ‘Claggy’ Hart, described by the Athletic Chat as approaching the ‘veteran stage’ and ‘if a trifle slow, still proves that brainy work is often more successful than speed.’ Their third success in the competition in five seasons, and the last for twenty-four years, arrived on 8 April 1912, when they beat Fleetville FC two-nil. Their opponents’ time in the limelight was fleeting, if you will pardon the pun. They joined the Herts County League (Western Division) for the 1912-13 season, and after a solitary campaign in the league, promptly disappeared from view. Between their Bingham Cox Cup triumphs, the club also tasted glory in the Herts Junior Cup. With Easter Monday seemingly the go-to day for cup finals in Hertfordshire, Hatfield United met Baldock at Welwyn on 17 April 1911. In front of a record crowd in what was described as ‘delightful weather,’ the Letchworth Citizen reported that both teams were at full strength. According to what must be described as a partisan match report, Hatfield executed a hit-and-run job on their opponents. United took the lead after 30 minutes with a goal described as ‘undoubtedly offside’. To compound the sense of injustice, in the second half, with a Baldock player clean 53

through and one-on-one with the keeper, ‘the referee accidentally blew his whistle.’ Twenty minutes from the time, Hatfield doubled their advantage to secure victory by two goals to nil. As far as league football was concerned, they were the champions of the Herts County League (Eastern Division) in the 1911-12 season. That year, the league was divided into three regional divisions, with Letchworth Athletic and Harpenden Town winning the Northern and Western Divisions, respectively. The three champions then competed in a round-robin ‘champions’ pool to determine the overall winner. In their two matches, Hatfield United beat Letchworth by three goals to two and drew one-all with Harpenden. But with Harpenden triumphant against Letchworth by two goals to one, they pipped Hatfield to the title by the long-forgotten decider of goal average (1.5 to 1.33). Hatfield United Part 2 Shoppy came home to Hatfield Park full-time in 1912, thanks to the efforts of Hatfield CC’s captain, the Reverend Claude Thomas Thellusson Wood. The Rev. Wood grew increasingly frustrated that, with Hatfield's cricketing talent divided between two clubs, the town's standing within the county had diminished. At Wood’s insistence, the process of merging Hatfield and Hatfield Hyde commenced in November 1911 and was officially approved on 30 March 1912, leading to the birth of Hatfield United Cricket Club. Shoppy demonstrated his commitment to the new venture by being elected to the club’s inaugural committee. It was a short-lived endeavour that failed to survive the First World War, but the three seasons preceding the hostilities were dominated by one man, Ernest Elliott. Admittedly, from incomplete statistics, but as far as can be seen, in the three seasons in the run-up to the war, Shoppy scored more half-centuries than any other Hatfield batsman and took five wickets in an innings more times than any of its bowlers. In all likelihood, he was the top run-scorer and wicket-taker to boot. In the 1912 season, it was his bowling that was to the fore. On his first recorded appearance of the summer, at Hatfield Park on 11 May, Shoppy took all five of the Letchworth wickets to fall. Seven days later, when Hatfield travelled to the Hill End Asylum, where Henry Cubis had been a patient, he produced his best performance of the season. Batting first, Shoppy had contributed 39 runs to the club’s total of 186 for six declared, before he destroyed the Asylum’s innings by taking eight wickets to lead his side to a 55-run victory. His wicket-taking run continued the following week with 54

four wickets against Potters Bar on Saturday, and again on Whit-Monday at Gordon Hill, with a further six wickets against GNR Athletic Association. Before the summer ended, he achieved further success with the ball against St Andrews (Hertford) (6 wickets), Bowes Park (5 wickets), and Letchworth (5 wickets). Although he conceded the bowling prize to Vincent Austin by a narrow margin of 0.49 runs per wicket, he took more than twice as many wickets as Austin or any other 1st XI bowler, making him the club’s leading wicket-taker. His statistics for the season were 155.1 overs, 59 wickets for 142 runs, and an average of 7.66. He was closely challenged in the race for the most wickets by two 2nd XI bowlers, brothers Walter (56) and Alfred Bracey (53). This was due to the merger being, in many ways, a marriage of convenience. The 1st XI was based at Hatfield Park while the 2nd XI played their home matches at Hatfield Hyde. Players living in Hatfield Hyde, including the Bracey brothers, opted to play for the 2nd XI, even if their abilities warranted a higher standard of cricket. The brothers’ bowling averages in 1912 are the first and fourth lowest in the club’s history. With the bat, Shoppy only managed to hit one fifty. He came close on 25 May at Potters Bar, when he was dismissed three runs short in a match that included only five scores of double figures. Eventually, Elliott successfully passed the half-century mark with an undefeated 63 against C W Dixon’s XI on 20 July in a comfortable Hatfield victory. In all probability, there was a second fifty. In three innings for the 2nd XI, he scored 113 runs, and with the hit-or-miss nature of his batting, it would be uncharacteristic for him to have made three good but not-too-good scores. Shoppy didn’t make it into the leading positions in the published batting averages, so his total number of runs is unknown. By piecing together the available information, it can be said with confidence that he scored at least 331 runs, compared with the Reverend Wood’s 266, the highest previously reported. 1913 was a season of two halves, although that may have been distorted by a tailing off in the quality of press reporting in the latter stages of summer. It started well, at least from a personal perspective, on the first weekend. In the words of the Herts Advertiser, Hatfield took ‘a rather weak team to New Southgate’ on Whit-Monday, 6 May, to take on Bowes Park TAC. AC would have been Athletic Club, but T is anyone’s guess. Despite the weak nature of the side, Shoppy took five quick wickets to put Hatfield in a strong position before a spirited seventh-wicket partnership allowed the home team to recover and post a total of 81. Hatfield’s reply was depressing, to say the least. No one managed to reach double figures in a paltry total of 36. Set a target of 124 runs in an hour and a half to win in the second in55

nings, after Shoppy had ‘batted well and scored 63 in fine style,’ Hatfield required 35 more runs with six wickets remaining. They lost by 24 runs! Unexpectedly, this was the only record of Shoppy taking five wickets in 1913, although his overall average would suggest that he had a successful season. Only the bare statistics were reported, and with an average of 7.06 runs per wicket, he finished in third place overall. It would be interesting to know how many runs he scored in total. The early weeks of the season saw a plethora. His 63 against Bowes Park TAC was followed by 61 (Linotype, 17 May), 56 (Welwyn, 7 June), and 49 not out (Hill End Asylum, 21 June). All that can be stated with confidence is that an average of 25.64 placed him second in the batting averages, and he scored at least 359 runs, an improvement on the better-reported season of 1912. Although his average was lower than William Groom’s (71.80), it seems Groom reached that figure from relatively few innings, highlighted by some impressive scores. In general, William was only available for selection in the Thursday XI. With war declared before the end of the 1914 season, it is understandable that the club’s averages, if they were compiled, did not find their way onto the pages of the newspapers, which, understandably, had more pressing concerns to report on. This was a shame for Shoppy as he would have been in contention for both batting and bowling prizes. A sign of things to come was laid down in an early-season fixture against Linotype on 23 May at Hatfield Park. First, the visitors were bowled out for 21, and it doesn’t require the services of a mathematician to work out that Shoppy’s five wickets would have been taken cheaply. Hatfield’s captain on the day, Daniel Ellingham, knew how to make himself popular with his teammates. He was the only other bowler called upon, and later he and Shoppy opened the batting. Hatfield ended the day without loss, with Shoppy unbeaten on 37. A month later, against W Lane’s XI on 20 June, he excelled himself and produced arguably the finest all-round performance in the club’s history. Bowling throughout the innings, Shoppy delivered the best bowling figures of his career, taking nine wickets for 39 runs. Set a target of 74 runs for victory, Hatfield stumbled by losing four early wickets. Shoppy, batting at four, steered his side safely home with a knock of 72, Hatfield batting on to make a total of 141. The following week, with Hatfield defending a total of 67, he was instrumental in the match ending in a tie by removing eight Hatfield Estate batters for 31 runs. It was his batting that came to the fore next against Welwyn on 18 July. 56

