“He goes about from place to place in a luxuriant and extravagant manner”: Why did J. M. Blanckenberg really play league cricket in England?

Blanckenberg pictured on a D. C. Thompson Cigarette Card from 1924

One of the most mysterious of all Test cricketers was James Manuel Blanckenberg, a leading South African bowler between 1913 and 1924. His medium-paced spin baffled Warwick Armstrong’s world-beating Australian team in 1921, but a leg injury hampered him for the following seasons, and he was surpassed by other bowlers. Furthermore, the South African Test team was very poor in this period, and lacked depth. When it toured England in 1924, the team was outclassed; the home team won the Test series 3–0 and Blanckenberg — and the other bowlers — were powerless on turf pitches which offered far less assistance than the matting on which they played in South Africa. This signalled a change in Blanckenberg’s career as he embarked on a new career as a professional cricketer in the leagues of northern England. It was a change that he made an undoubted success of, and it allows us to fill in some of the gaps in the biography of this elusive figure. But why did one of the leading bowlers in the world turn his back on South Africa? His reasons for going to England may have lain not in cricket, but in a desire to escape his financial responsibilities in South Africa: namely, his daughter and his former wife.

The cricket side of the equation which explains Blanckenberg’s move to England is straightforward. The Lancashire League club Nelson wanted a player to replace their professional E. A. McDonald, who had agreed to join Lancashire County Cricket Club in 1925. Blanckenberg’s reputation, and a recommendation from several leading cricketers (including McDonald), made him Nelson’s preferred choice. This was a big change for Blanckenberg. Until then, he had been an amateur cricketer; in South Africa he worked as an excise officer. Now, he was to become a full-time professional in another country. At the time, despite the success of McDonald between 1922 and 1924, there were few international Test players in English league cricket; although McDonald had shown that such a signing could be successful, few clubs or players dared take the plunge. In Blanckenberg’s first season, there were only two other overseas professionals in the Lancashire League, and both were South Africans: C. B. Llewellyn, who had settled in England some years before, and Blanckenberg’s Test team-mate C. P. Carter.

But there were other factors in Blanckenberg’s decision. On 23 October 1919, he had married Ethel Lilian Freeman. All indications are that the marriage was a rushed one — and perhaps Blanckenberg dragged his feet — because three months after the wedding, their first child, Doreen Mavis Blanckenberg, was born. Their second, Dennis James, died at the age of three months in September 1921. Two years later, the couple divorced acrimoniously, and Blanckenberg found himself before the courts several times. According to Ethel’s account, he left her in September 1920 (which must have almost exactly when she became pregnant with Dennis), but even before that he had lived separately and only visited occasionally; she continued to reside with her father throughout. Ethel began divorce proceedings around the beginning of 1923, at which time Blanckenberg was living in a hotel in Cape Town. He could not attend the first hearing, as he was involved in the 1922–23 Test series against England (the hearing took place between the second and third Tests), but he made clear that he did not intend to fight the divorce. The court ruled that if he did not return to Ethel, a divorce would be granted; he would have the costs to pay and to provide £10 each month for Doreen. He did not return, and the divorce was finalised on 24 April 1923.

By June 1923, Blanckenberg had paid just £5 in two months and Ethel took him to court for non-payment. She observed that he “lives at a first class Hotel in Cape Town, viz. the Regent Palace Hotel, and goes about from place to place apparently in a very luxuriant and extravagant manner and appears to be able to support his said minor child, but wilfully refuses or neglects to do so”. The result was a suspended prison sentence for contempt of court, which had to be served on Blanckenberg at the hotel as he had once more not attended the hearing. It made little difference. By the time he was due to leave for England with the South African team on 6 April 1924, he was still behind in his payments. Ethel’s solicitor attempted to have him arrested before he left the country; Blanckenberg — doubtless in some desperation — found enough money to make two large payments which covered most of what he owed, allowing him to leave with the team. While he was on tour, his maintenance payments were made by the South African Cricket Association, although these were only for £5 per month rather than the required £10.

A final note in the file from Ethel’s solicitor dated June 1925 states: “I think I have done all I reasonably could for Mrs Blanckenberg”. At this point, Ethel fell out with her solicitor and the records stop. But this places a different light on Blanckenberg’s decision to remain in England. It may also explain his decision to leave Western Province to play for Natal in 1923, and account for his offer to Nelson in 1922 to play for their team when it looked like McDonald was to pull out of his controversial agreement with the club. It appears that Blanckenberg was trying to escape Ethel and his financial commitments.

Certainly his movements after the 1924 tour ended were a little strange. Nelson had offered a contract, but he delayed signing — as the Burnley Express put it, “for reasons of his own” — until the end of October. Meanwhile, the bulk of the South African team left Southampton aboard the Armadale Castle on 26 September; Blanckenberg’s name was on the passenger list but was crossed out and he remained in England. According to press reports, he had contracted influenza and was quite ill for a time when it developed into pneumonia. He therefore delayed his departure to recover and spent a few days in Nelson to convalesce. He used the opportunity to sign the contract they were offering; he took up the option of an initial two year deal. The Athletic News reassured its readers — and any Nelson supporters — that Blanckenberg was “a much better cricketer than his record during the last summer revealed.”

