Maurice Nichol (Image: Worcestershire Country Cricket Club: A Pictorial History (1980) by M. D. Vockins)
Long before Durham became a first-class county in 1992, some extremely talented cricketers came from the region. A few carved out a career in the Minor Counties Championship but those hoping to reach the highest levels inevitably had to move south, and some climbed to the very top: Bob Willis and Colin Milburn were perhaps the best Durham cricketers before the county’s first-class era. But before that, one Durham-born player came very close to the top, making it onto the field as England’s twelfth man in a Test match, and was seen as a potential international batter. In the 1920s and 1930s, Maurice Nichol — who had qualified to play for Worcestershire in the County Championship — was regarded as the best cricketer to emerge from Durham and one of the most promising players in the country. However, serious illness in 1932 set him back and although he regained his form in 1933, he was never fully recovered. And in 1934 he made the headlines in tragic circumstances when he was found dead in his hotel bedroom on the second morning of a match. Somewhat callously — and inconceivable today — the match continued in Nichol’s absence, and his team-mates could not even attend his funeral as they were playing in another part of the country at the time. Nichol’s death came to overshadow his career, which is unfortunate for he was a very good player — in his all-too-brief career, he scored 7,484 first-class runs at the very respectable average of 34.33 — who quickly reached the upper echelons of county cricket.
Maurice Nichol was the second child of Christopher Nichol, a drapery manager with the Co-operative Society, and Alice Wilson (who at the time of her marriage was working as a domestic servant to a widowed coal-miner). He was born on 10 September 1904 in Hetton-le-Hole, Durham. At the time of the 1911 census, Maurice had an older brother and a younger brother and sister; the family lived at Co-operative Terrace. The younger brother died in 1912, but by 1917, two other boys had been born into the family.
But it is quite likely that the family had a troubled time because Nichol’s father died in 1920, leaving Alice to support five children under the age of eighteen. The 1921 census listed her as having “domestic duties” but no paying job. The sixteen-year-old Maurice and his older brother Ralph (who was seventeen) were listed as an electrician and fitter respectively, but both were out of work, having recently been employed by the Lampton and Hetton Coal Company at Lyons Colliery. The only member of the family employed was the 14-year-old Nellie who was working as a clerk; the other children were still at school. Presumably to make ends meet, the family of a master painter were boarding with the Nichols. In such circumstances, cricket offered an escape and in the case of the two oldest brothers, a means to earn a living. Both brothers were associated with Eppleton Cricket Club, part of the Durham Senior League, which had a reputation as a cricketing nursery for Durham County Cricket Club. Ralph played for the club’s second eleven from the age of fourteen and — like Maurice — went on to represent Durham (for whom he played alongside Maurice between 1924 and 1927). He also played as a professional for various clubs from the late 1920s, but lived most of his life in Hetton-le-Hole, where he distinguished himself as a church organist and long-time treasurer of Eppleton.
Yet it was Maurice who attracted more attention as a cricketer. He first played for Eppleton Second Eleven at the age of thirteen and reached the first team by the age of sixteen. By 1923, he was playing for Durham as an amateur in the Minor Counties Championship. At the beginning of the 1926 season, he was given a trial by Surrey with a view to joining their groundstaff as a professional; a feature in the Newcastle Evening Chronicle noted with some regret that he was likely to be lost to Durham and described him as “the most promising batsman Durham has produced since the war”. Such was his growing reputation that the trial was even reported in the Daily Mirror, which described him as a “product of the Eppleton Nursery”. But his trial did not work out because — as the Daily Mirror recounted later in the season — he “[failed] to come to satisfactory terms”. Whether he was discarded or was dissatisfied with the money offered, he returned to Eppleton and continued to progress, topping Durham’s batting averages for the season. He continued to play for the county until 1928, increasing his average each season.