Hatfield were in serious trouble at 30 for five, but Shoppy decided that attack was the best form of defence. Launching a blistering counter-attack, he bludgeoned the ball to all parts of the ground before finally being bowled for 96, his highest score to date. Hatfield played one short, which may have been costly, as Welwyn were able to hang on for the draw with their last pair at the crease when ‘time’ was called. It did not remain as his highest score for long. On 20 August, in what was supposed to be a ‘friendly’ game to welcome the 19th City of London Regiment to Hatfield, who had arrived as part of the war preparations, Shoppy wasn’t feeling particularly hospitable. On a rare appearance for the Thursday XI, he scored the only century of his career, hitting 117 not out in Hatfield’s total of 160 for two declared. For good measure, he was also the pick of the Hatfield bowlers, finishing with figures of four for 24 to set up a comfortable 85-run victory. Welcome to Hatfield boys! With only newspaper reports as a guide, it is known that he took five wickets on at least three more occasions, the last of which, against St Albans ‘B’, was accompanied by 47 runs with the bat. From the same source, it can be deduced that Shoppy took at least 48 wickets, higher than anyone else, although, of course, the quantity of wickets alone would not be suffcient to top the averages. It was the same story in the batting, with no one coming close to matching his recorded total of 435 runs. His final average would, in all likelihood, have been lower; however, made from only ten completed knocks, these were scored at 43.5 runs per innings, a very healthy return for the time. The War Years Such was the volume of male citizens required for the war effort that, with its teams depleted, cricket in Hatfield came to a close in 1915 and did not resume until after the armistice. Hatfield CC, as it was once again called, the United Club being an early victim of the conflict, played a single match before calling it a day. Their opponents on Thursday, 24 May, were the 1/10th County of London Regiment, who, in July, presented the club with a silver cup as a thank-you for the hospitality they had enjoyed in Hatfield Park. It is from the engraving on the trophy that we can be certain the name change had already occurred. The army men emerged victorious that day; however, Shoppy managed to console himself by taking seven wickets in the Regiment’s first innings. The first full year of the war was a busy one for Shoppy. By the time a less raucous rendition of Auld Lang Syne than usual marked the passing of 57

1915 and the coming of 1916, he had a wife and had become a father. Of all the family backgrounds researched for this book, that of Caroline Jane Berry, the future Mrs Elliott, proved to be the most challenging. Fortunately, it provided some interesting titbits. Caroline’s grandfather, Edward Berry, was baptised on 7 December 1828 at St Nicholas Church, which at that time stood separately to the northeast of the town we now know as Stevenage. The ninth child of Samuel and Susan Berry, the family’s home address was noted on the baptismal records of Edward’s elder siblings as being ‘near the Rook’s Nest’. Initially, I thought this was a quaint country expression to describe the location of their home; however, Rook’s Nest Farm still stands today on Weston Road, just a stone’s throw from the church. The farm’s barns date from at least the middle of the nineteenth century and remain there today. Originally a labourer, by the time of Edward’s birth, his father had become a shepherd. Before his mother died in 1832, likely from exhaustion, she had given birth twelve times. Samuel soon remarried and, with his new wife, Mary, gave Edward six half-siblings, bringing Samuel’s total number of children to eighteen. The family evaded the attention of the 1841 census compilers, but by 1851, Samuel was farming 12 acres of land in Pin Green. Like St Nicholas, Pin Green had yet to be integrated into Stevenage and remained a village in its own right. Her paternal grandmother, Caroline Ansell, grew up in Stevenage. Baptised in St Nicholas (the only church in the town at the time) on 1 February 1835, she spent her early years in Malting Yard. Although it does not appear on contemporary maps, one might reasonably assume the malt house was situated near the brewery, which was located on Albert Street in the nineteenth century. Following the death of her father in the early 1840s, life became difficult for her widowed mother. In the days before the welfare state, being poor was a heavy burden. However, with its closure in 1835, the Ansells were spared the humiliation of being forced to reside in the local workhouse, and by 1851, they were living on Back Lane (now Church Lane). Although Caroline and her mother were classified as paupers, her two younger brothers, aged 13 and 11, worked as agricultural labourers, ensuring at least some income for the household. Escape from poverty for Caroline Sr came on 8 January 1859 when, at St Nicholas Church (where else), she married Edward Berry. It cannot have been long after their marriage that the couple left Stevenage behind, for although they were absent from the 1861 census, they had arrived in Hatfield before the birth, in 1862, of their first child (and Caroline Jr’s father), 58

William John (known in later life as ‘Geezer’). As with many others before and after him in the years following 1850, it was the Great Northern Railway that brought Edward to Hatfield. The company employed him as a platelayer, which meant that he was responsible for laying and maintaining railway tracks. While the profession gave its name to a public house in Batterdale, Old Hatfield, the family resided in Newtown, a conurbation that had, appropriately, begun life to house railway workers. Life in the 1860s had been rosy for the Berry family. There was a steady flow of siblings for William with the arrival of Edward Charles (1863), Emma (1866), Vincent (1868), Walter (1869), and Jane (1871). Sadly, this cordial existence was shattered within months of the birth of Jane by the death of Caroline. By today’s standards, to die aged 36 would be considered tragic, but, alas, such was the state of public hygiene in Victorian times that it was, unfortunately, an occupational hazard. With his wife’s death occurring so soon after a census, it is impossible to know how Edward coped with raising a young family on his own. Because his salary as a railwayman was likely insufficient to hire help, he may have turned instead to one of his seventeen siblings or to one of their children. Either way, four years later, William had a step-mum, who had something of a past! Ann Merritt Munt, the daughter of a bricklayer, was baptised at the Holy Trinity Church in Weston on 8 March 1835. At seventeen, she married Isaac Sutton, who was of a similar age, in the same church on September 6, 1852. It is difficult to say as the birth cannot be found on any official register, but in the shape of things to come, at best, she was heavily pregnant when walking down the aisle. In the absence of a recorded birth, it is believed that Anna (or Hannah – the records are inconsistent) was born before the marriage. Shortly after the birth of their third child, Ann was widowed at the premature age of 23. In 1861, Ann moved to Back Lane in Stevenage, which happened to be the same street where Caroline Ansell was living. This may, of course, be a coincidence. From the surviving properties, it is hard to imagine how crowded life must have been. Housing three generations, eleven people were crammed into a single house. Whereas today it is the exception for a mother not to have a career, the opposite was the case in days gone by. Ann’s mother was a straw plaiter, and this trade was passed down to Ann, her four sisters, who were still living with their parents, and two of her daughters, aged nine and six, respectively. Before 1871, and presumably before Ann’s bricklaying father died in 1863, the family moved to Brick Kiln Lane Alley. Modern maps show a 59

Brick Kiln Road; however, this street doesn’t appear on contemporary ones. There used to be an area known as Brickkiln End on the eastern side of the railway tracks to the modern road, and the best guess is that the alley was in the approximate area of the roundabout linking Trinity Road and Lytton Way. To return to dismantling the myth of the so-called Victorian values, while living in Stevenage, the merry widow gave birth to at least three illegitimate children. It was not customary for the father to be named in such circumstances, making it impossible to ascertain whether there was one or more men involved. To complete the circle, Anna (or Hannah), who was speculated to have been born out of wedlock, produced a bastard child of her own in 1871. Not long after becoming a grandmother, Ann moved her family to Hatfield. There, in 1873, she was at it again, adding another daughter to the family. There is little doubt that Edward was the father of this girl, as in the 1881 census, she is described as his daughter, in contrast to one of her brothers, who was labelled a stepson. The couple eventually married on 19 June 1875 at St Etheldreda’s and moved, with William in tow, to Balloon Corner, Welham Green. A memorial stone stands at the corner to commemorate a piece of aviation history. On the afternoon of Wednesday, 15 September 1784, the Italian balloonist, Vincenzo Lunardi, when making the first manned voyage over England, made an impromptu landing in a cornfield near the parish border with Northaw to release his travel-sick cat! Why Bottom Corner was named after an event that occurred three miles away is unclear. Brazilian hats appear to be the unlikely matchmaker between Caroline’s maternal grandparents. The story of this side of the family is rather more mundane, although her great-grandmother was widowed twice before she was forty. Joseph Smart was baptised in St Etheldreda’s on 31 November 1833, and at some time before he was six, his father died. His mother remarried on 3 August 1839, and William and his two sisters grew up with their mother and stepfather in Hatfield Hyde. Following the birth of three half-siblings, William’s stepfather died and was buried on 11 November 1849. As a result, the family returned to Hatfield, where they made their home in Hart’s Alley, Park Street. I have found no references to Hart’s Alley, so its precise location must remain a mystery. A near neighbour to the Smarts was Sarah Ford. Baptised on 4 April 1838, Sarah’s family lived in Hall’s Yard, Park Street. Long since demolished, if you were to look out from the Horse & Groom, it would have been to your left. Her eldest sister, Ann, was employed as a Brazilian hat maker, 60

which by happy coincidence was also the occupation of William’s mother and his two full sisters. It is hard to believe that there would have been more than one establishment in a town the size of Hatfield manufacturing Brazilian hats, so it is a reasonable assumption that this is how William and Sarah were introduced. The couple were married on 8 April 1860 and moved into a property in Batterdale, where William earned a living as an agricultural labourer. In what is now an all-too-familiar story, they did not have to wait long before they were blessed with the arrival of their firstborn. The birth of James was registered in the second quarter of the year, so it was less than three months after the wedding. Unfortunately, their happiness soon turned to despair, and James died not long after celebrating his first birthday. Infant mortality was sadly an accepted part of life in days gone by. William and Sarah did not wallow in their grief, and a year on from the death of their son, they welcomed a baby girl into their lives. They must have had a change of heart when naming Caroline’s mother. According to the official birth registration, she was named Emily Jane Smart. However, two years later, when she was baptised at St Etheldreda’s on 4 March 1864, she was given the Christian name of Emma, by which she was known in all official records from that day. Following the birth of another daughter, Fanny, the couple’s lives took an unexpected turn when they decided to leave Hatfield behind and move to the metropolis. With William’s occupation listed simply as ‘labourer’, there is no way of knowing why, in 1871, the family home was said to be on Cheney Street, St Pancras. That should probably have read Cheney Road, which, until the rejuvenation of the area, ran parallel with Pancras Road between St Pancras and Kings Cross railway stations. Emma’s stay in London was short-lived and may have been influenced by the death of her mother shortly after the 1871 census had been collated, by which time Emma had a further three sisters. Conversely, her father stayed behind and spent the rest of his life in the St Pancras area. He had remarried by 1873, and his second wife was something of a mystery. Fourteen years junior to Joseph, Hannah Cornelius was born in Woolwich in 1847. She appears on the 1851 census, but after that, nothing is heard of her until the birth of Thomas Smart in 1873. Joseph and Hannah had another six children between then and 1886, and by 1891, he was listed as a widower. As with their marriage, there is no official record of Hannah’s death. Joseph spent the years following the death of Sarah in a continuous cycle 61