SS Edinburgh Castle (Image: State Library of Queensland)

What happened next is something of a mystery. His intention seems to have been to return to South Africa on the same boat as an English side — organised by S. B. Joel and including several famous cricketers — which was to tour South Africa over the winter. And he is named, alongside the English cricketers, on the passenger list for the Edinburgh Castle, which departed from Southampton on 24 October. But according to the Burnley Express of 1 November, he was still in Nelson having chosen to delay his departure until he was fully recovered. Either the passenger list was inaccurate or the Burnley Express had made a mistake. But there is evidence that he never reached South Africa: he seems to have spent most of the winter in Switzerland to assist his recovery from illness. Even this was not straightforward; rumours seem to have begun circulating from February 1925 that Blanckenberg would not be joining Nelson after all. These were widespread enough for Blanckenberg feel obliged to write twice to Nelson in order to reassure the club that he would fulfil his contract.

The second letter (which followed on from an earlier telegram) suggested that his health was still uncertain. He revealed that while in Switzerland in February 1925, he developed tonsillitis which left him “terribly thin as a result”. After he recovered, he arranged to visit Nice and Monte Carlo “with some friends”, but he once again contracted influenza while he was there. The final part of his winter journey took him to Paris, where he revealed that his throat once more troubled him. He claimed that, eager to travel to Nelson, he ignored medical advice to stay in bed and had yet another relapse that was feared to be diphtheria. Therefore Blanckenberg regretfully informed Nelson that he would be forced to miss the beginning of the 1925 season, but he added: “Believe me, the minute I can safely do so I intend coming to Nelson.” Most of the letter was reproduced in the Lancashire Evening Post on 1 May.

Was Blanckenberg genuinely ill? Was he simply avoiding returning to South Africa, where he knew that trouble awaited him in the form of his former wife’s solicitor? Or was he just enjoying the high life? And how was he able to afford what sounds to have been an extravagant holiday in France? Monte Carlo was not the kind of destination which lent itself to frugality, and the most obvious attraction would have been the casinos. This would certainly reinforce the impression given by Ethel: that he enjoyed spending money. Was he also spinning a tale to Nelson to make excuses for his late arrival? Such a catalogue of misfortune as documented in the second letter strains at the bounds of credibility, particularly the claim that he suffered a relapse from trying to travel to Nelson too soon.

While it would be fascinating to know what was really in Blanckenberg’s mind, or what he was actually doing in Switzerland and France, all we can do is deal with the facts. These are that he missed Nelson’s first three matches of the 1925 season — temporary professionals stood in his place — but finally made his Nelson debut three weeks after the season began, in a Worsley Cup match against Church on 9 May, taking four for 20 and scoring 0 (hit wicket). After the delays, illnesses and uncertainty, his first season was an undoubted success with both bat and ball. He finished the season ninth in the league batting averages (among those who batted in at least ten times) with 565 runs at 25.68, and 15th in bowling (among those with twenty or more wickets) with 88 wickets at 11.26 and Nelson finished joint second in the league, equalling their placing from the previous season. At the end of the season, he returned to Switzerland in order to rest and recover.

Blanckenberg bowling in 1924 (Image: The Graphic, 17 May 1924)

For the next three seasons, Blanckenberg maintained these standards. Initially, he was viewed as one of the best bowlers in the competition, but his batting gradually improved until he was one of the best batsmen as well. With the ball, he took 83 wickets (at an average of 10.91, the 12th best in the league) in 1926, 65 (at 11.10, 16th) in 1927 and 80 (at 10.65, 7th) in 1928. However, on the tricky pitches which tended to predominate in the Lancashire League, his bowling was good but not enough to make an enormous difference. His batting, on the other hand, began to have a serious impact. In 1926, he scored 701 runs (at 35.05, 3rd in the league average) which broke the 34-year-old record for a professional at Nelson. After a dip in 1927, when his 510 runs at 25.50 still placed him fifth in the averages, he reached new heights in 1928. He scored 810 runs, setting a new record for any Nelson batsman in a season, and his average of 47.64 was the best in the league. Blanckenberg and the Australian Test player Arthur Richardson of Bacup — the only “overseas” players in the league that year — were involved in a well-publicised race to top the averages, and at one time it looked like both would reach 1,000 runs, something only achieved once in the history of the league until then. Richardson eventually finished third but had the highest aggregate: two runs more than Blanckenberg. The review of the season in The Cricketer suggested that Blanckenberg was a far better batsman than he had been when he toured in 1924, although his bowling was about the same.

More importantly for Nelson, he continued their run of success begun in the days of McDonald. The club fell to seventh in 1926 but won the Worsley Cup, improved to fifth in 1927 and won the league in 1928, their first such success since 1911. That season, the club also won the Worsley Cup, their first “double”, to set the seal on Blanckenberg’s time at the club. In 1926, the Nelson secretary, Mr.E. Ashton, wrote: “We have had many valuable professionals since the club was established, but it is doubtful if we have had one who has rendered us better all round service.”

But there was a sense of impermanence to Blanckenberg’s time at Nelson, and he never seems to have been entirely satisfied. In March 1927, he applied for the position of Secretary at Worcestershire County Cricket Club. The role would have involved playing for the team in the County Championship, which may have been an attraction for him. Was he dissatisfied with life in the leagues? He was 35 at the time, and maybe he wanted to play on a bigger stage once more. Although he was one of the final two candidates, he was not appointed; J. B. Payne was given the role (although he was secretary for just one season; C. F. Walters took over in 1928), with an annual salary of £300. It is possible that this salary may have been a sticking point for Blanckenberg, who would almost certainly have been paid more at Nelson. Given his continuing financial commitments in South Africa, and his own apparent recklessness with money, £300 might not have been enough.