But he had ambitions at a higher level and at the start of the 1927 he signed a professional contract with Worcestershire and began the process of qualifying; to do so he had to live within the county for two years before becoming eligible to play in the County Championship. In the meantime, he continued to play for Durham but was able to play in Worcestershire’s non-Championship games. He made a spectacular first-class debut in a high-scoring draw between the county and the touring West Indies team in 1928. On the second day of a two-day game, he scored 104 before he was dismissed after sharing a partnership of 207 for the second wicket with Harold Gibbons. He was the first Worcestershire batter to score a century on his first-class debut.
Once he had qualified in time for the 1929 season, Nichol was a first team regular for the next five seasons. Worcestershire generally occupied the lower half of the County Championship, and were usually close to the bottom, but Nichol quickly became one of the team’s leading player, and his progress was followed with obvious pride in the Durham press. He scored over 1,000 first-class runs — the mark of a reasonable batter — in each season between 1929 and 1931 at an average around thirty, and received his Worcestershire cap in 1929. In 1930, he scored 1,589 runs at 34.54 (the best aggregate by a Worcestershire professional at the time), including what remained his highest first-class score, an unbeaten 262 against Hampshire at Bournemouth. That season, when he topped Worcestershire’s batting averages (among the regular batters), The Cricketer was already describing him as one of the team’s “leading professionals” and praised his ability to attack slow bowling. And following the loss of the Ashes to Australia that summer, an article in The Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News criticised the England selectors for overlooking the younger talent, including Nichol, in that season’s representative matches.
A cartoon of Nichol from 1933 (Image: Hartlepool Northern Daily Mail, 20 July 1933)
Nichol seems to have been an aesthetically pleasing batter, noted for his cover-drive and hook shot. As his Wisden obituary put it: “Nichol possessed a neat style and, as he proved himself a consistent run-getter, hopes were entertained that he would become an England cricketer.” And in 1931 Walter Hammond singled him out for praise: “There are several batsmen whose development I am watching with special keenness … I have also high hopes Maurice Nichol, of Worcester. He knows all the shots, is forceful, without being reckless, and if that innings of 64 which he recently played against my county [Gloucestershire] at Stourbridge is typical, then here is an England batsman of the future.”
As it happened, the closest Nichol came to Test cricket was selection as England’s twelfth man in the first Test against New Zealand at Lord’s in 1931; it was a slightly odd situation because he was explicitly named before the game as twelfth man, but Frank Woolley was named as “cover” for Herbert Sutcliffe (who was struggling with an injury and eventually dropped out). Shortly after this, Nichol was selected to appear for the Players against the Gentlemen in the annual match at Lord’s; this was to be his only appearance in representative cricket. His form fell away in the latter part of the season, which The Cricketer attributed to carelessness creeping into his batting.
Any hopes of correcting this in 1932 were severely hampered by health problems. In March 1932, Nichol was hospitalised in Sunderland Royal Infirmary with double pneumonia and pleurisy. It was reported in the press at the time that he was “seriously ill”. Although he survived, he spent months in hospital and was left with damage to his heart from which he never fully recovered. After leaving hospital, he took time to regain his strength and he was absent from Worcestershire’s first games of the 1932 season. After appearing in a few matches in late May, he missed the next month on medical advice. A journalist for the Sunderland Daily Echo was informed during the season that Nichol would have to give up the game for his health. With hindsight, it would have been better if he had done so. When Nichol eventually returned, the same writer noted that he lacked the stamina to play longer innings. In the circumstances, his return of 762 runs at 30.48 was respectable, even if he failed to score any centuries.