of moving house and changing jobs. In 1881, he lived at 18 Mary Place and worked as a ‘carman’, which means he was a driver of a horse-drawn delivery vehicle transporting goods. Mary’s Place cannot be found on any maps, but with the remainder of his addresses being in the Somers Town area, lying between Euston and St Pancras stations, an educated guess would place it near St Mary’s Church on Eversholt Street. Ten years later, he was recorded at 7 Church Way – a very narrow side street, now largely rebuilt –when he was working as a ‘scavenger.’ Also known as a ‘scaffie,’ this meant he was employed as a dustman or street cleaner. Finally, when he was described as ‘caller up’, he lived at 1 Ossulston Place. This would have been at the junction with Euston Road, opposite the British Library. ‘Caller-up’ was another term for a ‘knocker-up,’ a person who went from house to house waking factory workers for their shifts. Joseph died in 1904. By 1881, Emma was almost back in Hatfield. She worked as a servant at Harpsfield Hall Farm, which was owned by a Scottish farmer named James Sinclair. Sinclair took over the farm in 1863 and changed its farming practices, keeping very few animals and growing crops instead, with potatoes being a speciality. It is said that he paid his employees wages that were higher than the average. The farm was sold to Geoffrey de Havilland in 1930, with the land intended for an airfield and flying school. Sadly, the Hall, being in the middle of the site, was obliterated. Although today this area is encompassed by Hatfield, at the time it fell within the parish of St Peter, St Albans. While Emma worked at Harpsfield Hall, William began his career as a bricklayer. Those paying attention will recall that this was the profession of his stepmother’s first husband. Whether she influenced this career path is purely a topic for speculation. It didn’t last long, and by 1892, he had followed his father into the employ of the Great Northern Railway, working as a porter. It seems that around the same time, the family left Welham Green and moved to St Albans Road, Hatfield, where ‘railway’ cottages had been built. St Albans Roads East and West were once part of a continuous road that ran through the centre of the current town before it was pedestrianised. If you can imagine the road continuing through the ASDA store, the railway cottages stood on its northern side. Emma had also relocated to Hatfield by 1892. We will never know how she met William; however, the couple tied the knot at St Etheldreda’s on Christmas Eve 1882. Given the family's history, it would have been a shock had Emma not been pregnant on her wedding day, and the couple welcomed Edward Charles within six months of married life. The fourth of 62

eight children was Caroline, who was born on Sunday, 21 November 1886. Her baptism didn’t take place until 22 May 1889, at the same time as her elder siblings, Walter Herbert and Ada Alice. Although St Luke’s Church had been built in 1887, it had originally only been consecrated to conduct funerals, so maybe William and Emma didn’t fancy the walk up to St Etheldreda’s and had been saving them up for a job lot. Perhaps something had happened that had suddenly made them more god-fearing. Before the baptism date, William had already changed jobs. He was still with GNR but was now a railway carriage cleaner. Before returning to Caroline, a quick word or two on a couple of her younger brothers in the context of the Hatfield Cricket Club. Largely flying under the radar, Vincent William Berry (1891-1953) and Albert Lewis Berry (1898-1976) played for the club’s 2nd and Thursday XIs. Of more consequence were two of Albert’s sons, Vincent Arthur (1924-1969) and John (b. 1938), who had lengthy playing careers after the Second World War. In 1901, when she was fourteen, Caroline worked as a nursemaid for William, a coachman, and Annie Swain’s two young children at their home in Epping Green, a hamlet that lies halfway between Little Berkhampstead and Newgate Street. Blink, and you will miss it. Fast forward ten years, and she was employed as a cook for Albert and Emma Hill, who lived at Elmhurst, Hatfield Road, St Albans. A property not named on any maps, it was presumably in an area called The Elms, located at the junction of Hatfield Road and Lattimore Road. This was not a million miles from where Shoppy was working, so it’s possible that the couple first met in St Albans. I say possibly because she was residing in Hatfield at the time of their marriage. This appears to be the right moment to finish the story of Shoppy’s inlaws. Not that there is much to recount. Between 1911 and 1921, William advanced from carriage cleaner to goods porter, during which time the couple lived at 1 Mission Cottage, a GNR-owned property on the 2nd right-of-way. For those familiar with the layout of Hatfield town centre, if you walk from White Lion Square towards ASDA, about a third of the way along, 2nd Right-of-way would have directed north-northwest to The Commons. Emma passed away in 1930, and William in 1932. That lengthy diversion takes us to the marriage of Ernest Elliott and Caroline Jane Berry at St Etheldreda’s Church on 7 August 1915. You will be pleased to learn that family tradition was maintained, and Shoppy’s bride was five months pregnant when she walked down the aisle. The new63

lyweds moved into a property on London Road, and their daughter, Eileen Gladys, was born on 12 December 1915. Usually joyous occasions, the baptism of Eileen on 23 January 1916 took place under the cloud of not knowing if or when Shoppy would receive his call-up to the army as the war dragged on. The August 1916 issue of the Parish Magazine confirmed that the new family would be separated and that Shoppy would be exchanging civilian clothes for a uniform. He joined the 2nd Battalion of the Royal West Kent Regiment, which meant that instead of spending two years in the trenches on the Western Front facing the Germans, his war experience took place in the scorching heat of Mesopotamia (Iraq), opposing the forces of the Ottoman Empire. After the armistice, the Battalion remained in the Middle East to suppress uprisings by Shia and Sunni groups. As a result, Shoppy did not return to Hatfield and his family until early 1920. Farewell to Hatfield Park Upon his return to civilian life, Shoppy wasted no time in immersing himself back into club affairs. At the Annual General Meeting held at the One Bell Inn on Tuesday, 6 April 1920, he was welcomed back onto the committee. This was fortuitous timing for the cricket club. Trouble was brewing. The club could still field a second XI; however, it had lost the use of its second ground at Hatfield Hyde. Ordinarily, this would not pose a problem for a cricket club, but unfortunately, the ground at Hatfield Park was also home to Hatfield Estate CC. Two into one doesn’t go, and following pressure from Hatfield CC, Lord Salisbury agreed to seek an alternative venue for one of the clubs. Surprise, surprise, that club was Hatfield. The club’s new home, effective from the 1923 season, was to be at the Show Field at St Albans Road. This was already the home of Hatfield United FC, whose committee included Shoppy among its members. With a foot in both camps, he would be a vital cog in the wheel of the ground share negotiations. And so, after over a hundred years in situ, Hatfield CC had three seasons remaining on the North Lawn of Hatfield House, and Shoppy signed off in style. After five years’ absence from cricket, and given that he was now thirtyfour, it took a while for him to return to the dominating performances of old. His first season back, 1920, when he was joined in the team by his younger brother Frank, was more about quantity than quality. With the Saturday XI playing 22 matches and the Thursday XI 10, making up for 64

lost time, perhaps, he made 26 visits to the middle, which was more innings than anyone else. Not without good reason, ground maintenance was not a priority during the war, and the quality of pitches understandably suffered as a consequence. Run-scoring became a premium. In the first three seasons played after the First World War, only three half-centuries were recorded by Hatfield’s batters, so Shoppy’s failure to register one wasn’t a reflection on his batting. Despite this, he ended his first season after the war as the club’s leading run-scorer with 402 runs, although 15.46 was only good enough to place him fourth in the averages behind George Hemmings’ 18.47. He was the club’s third-highest wicket-taker with 58 wickets, once again finding his nemesis in George Hemmings. A respectable average of 7.10 was only sufficient for third place in the bowling, Ted Palmer piping both Hemmings and Shoppy to the prize. At the club’s revived end-of-season dinner at the One Bell Hotel on 16 September 1920, an event last seen in the days before the ill-fated merger with Hatfield Hyde, Shoppy revealed another string to his bow. You had to make your own entertainment in those days, and after the meal, songs were sung to the accompaniment of a pianist. Among those displaying their vocal talents was Shoppy, who made the first of what would become an annual performance. A new chapter in Shoppy’s cricketing career began in 1921 when, on Tuesday, 28 March, during the general meeting at the One Bell Hotel, his peers elected him as the club’s 1st XI captain. With Eddie Hickson serving as his vice-captain, the team experienced a mixed bag of results in his debut season in charge. The overall record indicated that 27 matches had been played, of which 14 were won, 11 lost, one drawn, and one abandoned, which was not on par with the previous year. Without a report on the 1922 season for reference, the record from the 18 games reported in the press showed 6 wins, 10 losses, and two draws. Perhaps this disappointing outcome was the reason for Shoppy standing down after two seasons in the role. Reporting on the 1921 season was sporadic, making it impossible to evaluate Shoppy’s performance; however, although the team’s results were not as good as he would have liked, 1922 proved to be a rewarding affair from a personal perspective. Fifteen years after his father had done so, Shoppy won the club’s batting prize. In achieving this, he batted 17 times, was not out 3 times, and scored 317 runs at an average of 24.73. While this may not sound impressive by modern standards, it is worth noting that of the 26 matches for which scores survive, Hatfield only exceeded three fig65