The sense that he was unsettled continued during the 1927 season. Newspaper reports suggested that his future was uncertain; the expectation was that he would return to South Africa at the end of the season. One story, printed in the Leeds Mercury, suggested that “movements are afoot in South Africa” to bring him home in time for the Test series against England in 1927–28, but nothing came of this. In fact, there is no record that he ever returned to South Africa at all; his name does not seem to appear on any passenger list and it seems that he lived permanently in England until after the Second World War.

Blanckenberg left Nelson after the 1928 season, although it is not clear if he chose to move or was replaced. His departure was common knowledge before Nelson signed Learie Constantine during the West Indies’ tour of England in 1928, but negotiations had been ongoing for a while, and it may have been that the club had already told Blanckenberg of their intentions. Blanckenberg signed instead for the East Lancashire club, which some reports stated offered him more money than Nelson. This seems doubtful for several reasons; stories around the time that Constantine joined the club recalled that McDonald had been paid £400 per season, and according to the Sporting Chronicle in June 1928, Blanckenberg was “paid not very far short of that sum”. And for once, we can be sure of Blanckenberg’s wage at East Lancashire thanks to a court case when he received a summons to Burnley County Court in June 1930 for not paying income tax. He told the court that he was paid £340 for the season, plus collections and talent money. By contrast, Constantine was paid £500 per season for his initial deal with Nelson, plus travelling expenses and performance bonuses; it looks as if Blanckenberg may have taken a pay cut to move clubs.

Whatever the cause for him leaving, there was no acrimony. In April 1929 the club gave him a farewell dinner. An article in the Burnley Express at the end of his final season said: “The four seasons Blanckenberg spent at Nelson have had a great bearing on the present efficiency of the side. The South African is an enthusiast, and loves the game, and the young players owe debt of gratitude to him for the advice and coaching they have received at his hands.” Praise for his influence on young players continued in later years, not least when Clifford Hawkwood, a Nelson player who was the “‘shadow’ of ‘Jimmie’ Blanckenberg in his play” according to the Nelson Leader in 1931, was selected for the Lancashire team.

But Blanckenberg was not to know that his undoubted accomplishments at Nelson would be utterly overshadowed by his replacement: Learie Constantine not only had an incredible record on the field and led Nelson to a prolonged period of success (the club won the league seven times during his nine seasons there and runners up in the other two), but he was so popular and such a draw for spectators that he almost single-handedly brought about vastly increased attendances and gate receipts for Nelson and the whole league. His unprecedented attraction to spectators almost instantly solved Nelson’s financial worries and made them one of the richest clubs in the league.

Blanckenberg’s move to East Lancashire was a success on the field at first. In 1929, he scored 949 runs at 39.54 (3rd) and took 75 wickets at 12.58 (12th). Once more, he was engaged in a battle with Richardson, and although the latter came out on top, passing 1,000 runs, critics mainly viewed Blanckenberg as the more attractive, stylish and entertaining batsman. The clashes between Blanckenberg and Constantine, when East Lancashire faced Nelson, were keenly anticipated; more than ten thousand came to watch the first game, played at Nelson. Blanckenberg scored 77 out of 127 (Constantine took four for 58) but was on the losing side. We shall return to this match later, because something very important happened which has driven all subsequent understanding of Blanckenberg as a cricketer and as a man, but for now it is better to conclude the story of his league cricket career.

In 1930, Blanckenberg began to decline: he scored 435 runs at 19.77 (28th) and took 54 wickets at 15.75 (24th). It was at this time that he found himself in court for non-payment of income tax; once again, he found himself threatened with imprisonment if he did not pay what he owed. The case, which was reported in local newspapers, gave full details of his financial situation. His wage from East Lancashire was £340. Of this, he was sending £60 a year to his ex-wife (which would have been less than the £120 he was supposed to pay), and East Lancashire were deducting ten shillings weekly to repay an advance sent to him over the winter (which worked out at £10 for the season). It was also revealed that he had at least two county court judgements against him and he was paying a further ten shillings “in respect of another case”. Part of the issue may have been that he was not working in the winter, but it does seem that his financial problems were multiplying; the advance given to him by East Lancashire over the winter may have been urgently needed to meet his expenses. Perhaps he enjoyed an extravagant lifestyle that he could not afford: certainly his financial problems in South Africa, the damning testimony of Ethel and his visit to Monte Carlo in 1925 all point towards a man who spent too much and was accustomed to financial strife.

That July, it was announced that Blanckenberg had signed for Rochdale, a club in the Central Lancashire League, for 1931; he was taking over as professional from Sydney Barnes. Had Blanckenberg’s loss of form resulted in the loss of his contract? Or did he decide to move? The latter seems unlikely as the Central Lancashire League was definitely seen as subordinate to the Lancashire League.