Nichol completing his hundredth run against Middlesex at Lord’s in 1933 (Image: Daily Mirror, 24 June 1933)
It seemed as if Nichol had shaken off the effects of his illness by the time of the 1933 season, which proved to be his best in first-class cricket. Assisted by a glorious summer which favoured batters, he scored 2,154 runs at an average of 43.95. Having failed to record any centuries in 1932, he managed eight in 1933 (he had scored nine in his previous five seasons in first-class cricket). Three of these came in his final three innings of the season: 116 against Hampshire, 165 not out against Glamorgan and 154 against Yorkshire. But batting was so easy that season that he finished only third in Worcestershire’s averages, and although he surpassed the previous record number of runs in a season for the county (which had stood since 1901), his amateur team-mate (and the county captain) Cyril Walters scored even more than him. Perhaps the flat pitches were the reason why Nichol also bowled more than usual; as an occasional leg-spin bowler, he had only taken four first-class wickets in his career before 1933, but in that season he took 16 wickets and proved useful on occasions. But in such a high-scoring season, Nichol never stood out; even in the Worcestershire team he was surrounded by good batting and the two men ahead of his in the averages — Walters and the Nawab of Pataudi — were Test batters who averaged over fifty for the season. And either because he had fallen away in 1931 when he was on the fringes of the Test team or because of his health problems, Nichol was never in contention for that summer’s Test series against the West Indies, nor for a place in the MCC team that toured India in the winter of 1933–34.
Behind the scenes, it was clear that Nichol was not fully recovered. Because of his weakened heart, he often suffered palpitations after exerting himself. And when Worcestershire played Essex at Leyton in early June, he was taken ill at Stratford station on his way to the ground on the third morning with severe palpitations. He did not bat that day as Worcestershire fell to an innings defeat, and he missed the county’s next match. Some newspapers even reported that he had suffered a “heart attack” (although this would not necessarily have carried its modern meaning). However, he returned for the following game, just four days after being taken ill. Perhaps had he heeded the warning signs and given up cricket, he might have lived much longer than he did. Instead, he kept going.
Chelmsford High Street around 1900, showing the Saracen’s Head Hotel where Nichol died (Image: The Blog of the Essex Record Office)
Nichol appeared in Worcestershire’s first three matches of the 1934 season without having too much success. On 19 May, the team travelled to Chelmsford to play Essex. On the first day of a three-day match, Essex scored 367 for six. Nichol bowled two overs for seven runs. The next day — a Sunday — was a rest day, as was usual at the time. Some of the Worcestershire team spent the day playing golf; Nichol was among them. In the evening, the professionals returned to the hotel where they were staying, the Saracen’s Head. Joined by their amateur team-mate, the Nawab of Pataudi, they spent time in the hotel lounge until around 11:30. Some of them then relocated to Nichol’s room where they chatted and joked; Nichol sat on his cricket bag. After the players went off to bed, Nichol visited Harold Gibbons to ask for a cigarette and took a magazine to read in bed. Percy Jackson, another team-mate, later called in Nichol’s room and saw him sitting in bed reading.
At 9:00 the following morning (21 May), a hotel chambermaid knocked on Nichol’s door but got no response and went to get help. The Worcestershire player Sidney Martin went into the room and found Nichol dead in his bed, only wearing a shirt. A doctor was summoned and his examination suggested that Nichol had been dead for seven or eight hours. It is hard to imagine the reaction of Nichol’s team-mates, and the shock they must have felt. It is even harder to imagine how they were expected to carry on as normal because despite the horrific beginning to the day, the cricket match against Essex had to continue, although the start was delayed for around half-an-hour. When play resumed, the two teams wore black armbands and after the first over had been bowled, a minutes silence (reported as two minutes in some newspapers) was held before the match continued. Essex took their total to 469, but by the end of the second day, Worcestershire had already replied with 444 for three. In an astonishing display in the circumstances, the Worcestershire openers (Walters and Harold Gibbons) shared a partnership of 279. They never seemed to speak of it after, but their resilience made quite an impression. Both men scored centuries, but Walters did not react or celebrate after reaching three figures. The Nawab of Pataudi made 97.
The match continued the following day (22 June). Worcestershire — with only ten batters — subsided to 515 all out and the match drifted to a draw. On the scorecards available at the ground, the printers put black lines above and below Nichol’s name and left his score blank. The press recorded him in various ways: some omitted his name from the Worcestershire scorecard; some recorded him as “absent”, others “deceased”. The Cricketer and Wisden opted for “absent”. But while the match was drifting to its uncomfortable close, an inquest was taking place, at which several of the Worcestershire team appeared.