ures seven times. Fortunately, his batting record during this season of triumph is the most complete, with fifteen of his seventeen innings reported in the papers. Highlights of his season included innings of 59 not out (Essendon), 54 (Welwyn Garden City), 41 (Singles), and 40 (Brunswick Institute). He also found time to produce his best bowling performance (as far as we know) since returning from Mesopotamia. Playing at Welwyn on 3 June, he opened the bowling and remained unchanged throughout the innings, taking seven wickets for 44 runs. Alas, it was all in vain, as Hatfield lost by five runs, though Shoppy could hold his head high, being Hatfield’s joint top-scorer of the day with 20 runs. In total, he claimed at least 39 victims with the ball, which, although superior to the 31 wickets taken by the bowling prize winner, Charles Simpson, fell significantly short of Ted Palmer’s tally of at least 61. Hatfield United Part 3 The move to the Show Field was more than just a ground share with the football club. Alongside a tennis section, the clubs agreed to collaborate and establish the Hatfield United Athletic Club, which eventually incorporated an athletics and a hockey section. Although it lasted considerably longer, the Athletic Club experienced the same eventual fate as Hatfield United CC, with the union dismantled by a world war. In another challenging year for Hatfield’s batters, Shoppy was once again at the top of the pile and secured the club’s batting prize for the second consecutive season. From 16 completed innings, he amassed 293 runs at an average of 18.31, which, according to available records, positioned him as the season’s highest run-scorer. It was not solely his efforts with the bat that brought him recognition. There is evidence that, in the early twentieth century, the club awarded a prize to the best fielder; however, in 1923, for the first time, it was decided that, in addition to the batting and bowling prizes, the player who held the most catches in a season should also be acknowledged. Shoppy was the inaugural winner with fourteen catches, one ahead of Billy Stevens. He was unable to complete a hattrick of prizes, as despite taking 51 wickets at an average of 7.00, he could only manage sixth position in the bowling table. Despite his advancing years, Shoppy was still capable of producing the occasional grandstanding performance. Although ultimately on the losing side, he delivered the best all-round individual display of the season when the side travelled to New Barnet on 19 May 1923. I have no idea who New Barnet PSA may have been, although they had been around since the nine66

teenth century, making them an established cricket club. In the days before car ownership became commonplace, this was a typical Hatfield CC fixture, with the ground a short walk from a railway station easily accessible from Hatfield. From the description of another match, the venue in question was likely situated on the site of the present-day Victoria Recreation Ground. Shoppy took five wickets for 37 runs in the PSA’s innings of 133 and then hit 71 before Hatfield’s reply faltered to a disappointing 121 all out. There were two reasons for this 12-run defeat. First, and most obviously, was PSA’s last man scoring 13 runs. However, Hatfield didn’t exactly help themselves, as the highest scorer of their final seven batters only managed 2! He may have been approaching forty, but he remained invaluable to Hatfield CC as an all-rounder. Although the 1924 season was unspectacular by the high standards he had set for himself, he still achieved fifth place in the batting averages, fourth in the bowling, and recorded the second-highest number of catches. This somewhat downplays his bowling performance. He may have managed to take five wickets only twice, but he claimed four on several occasions, and his final tally of 61 wickets, at an average of 6.59, was comfortably the season’s best. Swings and roundabouts, I suppose. His best return with the ball since the First World War was countered by his lowest run total since returning to the club in 1912. A total of 264 runs from 20 innings was well below par for the great man. New Barnet, on 17 May, was a happy hunting ground for the second consecutive year, and the newspaper report supports H J Gray’s description of his batting style. Described as a ‘hurricane batsman’, thirty of forty runs came from boundaries. This time, he wasn’t on the losing team. His runs were complemented by five wickets for 18 runs, leading to a comprehensive victory by 128 runs against Barnet PSA. There was also an off-field distraction for Shoppy to deal with. For the entirety of the season, Caroline was expecting the couple’s second child. A month after the last sound of leather on willow had been heard for the summer, Geoffrey Jack Elliott was born on 16 October 1924. Buoyed by the arrival of his son, the final two seasons at the Show Field were among the most successful of his time with Hatfield CC. He certainly began the 1925 season in fine style. On 2 May, at Wolves Lane, Wood Green, Shoppy single-handedly put Old Johnians to the sword. Who the old boys represented is a mystery, as there are no schools in the area with a name that would justify such a moniker. On what was described as a good batting wicket, the old boys won the toss and soon had cause to regret their decision to bat first. Opening the bowling, he ripped through the batting 67

line-up, taking seven wickets for a miserly 11 runs. Chasing 34 runs to win the match, a Hatfield victory was never in doubt, and with the game already won, Shoppy played a typical cameo at number 10 to smash a quick 31 not out. When the season had run its course, Shoppy had taken 78 wickets, which, as far as records allow, makes this the most successful wicket-taking year of his career. The only disappointment would be that they were taken at an average of 9.15, which, although by today’s standards is exceptional, was only moderate for the time (Leslie Ward won the bowling prize with 6.62). It was also his best season with the bat for a while, with a reported total of 375 runs scored at an average of 17.05. His average may have been higher still, depending on the criteria laid down by the club’s statistician. When rain curtailed Hatfield’s match against Barnet before the completion of the first innings of the game, Shoppy had been dismissed for 44 runs, his highest score of the season. This should have been included in the overall statistics; however, they had some funny ideas back then. Even if this were so, he would still have been eight runs short of depriving Eddie Hickson of the batting prize. Shoppy’s contribution with both bat and ball was singled out for praise in the Hatfield United Athletic Club’s 1926 handbook. It was reported that across the 1924 and 1925 seasons, he was both the club’s leading run-scorer and wicket-taker. This consisted of 639 runs at an average of 15.21, and 139 wickets for 1,116 runs to average 8.03. Maturing like a fine wine, forty-year-old Shoppy produced the most successful season of his career in 1926. Before shouting from the rooftops, there was a very good reason why he was able to accumulate the number of runs and wickets that he did. For this was the first season of Sunday cricket, and Shoppy embraced the opportunity to play as often as he could. A full set of statistics would make for interesting reading. We know his total runs scored for the season (which we will come to in a moment), and fewer than half of these were reported in the local press. To suggest that, on this basis, his reported number of wickets taken may have been underreported by a similar ratio would be opportunistic. On the other hand, it is not unreasonable to suggest he would have added to his 74 known victims to sufficiently overhaul his previous best of 78 achieved the previous year. Time for idle speculation. I do not think that it is unrealistic to suggest that he went on to become the first bowler in the club’s history to take 100 wickets in a season. It would have been a harder ask, although not impossible, that he could have equalled or bettered Walter Whitby’s 1934 total of 126. 68

A factor that casts doubt on these claims is that you would have thought that a century of wickets would have been worthy of a mention in the 1927 handbook; however, the impending move from the Show Field to the Stonecross Oval was at the forefront of the club’s mind. As you might expect in a tally of 74 wickets, Shoppy had his fair share of five-wicket hauls. For the second successive year, the pick of the bunch came at Wolves Lane, Wood Green. As he had done the previous year, he came away with seven wickets to his name, this time for 20 runs. Hatfield made heavy weather of chasing Old Johnian’s total of 45, and with Shoppy’s 13 the only double-figure score among Hatfield’s XI, the match was left tied. Despite the scarcity of records, those that do survive make it almost inconceivable that Shoppy’s aggregate of 794 runs for the season was not a club record, given the substantial gap to the next highest known total. And it wasn’t just down to an increased number of innings. With over half of his runs unaccounted for, it is still known that he hit four scores of sixty-plus, including the second and third highest innings of his career. Pride of place was a knock of 97 against Welwyn on 7 August. Such was his dominance that, coming in at number five, he comfortably outscored the rest of the side, who managed 68 between them. Although his score against Barnet three weeks later was two runs fewer (95), it provoked hyperbole in the Welwyn Garden City & Hertfordshire Pilot. Under the headline of ‘Mr E Elliott’s Prowess’, it reported that ‘All Mr Elliott’s numerous friends will congratulate him upon scoring 32 runs in one over and 95 runs in his innings against Barnet on Saturday. This is a feat which should increase both the fame of Hatfield Cricket Club and of Mr Elliott. When he scores a century, we shall have to seriously consider a special issue.’ The actual match report expanded on this theme: ‘Mr E Elliott set up a new batting record for the Hatfield United Club on Saturday last in their match versus Barnet CC, by scoring 32 runs in one over. His hits were 6, 4, 6, 6, 4, 6. His total score had reached 95 (which included seven sixes and nine fours) when he was caught on the boundary.’ While it is unlikely that anyone would have known this was a record at the time, there is a 99.99 per cent chance that it was – and still is. He almost certainly set new club records for the number of runs and wickets by a Hatfield player in a season; quantity counts for nothing in the averages, and Shoppy failed to secure either of the club’s main prizes. To have done so would have required superhuman efforts. It mustn’t be forgotten how difficult it was to score runs on pitches that would be considered 69