Laura Rofe (Image: Liverpool Echo, 2 April 1931)

There was also a development in his personal life. On 1 April 1931, Blanckenberg married Laura Herberta Freda Rofe, a gymnastics teacher (or as she put it on the marriage certificate, a “Physical Culture Mistress”) at the Blackburn High School for Girls. Both were living in Blackburn at the time and married at the Register Office. The local press reported the event, and given Blanckenberg’s relative fame, a crowd gathered outside, only to be disappointed when the newly-married couple slipped out of a back exit to avoid them. A newspaper reporter also related how Blanckenberg, on arriving at Laura’s house on the morning of the wedding, found a ladder against the wall, placed there for repairs. With the aid of a journalist, he moved it to avoid anyone having to walk underneath and bring bad luck. After the wedding, the couple departed on a “motoring honeymoon”. Among their gifts were presents from Laura’s school colleagues, pupils and former pupils; Blanckenberg received a cheque from members of East Lancashire. There was no mention of anything else, such as a gift from his former Nelson colleagues. He was also unusually precise on the marriage certificate; his “condition” was listed as: “The divorced husband of Ethel Lilian Blanckenberg, formerly Freeman (spinster).”

The newly-married Blanckenberg made a good start to his career with Rochdale in 1931. He scored 555 runs at 30.83 (second in the league averages) and took 59 wickets at 12.03. (fourteenth in the averages). His best performance came in early July, after he had made a poor start to the season with the bat, when he hit 115 not out and took nine for 28 in the match against Milnrow. During the season, he also made a brief return to the Lancashire League when he played two matches as a replacement professional: one for Colne and one for Burnley. He stayed at Rochdale until 1933 and continued to excel. In 1932, he broke the Central Lancashire League run-scoring record in a single season with 916 runs at 39.82 (3rd in the averages) and took 76 wickets at 12.26 (11th). In 1933, he scored 591 runs at 31.10 (5th) and took 54 wickets at 16.42 (20th). But that was the end of his Rochdale career. In February 1934, he announced his retirement from professional cricket, owing to a leg injury which he said, in a letter written to the Rand Daily Mail, prevented him bowling. This may have been the same leg which he injured in 1921 and which had hampered him for some time.

Blanckenberg’s league record in England is a formidable one. For Nelson, he scored 2,586 runs at 32.73 (his highest score was 143 not out) and took 316 wickets at 10.98 (his best figures were nine for 41) in 93 matches. For East Lancashire he made 1,384 runs at 30.08 (his highest score was 120) and took 129 wickets at 13.91 (best figures of nine for 45) in 52 matches. When taken with his two matches in 1931, he scored 4,000 runs at 31.49 and took 448 wickets at 11.91 in 147 matches in the Lancashire League between 1925 and 1931. In the Central Lancashire League, he scored 2,062 runs at 34.37 and took 189 wickets at 13.38 between 1931 and 1933. Whatever else can be said about him, Blanckenberg was one of the best league players of his time and but for his questionable reputation and his utter eclipse by Constantine he might have been remembered as one of the most effective of all.

Blanckenberg photographed around 1936 (Image: Leeds Mercury, 13 February 1936)

Although Blanckenberg no longer played professionally, he was not finished as a cricketer. He moved to the Bradford area and played as an amateur for Keighley in 1934 (alongside Sydney Barnes, who had lurked in the background of Blanckenberg’s career since before the war) and 1935. An article in the Shipley Times and Express in early 1934 suggested that he had played occasionally for Keighley in 1933 during some holiday games. There are few records of his time at the club, other than the occasional newspaper mention. He did not play enough to make the published averages in 1934, and in 1935 he scored 300 runs at 27.27 but did not make the leading bowling averages. It was reported in February 1936 that he was to captain the team in the coming season. From the fragmentary records, it appears that he appeared infrequently that year, although he continued to play (and captain) in 1937. An article in the Leeds Mercury in 1936, announcing his appointment as captain, suggested that his presence had attracted several promising young players to the club. The only performances of note which he seems to have had for Keighley were an unbeaten century in a cup match against Bradford in 1935 and figures of five for 27 against Bingley in 1936.

After 1937, Blanckenberg faded into obscurity. This disappearance is part of the reason that so much mystery and rumour surrounds him, but it is possible to put together a little bit more about him than is generally realised. His wife seems to have played a much more public role than him. By the late 1930s, Mrs Blanckenberg (as she was usually listed) was giving demonstrations of physical fitness in Sussex and was part of the Central Council of Recreative Physical Training, part of her role being to travel around the country giving talks, demonstrations and offering training sessions. She continued in this role during and after the Second World War, and at least once seems to have involved her husband: he was listed as attending cricket practices in Cambridge organised by the local National Fitness Committee and the Central Council of Recreative Physical Training in 1939.

By 1938, the couple were living in London, according to the Electoral Register. The 1939 Register taken at the beginning of the war lists them at 9 Gloucester Street in Westminster. Blanckenberg’s occupation was listed as the “H. S. A. Sports League Secretary” (The H. S. A. was the Hospital Savings Association, an organisation that helped members save for medical care and health insurance). Laura was listed as a “Physical Training Specialist”. We have no record of where they lived during the war, although Laura continued to work publicly for the Central Council of Recreative Physical Training. The last record we have for Blanckenberg is the 1947 Electoral Register, which lists him and Laura living in Harrow at 45 Sherrington Avenue. By 1948, Blanckenberg and Laura were divorced, and she married another divorcee called Samuel Medlicott. She died in 1991 in Birmingham.

Of Blanckenberg, there is no further trace in England or South Africa. He simply vanishes from the records, and no-one knows with any certainty what happened next. His first wife Ethel died in 1961; his daughter Doreen died in South Africa in 2005, but she seems to have had little contact with him. Into the vacuum, all kinds of strange and contradictory stories have rushed. There are some solidly attested events that have fed speculation about his possible fate, and these shed some unpleasant light on him. But can they help with the biggest question of all: what happened to J. M. Blanckenberg?