The players — chiefly Harold Gibbons — gave an account of the Sunday evening and Monday morning. Questioned by the coroner, Sidney Martin suggested that Nichol was only wearing his shirt because he had laid on the bed to read before putting on the pyjamas that he had with him. The doctor who had examined the body referred to a bottle of aspirin found in the room, but did not believe that Nichol could have taken enough to have been responsible for his death. The doctor had performed a post-mortem which revealed that Nichol’s heart was extremely enlarged; the doctor was surprised he had lived as long as he had given his occupation. While these details were doubtless upsetting for the team, there was nothing unusual enough to warrant holding an inquest as even the newspapers believed that heart failure had been the cause of death. But it also emerged that the press had been responsible for the coroner deciding that an inquest was needed.
A syndicated report had appeared on Monday evening (and Tuesday morning) in many newspapers that on the night before he died, Nichol had engaged in “wrestling”. Early rumours had even suggested that he had died while wrestling, something the county captain Walters had explicitly denied in the press on Monday (although the story continued to circulate). The implications, whether accidental or not, were clear and prompted the coroner’s course of action. The Worcestershire players were understandably furious. Several referred indignantly to the report at the inquest. When questioned by the coroner, everyone denied that any “horse-play” had taken place in Nichol’s room, although they conceded there might have been noise as they were laughing and joking. Harold Gibbons said that he did not know where the story had originated but called it “disgusting”. The coroner remarked when giving his verdict: “I think it is sufficiently distressing that this death should have occurred with such dramatic suddenness, not only to his friends but to the Worcestershire team. But to suggest that it was associated with what has been suggested makes it particularly more painful, and the suggestion is one for which there is no foundation whatever. It is extremely unpleasant for those in his company the previous evening. It is unpardonable for those statements to be made that way. In the absence of such statement I should certainly have not held an inquest.”
The inquest returned a verdict of death by cardiac failure following pneumonia.
Nichol had been only 29 years old when he died. He left a fiancé; he had become engaged to a women called Dorothy Ayres (born in Aston Manor in 1909), who lived in Worcester at the Vaults Inn where her father was the publican. That is presumably where she met Nichol. A few days after his death, she was one of the mourners at his funeral back in his Durham hometown. Nichol’s body was taken from Chelmsford to Hetton-le-Hole, where it stayed in his mother’s home before the funeral. After the service at Eppleton Parish Church, he was buried in Hetton Cemetery on the Friday; representatives of Worcestershire were present (although not the team, which was playing against Glamorgan) and several of the Durham team acted as pall-bearers. There were wreaths from several county clubs.
Life carried on. Worcestershire had a poor season, which was hardly unusual but at least one press report suggested that the team had been badly affected by Nichol’s death and, more prosaically, the loss of his runs. The Cricketer was sympathetic but suggested that it was doubtful that he had been strong enough for first-class cricket after his pneumonia. The following spring, his obituary appeared in Wisden, which noted the unfortunate coincidence that he had been taken ill in Essex in the previous season; a few pages further on, there was the obituary of another player from the ill-fated Essex-Worcestershire match: Dudley Pope had been killed in a car crash in September 1934. Six years later, Charles Bull — one of Nichol’s Worcestershire team-mates in that game — was also killed in a car crash.
Perhaps affected by the death of her son, Alice Nichol died in 1935. Dorothy Ayres married an auctioneer called George Smith in 1936. And Nichol’s brother Ralph died in 1960, having never married.
In May 2014, the story of Nichol’s death was featured on ESPNcricinfo; a side-panel listed cricketers who had died during a match. That November, there was a tragic echo of the events of 1934 when Phil Hughes died after being struck on the neck during a Sheffield Shield game. The reactions of the authorities, the care taken of the players — including the cancellation of the entire round of Sheffield Shield matches — and the outpouring of sympathy perhaps illustrated how far cricket had come since the death of Nichol and the callous way in which his team-mates just had to carry on.
Note: Nichol should not be confused with the very similarly named Maurice (“Stan”) Nichols who played for Essex in the 1930s and also took part in the match in which Nichol died.
Old Ebor 