substandard today. In most seasons, his average of 22.69 would have been worth more than the second place it earned him in 1926. To put it in perspective, despite setting a new record, Shoppy would have needed to find an extra 435 runs to have beaten William Groom to the batting prize. Similarly, to have bowled the number of overs that he did and come away with an average of below five runs per wicket was never going to happen. Making himself available twice a weekend did reap its reward, though, and he collected this second catching prize in four years, with his 22 held, leaving him eight clear of the chasing pack. Swansong With Shoppy in prolific form with both bat and ball, from a statistician’s point of view, it is a tragedy that from now until the end of his playing career, information on his achievements is at a premium. During the seasons from 1927 to 1933, the local press rarely reported on Hatfield CC’s exploits, likely due to a combination of changes in the club’s administration and a general malaise within the club. During this time, he added another batting and bowling prize to his collection, so there is no dispute as to whether or not he was still performing to a high standard. There are no further records of Shoppy scoring a fifty for the club, which is inconceivable after the season he had in 1926. The handful of match reports throw up an additional eleven instances of him taking five or more wickets in an innings, so there can be no debate that dozens of wickets have been lost. So what do we know? At first glance, with ‘only’ 46 wickets taken in 1927, at an average of 9.78 from 171 overs, it might seem to indicate that he was slowing down after the relentless cricket of the previous year. There were, however, mitigating circumstances. He certainly began the season well, taking seven wickets on the opening day against Potters Bar, which inspired a two-run victory. The club’s new ground at the Stonecross Road Oval would not be ready until the 1928 season, forcing them into a oneseason groundshare with Hatfield Estate CC in Hatfield Park; consequently, the club could not play any Sunday fixtures (admittedly, they could have played away matches, but they preferred home comforts. In 1931, all 19 scheduled fixtures were at home). This was sufficient for him to finish in third place, albeit a considerable distance behind Albert Lawrence’s 4.56. Any doubts about Shoppy’s days as a frontline batsman being over were dispelled by his winning the batting prize in 1929 for the third and final time. Unfortunately, this is the last year for which his total runs scored were recorded. During the season, he batted 21 times, was not out twice, and 70

amassed 393 runs at an average of 20.68. Sadly, his highest score was not reported, so there is no way of knowing if he added to his impressive tally of half-centuries. The next piece of information indicating that he was still performing at an acceptable level came via a report on the club’s 1931 annual dinner, when it was announced that he had finished third in batting averages. The only detail made public was that his average was 14.60, which, frustratingly, is too round a number to hazard a guess as to his total aggregate of runs. Never just a one-trick pony, Shoppy was still delivering with the ball as well. From the smattering of knowledge surviving from the first two seasons of the 1930s, there is evidence of him taking five or more wickets on five occasions. The reality was likely higher. The only season between 1927 and the end of his career for which his bowling record is known is 1934. At the risk of sounding like a broken record, it would be intriguing to know how he had performed in the intervening years. This is because, at forty-eight, he not only won his first and only bowling prize, but he did so with the lowest average of his recorded career. 88 overs, 9 of which were maidens, produced 38 wickets at an average of 5.76. Maybe it was a sign that he was slowing down, or maybe he didn’t fancy the train ride to Dunstable, but his best bowling performance of the season came in a 2nd XI fixture against Waterlows. With only eight trains running on a Saturday, it may have been a long day out for the 1st XI. Although on the plus side, assuming the ground was close to Waterlow Road, it was only a short walk from the station. On the off chance that anyone is interested, Waterlow and Sons Limited was a major worldwide engraver of currency, postage stamps, stocks and bond certificates. It was acquired in 1961 by De La Rue, which currently prints the UK’s banknotes. Shoppy’s class shone through, and with figures of seven wickets for 10 runs, the money manufacturers were bowled out for 38 to give Hatfield victory by 47 runs. The 6th of June 1936 was the last hurrah of Shoppy’s playing career. Described by the Herts Advertiser as ‘Hatfield’s evergreen veteran’, which was fair enough as he was by now fifty years old, he single-handedly earned his side an undeserved draw against Old Elysians. Not immediately obvious from the name, but this was the old boys’ club of the William Ellis School in Gospel Oak, Camden. With the old boys moving comfortably to 82 for three, Shoppy entered the fray, and with five wickets for 18 runs, he helped reduce them to 114 all out. Following a break for rain, Hatfield’s reply had begun well before a collapse left them staring down the barrel. Shoppy stopped the rot, and with 31 not out, he safely played out time. 71

And that was that. As far as can be seen, Shoppy called time on his playing days after the close of the 1936 season. It was quite a career. Even though the complete picture is unknown, it is beyond doubt that in the years before the Second World War, he was both Hatfield Cricket Club’s leading run-scorer and wicket-taker. His record can only be gleaned from old newspaper reports, and so it has sadly been deprived of thousands of runs and hundreds of wickets. It should also be noted that the First World War deprived him of five seasons of cricket, and that most of his career took place before the introduction of Sunday cricket, further limiting his opportunities. The bare minimum of his achievements reads as 4,908 runs scored and 689 wickets taken. There can be no disputing that he would have exceeded 5,000 runs. It is not unreasonable to suggest that the true figure would have been more than 7,000, which would place him in the top twenty of the club’s all-time leading run-scorers. This is despite the dreadful quality of pitches he would have had to contend with. His baseline figure of 689 wickets alone places him as the club’s thirteenth most prolific. In all probability, he would be a member of the elite club of Hatfield bowlers who have taken over 1,000 wickets, which would place him in the top five. He is also one of only ten players to have achieved the club's 5,000 runs and 500 wickets double. After Cricket At some point, Shoppy left his position at Marlboro Motors and set himself up as a painter and decorator. By the time the 1939 Register was compiled, the family had left the old town and was living at 2 Mission Cottage, St Albans Road, Hatfield, with Shoppy doing his bit for the war effort through his involvement in air raid precautions. His mother and younger brothers, Frank and Ronald, both of whom played cricket for Hatfield, could be found at 13 Salisbury Square. Neither of these properties survives today. Frank died on 16 July 1940, shortly after Shoppy’s daughter married Leonard Starkey of Mill Green. Tragedy struck in 1947. Before receiving his call-up papers in 1943, Geoffrey Elliott had provided ample ammunition on the cricket field to suggest that he was going to be a chip off the old block. He survived the war intact but was then posted to India, during its transition to independence, where he fell ill and died on 11 January 1947, aged 22. His final resting place was the Ranchi War Cemetery in Jharkhand, India, with the epitaph ‘Beautiful memories of a smiling face, a broken link we can never replace.’ Shoppy breathed his last on 25 June 1970 in Hatfield, the town of his 72

birth, and where, his wartime in Mesopotamia excepted, he lived for his entire life. His final resting place is in St Luke’s cemetery, Hatfield, near to that of his father. The epitaph on his gravestone suggests that the grave also belonged to his son, Geoffrey. But, as can be seen above, this was not the case. Should anyone wish to pay their respects to a Hatfield legend, as you enter the graveyard, he is to be found in the first section on the lefthand side, just before the path turns to the right. All that is left now is the sad, inevitable, round-up of events. Shoppy’s mother, Helen Mary Elliot, died in Hatfield on 15 April 1952, aged 88, and was laid to rest alongside her late husband, George. It is a crowded plot, as it is also said to include their children, Frank, Ronald, who died four months after Shoppy on 19 October 1970, and Emily, none of whom married. Caroline remained in Hatfield after her husband’s demise, and she too passed in 1985. Emily Starkey died in January 2001. Although Emily produced a son and a daughter, the male line of George Elliot’s family had come to an end. Shoppy’s elder brother, George Henry Elliott, produced a son, Maxwell Dean Elliott, in 1914, but he did not marry and died in 1988. 73

74Hatfield United FC - Bingham-Cox Cup winners 1907-08. Shoppy is front row, second from the right.Hatfield United FC 1906-07. Mid-Herts League & Mid-Herts Cup runners-up. Shoppy is in the middle row, second from the right.

75Hatfield United FC - Bingham-Cox Cup winners 1908-09. Shoppy is in his obligatory position of front row, second from the right.Hatfield Hyde CC 1909. Shoppy is sitting on the ground on the right.

76Hatfield United FC - Herts Junior Cup winners 1910-11. Shoppy is front row, second from the right.A working party at the Show Field in 1920, preparing for the Football Club to move into the ground. Shoppy is second from the left.

77Official Opening of the Show Field Cricket Ground, 21 May 1923. Shoppy is in the front row third from the the right.Hatfield United FC ‘A’ team 1920-21. Shoppy is in the front row, second from the left. First left is his brother-in-law Albert Lewis Berry.