Note: Thanks to Michael Jones, who was able to provide information on Blanckenberg’s divorce.

“A grand fellow”: The later years of Manny Martindale

Martindale bowls to Len Hutton at the Oval in the third Test of the 1939 series (Image: Leeds Mercury, 21 August 1939)

By the mid-1930s, the undisputed fastest bowler in the world was Manny Martindale of Barbados and the West Indies. Admittedly, there was not a great deal of competition at that time, but Martindale established a good reputation during the West Indies’ 1933 tour of England and a fearsome one when West Indies defeated England 2–1 in the 1934–35 series, particularly after breaking Bob Wyatt’s jaw. Following this performance, he was signed by Burnley Cricket Club to play professionally in the Lancashire League between 1936 and 1938. By the time he had completed three largely successful seasons at the club — albeit ones in which might have been viewed as slightly disappointing given his status — he had moved his entire family to live in Burnley and make a new life there. But looming over the 1938 season was the question of the forthcoming tour of England by the West Indies in 1939. The West Indies Board of Control were keen for Burnley to allow Martindale to play, but nothing was certain; Learie Constantine, for example, had missed most of the 1933 tour owing to his commitments with Nelson Cricket Club.

Negotiations over Martindale’s place on the 1939 tour went on through the 1938 season. There were some suspicions in the West Indies that Burnley were reluctant to release him, but the delay was largely over whether he would be released from his contract completely, or just for the Test matches. The Burnley President, at the annual meeting, emphasised that the club would never stand in the way of any player appearing in Test matches. He said that the club had agreed to release Martindale, whose wish to take part in the tour was given precedence; he would be available for the entirety of the 1939 tour. Amar Singh was to be his replacement for 1939, and the position of professional for 1940, when Martindale was expected to be available, would be reviewed later.

Behind the scenes, however, the problem lay not with Burnley but with the West Indies Cricket Board, and the issue of paying the three professionals in the team — Martindale, Constantine and Headley, who played league cricket in England. The rest of the West Indies team was entirely amateur and required no money other than expenses; the professionals would have to be paid if the West Indies Cricket Board was to have their services. Furthermore, the presence of all three men was essential to the success of the tour. They were well-known in England and were guaranteed to draw crowds; and if the West Indies were to have any chance of on-field success that summer, they would depend heavily on the trio.

All three of their clubs — Burnley, Rochdale (for whom Constantine played in 1938) and Haslingden (Headley’s club) — were happy to release their players, all of whom expressed the wish to join the West Indies. They also agreed a pay cut, but while the Board offered Constantine £600, it offered only £500 to Headley and Martindale. When the latter two became aware of the gap, they were not happy and Martindale wrote a letter to the WICB, in which he said: “My remuneration in a league season exceeds by a big margin whatever I shall receive for playing with the West Indies, with much less cricket. Therefore considering all of the above-mentioned circumstances, I feel I am doing West Indies cricket a great favour in deciding to play on tour, for which I must be paid £600 and expenses.” The WICB conceded and offered £600 to all three players, but Headley and Martindale held out a little longer, requesting the same £50 clothing allowance offered to the amateur players. The WICB, run by white Europeans, was reluctant to concede; their attitude was doubtless driven by racism and issues of class, but in the end they had little choice but to agree.

This, in turn, angered Constantine, who had been given an informal guarantee to be the best-paid professional owing to his senior status. Although the WICB suspected the three professionals had conspired to force up their wages, they added the £50 allowance to Constantine’s contract. But the unpleasantness led to a falling-out between Constantine and Martindale. Peter Mason, in his 2008 biography of Constantine, relates:

“[Constantine] was not afraid of breaking up with valued friendships if necessary, as surviving correspondence between himself and his erstwhile West Indies bowling companion Manny Martindale attests. Martindale … had a bitter falling out with Constantine. This was partly over the fact that the former had appeared to use Constantine’s pay negotiations during the 1939 Test series to hold out for extra money himself, partly due to what Constantine perceived as Martindale’s easy-come-easy-go attitude to their friendship. The often vituperative correspondence, in which Constantine gave as good as he got, showed a hard-edged side to him that was rarely revealed.”

But any schism between Martindale and Constantine was not, as we shall see, long-lasting. Furthermore, such challenges to the ruling bodies of cricket were exceptionally rare at this time, and had never taken place in West Indies cricket before. That the three professionals were the undoubted winners can be established by a comparison to the wages for MCC tours; the English professionals who toured Australia on the Bodyline tour of 1932–33 received a basic wage of £400, although bonuses could raise this above £700 for the top performers. Similarly, the nominally amateur Australian team which toured England in 1930 were paid £600.

With his place on the tour settled, Martindale and his family remained in England over the winter of 1938–39; in fact, they did not return to Barbados until 1964. When snow fell that winter, the local press reported that Gillan Martindale and their three children were seeing it for the first time. Meanwhile, in the West Indies, a team was assembled after the usual trial matches. Alongside Martindale, who was to be the spearhead of the attack, the selectors included three other fast bowlers: Leslie Hylton of Jamaica, who had been devastating in the 1934–35 series; E. A. V. “Foffie” Williams, who had played alongside Martindale for Empire Cricket Club and for Barbados; and Tyrell Johnson of Trinidad. Constantine, in contrast to his first three tours of England, was now generally a medium-paced bowler with an occasional faster ball rather than a genuine fast bowler.

Martindale and Derek Sealey sign autographs during the 1939 tour of England (Image: Newcastle Chronicle, 15 July 1939)

However, the 1939 tour was a disappointing one for Martindale. He took just 34 first-class wickets at an average of 34.50, while in the three Test series that the West Indies lost 1–0, he took four wickets at 78.50. England easily won the first Test and were on top in the second, which was ruined by rain. Only in the third were the visitors able to give England a fright, and that was largely owing to a commanding batting performance. Any hopes the West Indies may have had of a repeat of the success of the pace strategy of 1934–35 were dashed by the poor returns of not only Martindale, but also Hylton (39 wickets at 27.71 in the first-class games but only three at 55.66 in the Tests), Williams (14 wickets, and only one Test match) and Johnson (16 wickets, and only one Test match). Williams and Johnson only appeared intermittently throughout the tour. Only Constantine, who took over 100 wickets, and the leg-spinner Bertie Clarke were consistently among the wickets.

As for Martindale, he began the tour quite well, but was a little expensive, and the wickets dried up as the season progressed. In the later games, he was only used sparingly. His only five-wicket return was five for 57 against Leicestershire. Nor did his batting success in league cricket translate to first-class level, and he averaged just 12.43 with the bat. The Wisden report on the tour was scathing: “Unlike Constantine, Martindale failed to profit by his experiences in English Saturday afternoon games. He did not approach his previous success on tour when, strangely enough, he took 103 wickets, the number claimed now by Constantine at smaller cost. Martindale fell off in pace and accuracy.” It is not clear what caused such a falling off; he was still only 29 and should have been near his peak. Part of the reason may have been a very wet season which hardly suited fast bowlers, but most observers concluded he was simply not as fast as he once was. In his autobiography Everything Under the Sun (1983), Jeff Stollmeyer — a very young member of the 1939 team , who recalled in his book that watching Martindale bowl to Bob Wyatt’s team in 1935 had “struck fear into me as a youngster of thirteen — but of Martindale on that tour he wrote: “His arm had ‘dropped’ after several seasons of bowling on slow wickets in the Lancashire League, and on this tour he was nothing more than the purveyor of rather gentle out swingers”. Maybe his effectiveness suffered from altering his style for Burnley. Or perhaps his lack of top-level cricket since early 1935 may have been an issue. Or he could simply have had a bad season.

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The 1939 West Indies team. Back row: W. Ferguson (scorer), G. Gomez, J. B. Stollmeyer, L. G. Hylton, T. Johnson, C. B. Clarke, H. P. Bayley, E. A. V. Williams. Middle row: G. Headley, I. Barrow, R. S. Grant (captain), J. M. Kidney (manager), J. H. Cameron, L. N. Constantine, E. A. Martindale. On floor: K. H. Weekes, J. E. D. Sealy, V. H. Stollmeyer.

Martindale played in the drawn Oval Test, but that was his final first-class game. With the Second World War imminent, the last matches of the tour were abandoned, and he never played another game at that level. Most of his team-mates departed for home. But he and Constantine had by then made a life in England; Martindale returned to Burnley, where he is recorded living with Gillan and their children on the 1939 Register. The family had expanded by then; their second daughter, Carol, was born in early 1939. She was followed by Monica Yvonne in 1942 and Pamela in 1944.

During the war, Martindale remained in England. He was not the only West Indies Test player in the country. Constantine began working for the Ministry of Labour, among other roles. Edwin St Hill also continued to live in England. He initially joined the army and, after being discharged, worked as a machinist. Ellis Achong played professional cricket in Lancashire. Bertie Clarke returned to study medicine in London. And throughout the war, all of them were in considerable demand as cricketers as the public looked for distractions from their troubles.

For the 1940 season, Martindale signed for Bingley in the Bradford League, one of the few places to offer professional cricket during the war. He was not alone; Constantine signed for Windhill Cricket Club (which had been a rumoured destination of both him and Martindale before war broke out) and many English professionals flocked to the League, making it the best place to see international cricketers playing competitively. Both Martindale and Constantine proved enormously popular and the matches between their two clubs were keenly contested. Martindale, who was paid less than Constantine, managed to secure local sponsorship, and his photograph advertised “Sharples Warehouse” in Bingley. On the field, he scored 449 runs at 24.00 — which included an undefeated century against Bowling Old Lane; with the ball, he took 59 wickets at 12.62, finishing seventh — one place behind Constantine — in the league averages. But he proved enormously popular with the club.

Martindale remained with Bingley in 1941, returning similar figures with the ball — 60 wickets at 12.75, 17th in the averages — but falling off with the bat, scoring 260 runs at 16.25. His wage demands caused a few financial problems for his club, and they decided not to renew his contract for the following season. However, he remained in the Bradford League, signing for Keighley for 1942. His 69 wickets at 9.79 played a large part in the club securing promotion to the “A” Division at the end of the season. He remained there in 1943, taking 73 wickets at 10.47 but averaging under 5 with the bat.

For 1944, Martindale left Bradford, moving to Radcliffe in the Central Lancashire League; Constantine also joined that league, playing for Crompton. It is not impossible that they chose to move together, indicating that any issues over the 1939 tour had long been resolved. Martindale took 71 wickets at 8.67 (10th in the averages) and scored 236 runs at 13.88. Radcliffe won the league, remaining unbeaten all season. He re-signed with the club for 1945 and despite what The Cricketer called a slow start to his season, took 68 wickets at 10.08 (although Radcliffe fell to fifth in the league).