78Married XI 1928: Shoppy is in the front row first on the right.Married XI 1934: Shoppy is in the front row third from the the right.

79St Luke’s, Hatfield. The final resting place of George Elliott, Helen (Berry) Elliott, Frank Elliott, Ronald Elliott, and Emily Elliott.Shoppy’s tombstone at St Luke’s. Despite the inscription, Geoffrey’s remains were interred in India.

Legend No. 3. 1951-2000 – Tony FosterAnthony George Foster drew his first breath on Tuesday, 31 January 1939. At the time of his birth, his parents, Arnold George and Mary Jane (née Eatwell), lived at 21 Holme Road in what is colloquially known as Hatfield Garden Village. The housing estate of the Garden Village, along with those of Birchwood and Ellenbrook, was built in the 1930s to provide accommodation for workers at the fledgling de Havilland aircraft factory, where Tony would later spend most of his working life. It is ironic, therefore, that in the 1990s, Hatfield Garden Village was populated by residents who were indignant that a plane factory was close to their homes. Trying to point out to such people that the factory was there before they were was pointless. But what of Tony’s roots? West Country Roots In my distant youth, I remember Tony often expressing his admiration for Swindon Town FC. He later denied closely following their progress on the pitch, insisting that he only developed a soft spot for them after they stunned Arsenal in the 1968 League Cup Final at Wembley, where they won 3–1 after extra time. Swindon was then, as now, playing in the third tier of English football. Tony reasoned that, as a Chelsea supporter, he hated the Gunners and thus found their defeat quite amusing. It turns out that Tony was being somewhat economical with the truth, and that the Wiltshire town of Swindon held more significance for him than he admitted. Before reaching the West Country, Tony’s story begins in Northumberland with his paternal grandfather, Thomas Foster, who was born in Newcastle-upon-Tyne in 1868. Genealogists crave distinctive names. Thomas Foster, sadly, does not fit this pattern, so little is known of his life before he married Bertha Maria Smith in Wroughton, a small village on the outskirts of Swindon. Swindon, once a small market town, was transformed into the county’s most populous town following the arrival of the Great Western Railway in 1843, which established one of the world’s largest railway engineering hubs there. Therefore, it is no surprise to learn that Thomas found employment with GWR as a boiler maker’s assistant. The final census before Thomas died in 1933, taken in 1921, shows that Thomas was still employed by GWR, as was his first-born child, James William, who was also a boiler maker. Bertha Smith, Tony’s paternal grandmother, was a native of 80

Wroughton. Born in 1873 as the youngest daughter of William and Maria Smith, the family abode was in Prior’s Hill, on the southern edge of Wroughton. By the time of the 1891 census, Bertha was employed as a domestic servant in the service of a Mr Boniface, who by a strange coincidence hailed from Tewin in Hertfordshire. For young women from the labouring classes, domestic service was a common occupation. Mr Boniface’s address was given as Victoria Street North, Highworth, which is a village approximately six miles north of Swindon. Somewhat confusingly, however, neither on modern nor contemporary maps is such an address shown. Thomas and Bertha were married in 1897 and moved into number 33 of the familiar Prior’s Hill. They had a large family with five sons and three daughters; the middle son, Arnold, would go on to father Tony. Thomas died in 1933 at the age of 65. Bertha was still alive in Wroughton in 1939, but she disappeared after that. There is one possible sighting, though only a slight one, which will be discussed later in connection with Arnold’s wedding. For a long time, the search for Tony’s maternal grandmother appeared to have thrown up a quite frankly unbelievable fact. If the 1911 census was to be believed, she had married a man 58 years her senior! My gut instinct was that a 7 had been misread as a 2, but finding evidence that the gap was a more manageable eight years required some luck. The bit of luck was discovering details of their marriage, which had been transcribed incorrectly with a date of 1692! You might want to have a map handy while we discuss this branch of the family. Emily Jane Marchant was born in Hannington, a village north of Swindon, on 27 December 1885. Not that this was her home for long. Emily’s father was a carter, meaning he owned a horse and cart and transported farm produce. Why this would have required the family to be on the move constantly remains a mystery, but from the birthplaces of William and Emma’s children, it’s clear that their lives were full of upheaval. Before arriving in Wiltshire, they had their firstborn in Shilton, Oxford, in 1880. Their locations then included: 1881, Ogbourne St George; 1883, back to Shilton; 1885 and 1888, Hannington; 1890, Bishopstone; 1892, Ogbourne St George; 1894, Bishopstone; and finally, 1899, Ufcott. By the time of the 1901 census, they were back in Ogbourne St George (by 1911, they had moved to Berkshire). Although the family was based in Ogbourne, which is south of Swindon, Emily was found a couple of miles to the east in Aldbourne. Emily had followed the common route into domestic service, working for a widowed Mrs Cox. Her next move was slightly further south to 81

Ramsbury, where she was married in 1904. Tony’s maternal grandfather, John Eatwell, was born in Aldbourne, just north of Ramsbury, in 1877 and baptised in the same village on 4 February the same year. Unlike the Marchants, the Eatwells were a one-town family, and John remained there until he married Emily. Like his father-in-law, John was a carter. However, the newlyweds’ married life wasn’t quite as nomadic as the Marchants’. At least, I don’t think it did. The registrar’s handwriting has necessitated some guesswork. The best I can do for the eldest child is that he was born near Ramsbury in 1905. The following year, they had a son in Baydon, near Aldbourne. There followed a period of stability with the next two, born in 1908 and 1911, coming into the world in Axford, a small village south of Swindon. I have not yet been able to determine the precise birthplace of their fourth child, Mary Jane, born on 27 September 1912. The registration district covers Aldbourne, Axford, Baydon, and Ramsbury, so any of these locations is a possibility. The important point to note is that Mary would later give birth to Tony Foster. Before she died in 1971, Emily had endured more than her fair share of heartache. John died in 1918, but Emily did not stay a widow for long, marrying George Thomas Sear (b. 1876) the following year. The couple didn’t have any children together, but they set up home in Elcombe, the next village along from Wroughton, which was a significant move in the scheme of things. Sometime before the National Register was compiled on 20 September 1939, to facilitate the issuing of Identity Cards following the outbreak of war, they moved into 31 Prior’s Hill, Wroughton. Numbers 31 and 33 Prior’s Hill formed a pair of semi-detached houses, with No. 33, of course, being the address of Arnold Foster. This appears to be how Arnold and Mary met. Emily was widowed again in 1943 with the death of George, and married again in 1946. Husband number three was Thomas Cook (b. 1883), sadly, a farm labourer and not the famous travel agent of the same name. In 1971, Emily was widowed for the third and final time. Now 85 years of age, it is perhaps not surprising that she opted not to find husband number four. From Trains to Planes Born on 15 August 1912, Arnold George Foster joined the majority of working men in the Swindon area by finding gainful employment with the GWR. His precise role with the company is unknown, but he has been described as an engineer. It is disappointing that the 1931 census was a victim of the Blitz in World War II for many reasons, but in this instance, it leaves 82

a gap in Arnold’s journey from the West Country to Hatfield. Before arriving in Hertfordshire, Arnold married Mary Jane Eatwell. The marriage ceremony took place within the District of Islington. Neither of them had a known family connection to North London, so it is a mystery as to why the couple chose to tie the knot there. It is ridiculous to speculate, but perhaps Arnold had switched allegiance from GWR to LNER. The new Mrs Foster was born on 27 September 1912. It’s a long shot, but there is one possible explanation for why Islington was chosen as the wedding venue. Previously, it was suggested that Arnold’s mother’s whereabouts after 1939 were a mystery. Searching for a Bertha Maria Foster with the correct birth year yields only a few results. There was, however, one such individual recorded as dying in the Registration District of Islington in 1971. On the downside, I have been unable to establish any link between the immediate family and North London. The only other loose end is that of her daughter, Ethel Nora Foster, the last official record of whom dates to the 1921 census. Alas, Foster is too common a name to cross-reference all the Ethels who married in the 1920s and '30s. Geoffrey de Havilland began flying planes from his aerodrome in Hatfield in 1930. In 1934, significant works were undertaken at the site, including the construction of a large factory and administration buildings. De Havilland sold his existing airfield at Stag Lane, Edgware, and relocated his aeroplane manufacturing to Hertfordshire. The de Havilland factory had a profound effect on the development of the town. The company initially employed 1,200 workers, eventually expanding its workforce to 7,500 at its peak. In 1960, it was taken over by Hawker Siddeley and, in 1963, adopted its parent company’s name. As a result of the Aircraft and Shipbuilding Industries Act 1977, the company’s aircraft manufacturing division was nationalised and became part of the newly created British Aerospace. It did not stay in public hands for long. In February 1981, 56.1% of the company was sold in a public sale, with the remainder of its stock sold in May 1985. The British Government retained a £1 ‘golden share’ which entitled it to veto overseas control of the company. Privatisation wasn’t good news for Hatfield, and in 1992, British Aerospace announced the site's closure. One of the men (and yes, in those days, it was all men) who answered de Havilland’s call was Arnold Foster. It is impossible to do more than speculate about the route that led Arnold and Mary from childhood in Swindon to 21 Holme Road, via Islington, and Arnold’s career as an aircraft fitter at de Havilland’s factory. When de Havilland switched production from Edgware to Hatfield, the town could not accommodate an influx of 1,200 new 83

workers. Therefore, it stands to reason that before the new housing estates mentioned at the beginning of this section were erected, most of the workforce would have been commuters. Therefore, the possibility cannot be ruled out that Arnold was living near Islington and catching the train to Hatfield every workday morning. Tony inherited his love of cricket from his father. Arnold played for de Havilland CC, his work’s team, where, according to H J Gray, he bowled his slow deliveries to some effect in the post-war seasons. Little else is known of Arnold and Mary. In 1943, Tony was joined by a younger sister, Pamela Anne, who, I believe, moved to Kent after she married, and that is where she died in 2013. The only other snippet of information is that at some point, the Fosters decamped from their home at Holme Road and moved into 22 Selwyn Crescent, Ellenbrook, Hatfield, the address at which Tony was living when he first entered into the realm of Hatfield Estate & Town CC. The Teenage Prodigy Fortunately for Hatfield Cricket Club, Tony didn’t immediately follow his father’s footsteps and work for de Havilland upon leaving school. Had he done so, in all likelihood, he would have shared his cricketing talents with the work’s team. It wasn’t long before he eventually joined the company, where he continued to work until the site ceased production in 1993, when he opted for early retirement. Tony’s role with the company was always akin to a mystery. If you asked a fellow employee, the stock response was a shrug of the shoulders, followed by the response of ‘I dunno, I just see him wandering around the factory holding a clipboard,’ with the added suspicion that the vital documents he was carrying around with him were pages of that day’s Racing Post. There was no denying that Tony enjoyed the ‘occasional’ flutter. The day I spent with him at Huntingdon races was an eye-opener. But I digress. Whenever anyone mentioned this description of his working life in Tony’s presence, it caused him considerable consternation and annoyance – though he never bothered to set the record straight. As far as one can tell, his job had something to do with accounts. I learned of Tony’s first experience in the working world by chance. In one of the final conversations I had with him, I asked him about a couple of players from the 1950s when he volunteered that one of them had given him his first job. Those with a bit of imagination and knowledge of the layout of Old Hatfield can conceive the olden days when both sides of Park Street were 84

lined with commercial premises. In 1850, immediately opposite the Horse & Groom, at 21 Park Street, a public house by the name of The Jacobs Well opened for business. In its earlier days, the Jacobs Well had a reputation as a place of ill repute, and last orders were called on the establishment in 1905. The premises became home to a printing press owned initially by Ralph Humphry (b.1874), who was later succeeded by William Aldridge Guest (1856-1936), proprietor of W A Guest (Printers) Ltd. When Guest retired in the mid-1930s, the business was taken over by his former apprentice and right-hand man, H W ‘Bert’ Shepherd (1910-1990). In 1965, the building was demolished to make way for Park Close, and Shepherd moved to Beaconsfield Road, trading under the new name of Hatfield Press. It was at 21 Park Street that Tony began his working life. The minutes of the General Committee’s meeting of Monday, 30 April 1956, show that it was on this date that Tony was elected as a playing member of Hatfield Cricket Club. I will always regret that my interest in the Club’s past was not ignited sooner. Sitting down with Tony to discuss his time with the Club would have yielded a wealth of information. But it didn’t happen, so this is educated guesswork. Still, it is difficult to argue against the notion that his association with Bert Shepherd had been the catalyst for his introduction. As well as being his boss, Bert was also involved in the management of the club’s Colts section. It is fair to say that Tony announced himself in style. He was a member of a particularly strong junior setup that also included Tony Paulson and David Pickhaver, who, alongside Tony, made a rapid progression into the adult elevens. Unsurprisingly, no details of the matches played by Hatfield Estate CC’s Colts in 1956 have survived. However, it was reported at the Club’s General Meeting that they won all four of their matches. Organised youth cricket in the area was in its infancy, with Hatfield, Potters Bar, and North Mymms having set up a competition only the previous year, in which the teams played each other on a home-and-away basis. Tony must have impressed, as he made his debut in adult cricket four days after the final Colts’ fixture. Two days before the conclusion of the Colts’ season, on Monday, 2 July, the Club’s General Committee decided to nominate Tony, along with Tony Paulson, David Pickhaver, and Roger Langworth, for consideration for selection for a county Colts trial match to be played on the ground of St Albans School on Monday, 30 July. In an act of modesty, Paulson declined the invitation to attend because his former games master was one of the selectors. On this occasion, none of the Hatfield lads were successful at the trial. 85

Tony offered his recollection of the occasion of his first match in the July 1990 edition of the Club’s Newsletter. Unfortunately, his memory of events was less than perfect: ‘I don’t remember whether or not I bowled, or the result,’ however, he did provide an interesting insight into the Club’s policy regarding new players. Rather than ease them in gently with a run out in the 2nd XI, recruits would be selected for the Sunday 1st XI to show what they were worth. Tony’s opportunity to impress his elders arrived on Sunday, 8 July 1856, when Hatfield entertained Northampton Polytechnic at Hatfield Park. On paper, Hatfield had fielded a strong XI, so it would have been a surprise that young Tony found himself striding out to bat with the scoreboard reading 59 for five wickets. Fortunately for Tony, his partner was the experienced hand of Bryan French, and the pair steadied the ship by adding thirty runs for the sixth wicket. But then, two quick wickets fell to leave Hatfield in dire straits at 111 for eight. At this point, the pendulum swung dramatically in Hatfield’s favour. It was perhaps fortuitous that Michael Russell was hiding at number ten in the batting order. This was not his ordinary position, so presumably, he had been looking forward to a leisurely afternoon in the sun with his feet up, watching his teammates rack up a hefty total against the Northamptonshire students. With Tony playing confidently and patiently, awoken from his slumber, Russell set about dispatching the bowling to all corners of the Park. By the time Russell departed the scene, for 63, the pair had added 83 runs for the ninth wicket, setting a new club record in the process. At the fall of the wicket, Tony was on 43, and with Albert Hudson holding up the other end, Hatfield delayed the declaration until he had completed his half-century. 53 not out, including two sixes and six fours, wasn’t a bad introduction to adult cricket. To answer the questions posed by Tony’s failing memory, he did have a short spell with the ball, taking one wicket for eight runs, and Hatfield won the match by 98 runs. The match report in the Welwyn Hatfield Times stated that ‘Foster showed great coolness and, with more experience, shows great promise of a bright cricketing future.’ Wise words, indeed. After an unbeaten half-century on his debut, it would have been surprising, as well as dispiriting, if Tony hadn’t kept his place in the side, and with vice-captain Michael Russell leading the team in the absence of Eddie Wakeling, Tony was included in the XI that faced Potters Bar at Hatfield Park the following week. Another namecheck in Albert Hudson’s report of proceedings observed that ‘Tony Foster continued his promise of the previous week in making 26.’ It would no doubt have helped that Tony had 86

taken his first catch for the club off Hudson’s bowling in the same match. The 1957 season witnessed a continuation of Tony’s development as a cricketer. A particular highlight was the weekend of 15/16 July. On Saturday, ‘An attractive batting exhibition by Tony Foster’ had seen him score 53 runs for the 1st XI against de Havilland. The following day, playing with the Sunday 2nd XI against Totteridge, for the second time in his first two seasons with the club, he etched his name into its record books. This would become a recurring theme down the years. On this occasion, with Roy Simson, he set a new record partnership for the fifth wicket, adding 125 runs. This was presumably the occasion on which Tony made his highest score of the season, which was his highest to date, of 68 runs. A third half-century during the season escaped the attention of the local newspapers, so it was probably from another outing with the 2nds. This run-fest couldn’t have been more opportune. The agenda for the committee meeting the following evening included considering nominations for that year’s Hertfordshire County Colts trial. After careful deliberation, it was unanimously agreed that Tony Foster was the only suitable candidate from the club’s junior membership. If, at first, you don’t succeed… On his second attempt, Tony successfully put the previous year’s disappointment behind him and managed to impress the county selectors. He was subsequently selected to face Bedfordshire Colts, but other than that, no details of his brief flirtation with county cricket have been preserved for posterity. This is a shame, as this was the first time a Hatfield cricketer had represented Hertfordshire since Branton Bamford, way back in 1897. During his final season as a teenager, 1958, his bowling performances came to the fore for the first time. While admittedly not quite as successful as in the previous summer, this time, he was taking his wickets for the 1st XI. There was nothing spectacular, but he did manage to take five wickets in an innings twice at the end of August (5 for 19 vs. Broxbourne and 5 for 35 vs. Much Hadham) on his way to a total of 27. Again, while his total runs and batting average were similar to the previous season, they were achieved at a higher standard of cricket. A knock of 58 not out against St Albans on the Monday of their cricket week provided him with the fifth half-century of his fledgling career. The club held its annual club supper in the Cranborne Rooms of the Red Lion on Wednesday, 10 December 1858, and Tony received the first of the twenty-four club prizes he would eventually be awarded. Major B G Marriott, a vice-president of the club, had instigated an annual prize to be awarded at the discretion of the club’s committee. It was the decision of the 87