The “Dominions” team which played at Lord’s in 1943; Martindale stands second from the left on the back row. His team-mates included D. P. B. Morkel, the former South African Test player (fourth from the right, back row); Keith Miller who played for Australia after the war (third from the right, back row); and the former New Zealand batsman C. S. Dempster (second from right, front row). Also in the team were his West Indies team-mates C. B. Clarke (second from right, back row) and Learie Constantine (far left, front row). (Image: Australian War Memorial)

If Martindale’s average looks impressive during the war, it was perhaps helped by impact of so many men being away on national service. The quality of league cricket doubtlessly suffered as the war progressed, which may explain how Martindale was able to return such spectacular figures. Perhaps more representative of his ability at this stage of his career was his record in the numerous wartime charity matches played between 1940 and 1945. He played frequently for “West Indies” or “Empire” teams, usually alongside many of his former Test team-mates. For “West Indies” teams, usually against high-profile opposition, he averaged over 40 with the ball; in all wartime charity games, he averaged around 22. In many games, he played alongside Learie Constantine, another indication that the two had made friends again, and Martindale was part of the latter’s team which toured Scotland in both 1945 and 1946. Other frequent team-mates included Edwin St Hill, Achong and Clarke.

In 1946, Martindale returned to the Bradford League, where he joined the now-amateur Constantine at Windhill, heading the league averages with 56 wickets at 9.80. He was the best-paid player in the league that season. This was not the only time the pair were associated; as Richard Bentley writes in A War to the Knife (2019): “Clearly relations improved … because Martindale worked for a short stint with Learie Constantine in the managing of a hostel in Bolton, before working as a supervisor at Lucas’ Electrical in Lancashire.”

In August 1946, Martindale agreed a return to the Lancashire League when he signed a two-year deal with Lowerhouse, to begin in the 1947 season, when he would be 37 years old. In reporting the signing of his contract at his home in Burnley, the Burnley Express stated that his salary — which was not revealed — was to be the highest ever given to a Lowerhouse professional. There was some confusion at Windhill, the secretary of whom revealed to a Bradford Observer journalist that he knew nothing of any such deal.

Despite his age, Martindale had an extraordinarily good season at Lowerhouse, using his years of experience of league cricket to great effect. With the ball, he took 106 wickets at 10.16 — his best total and average in the Lancashire League — and scored 532 runs at 24.18. He was third in the league bowling averages, with the second highest wicket total, and 28th in batting. Lowerhouse played Burnley, Martindale’s old club, three times that season; in each game he took six wickets. Although Lowerhouse only finished sixth, their season was very good: they recorded a record profit of £583 and at the annual meeting, the president, T. Redman, reflected on how well the club had recovered from being on the brink of financial collapse in 1933 — incidentally, the last time they had a West Indian professional (Edwin St Hill). Redman also enthused about Martindale’s role, calling him a “grand fellow” who had not given the club any trouble. Presenting the prizes at the same meeting, Martindale in turn offered his own praise, expressing pleasure at the playing and financial results of the season, modestly playing down his own achievements, and said that he had enjoyed his season with Lowerhouse more than that with any other club: “When we have done well we have been pleased, and when we have lost we have pulled each other’s leg. Altogether we have been one happy family.”

Martindale may have been telling the truth rather than simply being polite, because something about Lowerhouse continued to bring out the best in him. Although the club dropped to ninth in 1947, his own form — although falling away slightly from the very high peak of the previous season — was good. He scored 447 runs at 21.28 (25th in the batting averages) and took 83 wickets at 13.63 (15th in the bowling averages). Consequently, he signed a two-year extension on his contract; he also was engaged for two hours per week coaching pupils of Burnley Grammar School. He had another excellent season in 1949, scoring 589 runs at 23.56 (27th) and taking 85 wickets at 11.94 (6th). Martindale was now a distinct bridge between two eras; as a pre-war Test player, he now bowled at post-war stars including Everton Weekes and Vijay Hazare. To his credit, he continued to perform well against such cricketers; for example, he trapped Hazare lbw for 17 in one match and bowled Weekes for 5 in another. But Lowerhouse remained in ninth position.

His final season with Lowerhouse was 1950, by which time he was 40 years old. He took just 33 wickets at 21.33 (37th) and scored 532 runs at 38.00 (11th). The team were joint-eleventh and chose not to renew Martindale’s contract, instead signing another West Indian, Roy Marshall, as his replacement. For Lowerhouse, Martindale had scored 2,100 runs at 25.60 and taken 307 wickets at 12.79; in 2021, he remains 12th on the list of leading wicket-takers for Lowerhouse.

Martindale presented the prizes at a ceremony for the Burnley and District Sunday School Cricket League in 1954 (Image: Burnley Express, 16 October 1954)

But Martindale was not quite finished, and he returned to the Bradford League. He signed for Keighley in a dual role as professional and coach for 1951, and his 56 wickets at 14.28 helped the club to win the Second Division title. He was also able to use his influence to encourage several of the 1950 West Indies team to play a challenge match against his team.

But Keighley decided to become an all-amateur club over the winter of 1951–52 — mainly for financial reasons as they could not afford to re-sign Martindale — and so Martindale headed to the North Staffordshire Cricket League, something of a step down in terms of cricketing prestige. Keighley reversed their decision before the 1952 season, singing a cheaper professional, which may suggest that their change of policy was only temporary in order to remove Martindale’s wages from their books. Martindale, meanwhile, played for Norton from 1952 to 1954. In 1953, his 82 wickets at 9.60 and 394 runs at 28.10 (the best all-round record in the competition) helped the team to the league title. He also appeared once in the Worsley Cup for Lowerhouse in 1953, playing as an amateur; although this was only a one-off, it was possible because he still lived in Burnley and the mid-week Worsley Cup games did not clash with his professional commitments at the weekend. While his figures were rarely spectacular at Norton, he continued to hold his own at that level. In 1954, he scored 312 runs at 20.80 and took 43 wickets at 15.00.

Despite his clearly fading powers, Martindale had one final season in the Lancashire League when Bacup signed him as a replacement for the unavailable Everton Weekes. The gamble was unsuccessful and his record was poor: he scored 342 runs at 16.28 and took 46 wickets at 20.34. That was the end of Martindale’s career at the top level of league cricket, but his record in the Lancashire League is impressive: he played a total of 200 league matches in his three spells as a professional, scoring 4,274 runs at 24.99 and taking 573 wickets at 13.99.

After this, although Martindale remained a professional cricketer, he becomes harder to trace as he moved to more obscure leagues. He certainly continued to play; for example, we know that he had two seasons for Great Harwood in the Ribblesdale League in 1962 and 1963. And throughout this period, he remained living in Burnley where his children were raised and went to school. For example, Carole and Norma attended Burnley Wood Modern Secondary School and received some newspaper coverage when both won sports awards in 1952.

The Lowerhouse team receive the cup for winning the inaugural “A” team competition in 1949. Fred and Colin Martindale are part of the group (Image: via Lowerhouse Cricket Club)

Meanwhile, Martindale’s two sons had followed him in playing cricket for Lowerhouse. Both were involved in the inaugural “A” team competition for Lancashire League teams in 1949, and soon began to feature in the first team. Alfred (known as Fred) played for Lowerhouse as an amateur from 1949 until 1958 before moving to Burnley, where he played until 1965. He was a batsman, averaging 13.71 across his career, with one century. Colin played for Lowerhouse between 1950 and 1958 before he too moved to Burnley, for whom he played until 1964. He averaged 10.41 with the bat and 30.86 with the ball. As this overlapped with their father’s career at Lowerhouse, Fred appeared alongside him several times in 1949 and 1950. In one 1950 game against Haslingden, both sons played with their father. Neither showed any inclination to turn professional and, encouraged by their father, pursued other careers: Fred became a solicitor and Colin a teacher. Carole and Yvonne also became teachers, the latter moving to Barbados in the early 1960s to continue her career. Pamela became a secretary.

By 1964, Martindale’s playing career was at an end. That year, he and his wife returned to live in Barbados, having spent 28 years in Burnley. But he continued to be involved in sport; he worked for two years as a coach in Bermuda and then with the Barbados Government Sports Department. He also managed the Barbados National Stadium. But the most important thing for him in these years was his family. In A War to the Knife, Richard Bentley includes the memories of Martindale’s grandson Roger:

“[Roger] lived with his grandfather in Barbados and vividly remembers his grandfather taking him to the Merrivale Preparatory School, located at Pine Road, Belleville, St. Michael. Roger describes his grandparents as being ‘inseparable’ and ‘living for each other and their six children.’”

When Gillan died in December 1971, aged just 61, it must have hit Martindale hard. He never really recovered, and he died four months later in March 1972 at the St Joseph Mercy Hospital in St Peter, Barbados.

At the time of his death, and for some time after, Martindale was remembered for his contributions to the early history of the West Indies cricket team. But if he was discussed in newspapers quite regularly, and if old-timers still talked about him, his move to England, and his long-term success in league cricket there was often overlooked. The bravery of him and Gillan in building a life for themselves in a foreign country was rarely mentioned.

However, it is doubtless in the international arena that he made the greatest impact, and in many ways he was the prototype — alongside Constantine, Griffith and Francis, albeit more successfully than any of these — for the West Indies pace bowlers who dominated world cricket for over sixty years after his last Test. And descriptions of him suggest that he would not have been out of place in any of the famous bowling attacks. His technique appears to have been quite modern, from “the fashionable West Indian jump in the middle of [his run]” reported by “Second Slip” in The Cricketer in 1933 to the longer description by “Old Ebor” in the Yorkshire Evening Post during the same season:

“[Martindale] has a long but smooth run, and delivers the ball with a concentration of energy which suggests that bowling is real delight to him, whatever it may be to the man at the wicket. He could make the ball rise just that uncomfortable height that made the batsman play it whether he liked it or not. There were short pitched ones, but none that a skilled and experienced batsman would not have been able to deal with.”

Had he played more regularly, had the West Indies been given more Test matches in the 1930s, and had he maintained the form he showed in his first two series, Martindale would have had exceptional statistics. As it is, we have to base our judgements on the little cricket he could play. And there is no question that Martindale was one of the best bowlers in the world during his brief time at the top, and almost certainly the fastest. Where this places him in the line-up of great West Indian bowlers is an open question. He should certainly be part of the conversation, but after so many years, he has been forgotten. Of all those to fade from the memory in this way, Martindale — perhaps more than most — deserves rediscovery.