committee that the award should be used to encourage the younger members of the club, and by 1958, the definition of the recipient was as ‘the most outstanding and helpful young member.’ After deliberating, it was decided to honour ‘Tony Foster in recognition of his improvement on the field of play and appreciation of his work on the ground and for the club generally.’ Young, Free, and Single Tony’s appearances for the club in the 1959 season were relatively few and far between; however, when he was available, he produced the goods with the bat, although for reasons unknown, he hardly bowled in this or the following season. While we can do little more than speculate about what kept him off the cricket field, an educated guess is that he was away on National Service. If this was the reason, he must have been fortunate to have been stationed close to home, enabling him to play cricket when on leave. Beginning on 1 January 1949, healthy males aged 17 to 21 were required to serve 18 months in the armed forces. This was increased to two years in October 1950 in response to the Korean War. The exemptions were for those who worked in three ‘essential’ services: coal mining, farming, and the merchant navy, and for conscientious objectors. The armed forces weren’t enamoured at having to babysit these non-professional soldiers, and the practice was slowly phased out from 1957. The final call-ups were issued in 1960, which is likely why he was away from Hatfield for only a relatively short period. The first mention of Tony in a match report in 1959 did not occur until mid-July, and that was in a 2nd XI fixture. Therefore, it is difficult to conclude whether he was absent for the first half of the season or had been playing with the 2nds, whose matches were generally underreported. If the latter is true, then it was to their advantage. In fifteen innings, he passed the fifty mark on four occasions, and his aggregate of 525 runs was his best to date, and his average of 47.73 was a new club record and won him the batting prize. A word of sympathy for Bryan French, who, with 1,223 runs, finished in second place for the fourth successive year. Another milestone was ticked off the list at Redbourn Common on Saturday, 18 July. Playing for the 2nd XI, Tony hit 106 of Hatfield’s 180 runs to score his maiden century, at which time Eddie Wakeling was the only batter to have done so at a younger age for the club. The following couple of seasons became a period of consolidation, serving as the calm before the storm. It is interesting, well, it is to me, the difference in writing about Tony’s career as opposed to the other two ‘le88

gends’. With Lambert and Elliott, knowledge of their performances was gleaned from newspapers rather than statistics, whereas with Tony, the situation is largely reversed. Between the 1959 and 1963 seasons, he is known to have scored fifty or more on sixteen occasions, but only five of these innings have been traced in press reports. All of which gives credence to the suggestion that Ernest Elliott’s totals would have been far greater than recorded. Returning to Tony, although not threatening to top the averages in either discipline, in 1961, he set new personal bests of 559 runs, 29 wickets, and 13 catches. It was, however, in 1962 that Tony demonstrated his true potential as a cricketer. Firmly established as a first-team player, both the runs and wickets flowed. He not only bettered his personal best of runs scored set the previous season, but he shattered it. His first six seasons with the club had seen him hit the fifty mark twelve times. At the seventh time of asking, he did so eight times. Ending the season just shy of a thousand runs, his total of 964 runs, with a highest score of 79 against Haverhill of Suffolk, left him as the season’s highest scorer for the first time in his career. Not satisfied with this, Tony beat his personal bests in bowling and catching, also set in the ous season, with 41 wickets and 17 catches. Third in the batting, fourth in the bowling, and second in the catching wasn’t a bad return for a season’s work. Although at this time it was not normal practice for the club’s statistician, Albert Hudson, to record bowlers’ best performances, on the balance of probability, he also produced his best bowling performance to date. The highlight of Tony’s 1962 season came early. Very early. On the first Saturday of the season. North Mymms were the visitors to Hatfield Park, and they left with their tails between their legs. Hatfield’s innings was a lopsided affair. Coming together at the fall of the second wicket, Tony, who scored 54, aided by Roger Langworth, added 88 runs to the total. Five wickets then fell for the addition of only 20 runs before Frank Shepherd and John Gray joined together for an unbeaten eighth wicket partnership of 60 to enable a declaration at 209 for seven. Tony earned a man-of-thematch performance by taking seven wickets for 41 runs to complete a 105-run victory. It was always going to be a tall order to improve on that. Although his batting declined, with a mere 564 runs, he set new records for both wickets and catches in 1963. A victim of the whims of captaincy, Tony was unfortunate not to have taken more than the 48 wickets that he did. The only 1st XI bowlers to better him in the wicket department, Tony Paulson and David Pickhaver, bowled the majority of the overs, and their strike rates did not 89

compare at all favourably with Tony’s. Fast bowling has always been nature’s favourite son. As for catching, 19 was an impressive return for an outfielder, but second place was always the best that could have been hoped for with 1st XI wicketkeeper Alec Warner beginning a period of dominance in this department. Of little consequence at the time, a long-lasting decision was taken at the Hopfields on Tuesday, 2 April 1963. The only general meeting of Hatfield CC to be held at this venue was primarily to discuss a seismic change for the club, which is described in Parklife: Hatfield Estate Cricket Club 1946-1978, but flying under the radar was the election of Tony Foster to the club’s General Committee. Tony remained an active member of the committee for over fifty years. Did He Jump or Was He Pushed? Who would have thought that, apart from cricket, the common link between the three ‘legends’ was that all their brides were expecting when they walked down the aisle? When this book was in the planning stage, I assumed that Tony’s misdemeanour would be one of the more intriguing non-cricket items included. It was, therefore, surprising to discover that he had the longest wait from holy matrimony to fatherhood. With an eightyear age gap between Tony and his seventeen-year-old fiancée, Ann Simson, there was always suspicion that the wedding had been a shotgun affair. This theory was bolstered by the well-to-do nature of Ann’s father, who, in such circumstances, would have insisted upon Tony doing the right thing and not tarnishing the family’s good name or that of his daughter. While it is not impossible that this was the case, Ann would only have been two months pregnant on her wedding day, so it may simply have been a happy coincidence. I was once told that Ann’s father’s birth was registered in the district of Marylebone, as this was customary for employees of Lord Salisbury. However, this was not the case. Her grandfather, Harry Simson, was born in Marylebone on 5 November 1887. He was the eldest of four sons born to a stableman from Brightwell in Berkshire, arriving two years to the day after Ernest Elliott. Although he evaded the 1891 census, by 1901 the family was living at 21 Linhope Street, Marylebone, which today lies just east of Marylebone Station, though that particular stretch of railway had not yet been laid. By this time, Harry, aged 13, had left school and was working as a baker’s boy. Ten years later, he was employed as a chauffeur, although the identity of his employer had not yet been confirmed. Motoring in the 90

United Kingdom was still at a primitive stage of development, so for youngsters like Harry, chauffeuring was the only way to drive vehicles they could not otherwise afford. Katherine Maude Michel was also in Marylebone at the time. Her father, Philip, was a native of Maxheim, a small town in Bavaria, Germany, that lies alongside the River Danube. A baker and confectioner by trade, Philip arrived on these shores sometime between 1881 and 1886, the year he married Katherine’s mother. Katherine was born in Marylebone on 18 March 1889, and at some time before 1891, the family had moved to 79 Bramley Road, Kensington. Today, this lies in the shadow of the Westway, just north of Latimer Road Underground Station. They did not stay for long, and by the time of the 1901 census, they had returned to Marylebone at 75 Crawford Street, which is a stone’s throw from Linhope Street. By the time Katherine married Harry in 1914, she had six brothers. Harry and Katherine’s son, Eric (Ann’s father), was born in Marylebone on 5 January 1916. By the end of 1917, Eric had been joined by a sister, Phyllis, and the family had moved to 3 Blue Ball Yard, Westminster. The house lies just outside Green Park and was handy for the Houses of Parliament, where Harry’s employer, the 4th Marquess of Salisbury, had a seat in the Lords. While it is true that in later years Harry served as chauffeur to the Marchioness, given Blue Ball Yard’s proximity to the seat of government, it is plausible that he originally drove for Lord Salisbury, who was active in politics at the time. Between 1925 and 1929, he was the Leader of the House of Lords, and it was not long after this that the Simsons headed for Hatfield. While the couple’s third child, Royston Dudley, was born in Westminster on 15 January 1930, Eric’s first known appearance for Hatfield Estate CC was on 3 August 1931. Eric trained as a quantity surveyor at a polytechnic in London, and a fortunate twist of fate secured him a lifelong career. Louis Emanuel Jean Guy de Savoie-Carignan de Soissons, a celebrated Canadian architect, while in London, parked his car in the lot next to where Harry Simson stationed Lady Salisbury’s car. The two became acquainted, and through this connection, he arranged an interview for Eric. Louis took an immediate liking to him and offered him a position at his Louis de Soissons Partnership. After the 1939-45 war, Eric became the business manager and a partner, during which time significant projects such as the restoration of Plymouth after the Blitz were undertaken. Other notable work includes the Warner Stand at Lord’s and the new Law Courts at Winchester, as well as the improvements made in the 1960s-70s era at the Kennington Oval. It 91