Category Archives: Lin(d)field History
Reflections from the President
In my early researches about the geographical and cultural origins of the Linfields, knowing that we were probably associated with the growing of flax, I wrote to the Linfield Football and Athletic Club, of Windsor Park, Donegall Avenue, Belfast, N. Ireland enquiring if there were any family connections. No link was established. However, since then Linfield Athletic have published ‘LINFIELD- 100 YEARS’ by Malcolm Brodie (1985) which describes its first hundred years since its foundation in March 1886. The following extracts are of interest and show that there are a number of associations with our ancient family name:
“There is no other football club in Ireland quite like Linfield. They are loved and hated. Loved by thousands of fans – some of whom have had their ashes scattered at Windsor Park while others were buried in their Linfield regalia. Hated down the years by the opposition for an implacable enmity, a fierce and relentless sporting rivalry has always existed between Linfield and all other teams.“
“The tradition of Linfield hits you the moment you step through the turnstiles or into the dressing and boardrooms at Windsor. They are a big club who never permit themselves to be parochial in outlook although they jealously guard their rights. Dignity and dedication are two essentials to being a Linfield player or official.”
“It is the proud boast of many Linfield fans that theirs is the bluest of the blue. It is a club with a distinctly Protestant following but, in answer to often-repeated criticism that they don’t play Roman Catholics, club officials point out there is nothing in the rules to prevent this. In fact, many of the distinguished players in the past have been Roman Catholics . . .”
“Everyone wants to triumph over the Blues. “I don’t care who wins so long as Linfield are beaten”, is a comment frequently heard. That has not happened too often for a search of the records reveals few seasons in which Linfield didn’t win a trophy nor have they ever applied for re-election to the Irish League. Supporters look upon success as commonplace and that is the way it has been down the years . . .”
“Everyone owes a supreme allegiance to Linfield but, through the club, they have helped by positive thinking to ensure Northern Ireland football marches on. Another century approaches and no doubt during it the name of Linfield will be in the forefront as it has been since that day in 1886 when the club was conceived in a linen mill . . .”
It was in the latter part of 1885 “that Bob McClurg, an employee in the Linfield mill of the Ulster Spinning Company, led a deputation . . . to ask directors permission to form a team and to use the ground at the back of the mill called “The Meadow”. This was granted and the company even offered the facilities of the dining hall where they had first discussed the prospects of setting up the club.”
“So in March 1886, the club, known as Linfield Athletic, was officially founded; it was decided to limit team membership to employees but it soon became evident that if success was to be attained, the doors had to be opened to all-comers. Therefore six outsiders were welcomed simply because they strengthened the side . . .”
“Throughout the summer of 1886 players trained assidiously, even during lunchbreaks. All wanted to play for Linfield, to be founder members. In the opening match against Distillery . . . Linfield won 6-5 . . . Distillery, already well established, had a highly competent side led by Matthew Wilson who was amazed at the performance of Linfield, nicknamed by the workers as ‘The Sprinters’. “You staggered us . . . we expected to beat a junior side”, he told committee members. That victory established the name of Linfield . .”
During the last few months, I have begun research into the life of George Hayler Linfield who left the SullingtonStorringtonWashington area in the early 1840s and worked for many years as a gardener at Brenchley, near Paddock Wood in Kent. He was one of the grandsons of Peter Linfield, the butcher of Storrington (see Longshot, Vol 2 No 1, May 1993 p. 10). I visited Brenchley for the first time earlier this year and I hope to go again in the Autumn. It’s a beautiful little village with a splendid view of the surrounding countryside from Castle Hill. The following is taken from our database and gives his family history in outline:
GEORGE HAYLER LINFIELD born abt. 1816, Sullington, occupation Gardener, married before 1844 in Brenchley, Kent, Anne born abt. 1812 Brenchley, Kent, living 1891, Castle Hill, Brenchley. George died 1892 (reg.Tonbridge). Anne shown in CR91 as aged 79, bn. Brenchley.
Children:
Bertha Hayler Linfield, b. 1844.
Elizabeth Ann Linfield, b. 1846. Occupation: School Matron in CR 1891.
Emma Josephine Linfield, b. 1848. Occupation: Cook domestic, living 1891 at Castle Hill, Brenchley.
Bertha married (i) Thomas Whibley, 21 Nov 1868 at Brenchley (ii) —– Hannaford, before 1920.
Database outlines such as the above give the basic information for my current research. My daughter, Janet Anderson (nee Linfield) lives at Larkfield, Kent about 10 miles from Brenchley.
Finally, a personal memory of my early respect for William Henry Borrer, the famous botanist, of Barrow Hill, Henfield. My family have always been great tree lovers and we valued the grandeur of the cedar trees planted in the little plantation on the left at the top of Barrow Hill. On the flint wall the Borrer family had placed a plaque saying the trees were planted with seed from Lebanon in 1843. I passed these trees every school day for the three years that I attended Henfield Boys (CE) Elementary School, 1928-31 before I began my grammar school education as a rural scholarship boy at Steyning, and often collected pine cones there. I was, of course, completely unaware then of the Borrer/Lindfield connection: William Borrer’s mother was Mary Lindfield (1758-1813), daughter and heir to Nathaniel Lindfield, owner of Pickwell in Cuckfield, which she brought by marriage in 1780 to William Borrer of Pakyns Manor in Hurstpierpoint. William Borrer, botanist, was born on June 13 1781. He died on January 10 1862. The following extract comes from The Story of Henfield by Henry de Candole, Vicar of Henfield (Cambridges, Hove, 1947):
On the upper slope of Barrow Hill, a “new mansion was built by his father for William Borrer the third, a great name in the Henfield of the 19th century. The Borrer family owned, and still own, Pakyns Manor in Hurstpierpoint bought by William Borrer the first in 1783. His son, William Borrer II, was High Sheriff of the county, raised a troop of Horse for defence against Napoleon, and is described as having proved “a very successful caterer for the needs of the crowds of men and horses assembled in Sussex” at the time of the Napoleonic scare. He already had connections with Henfield, and his son, William Borrer III, was born and baptised here in 1781 and showed his devotion to the place during a long life as a generous benefactor to the Church, Schools and village, and an originator of many schemes for their welfare. But his fame was more than local, for he was one of the leading botanists of his time, and a Fellow of the Royal Society. Tradition tells of a letter sent to him, and safely delivered, as “that illustrious man Wm. Borrer, England.” In particular, he was an authority on the plants of his own county and parish as the frequency of allusions to Henfield in the recent ‘Sussex Flora’ by Wolley-Dod (1937) amply testifies. “As soon as he had a home of his own,” we are told, “he betook himself to gardening, and amassed one of the best collections of plants ever grown in the English climate.” The garden at Barrow Hill was indeed famous; in 1860 his gardener made a list of over 6600 plants, the most remarkable of which were given at his death to Kew Gardens. Others of his family shared his interests, and are responsible for the red oaks, and for the cedars brought from Lebanon in 1843 and flourishing opposite Spring Hills. His eldest son William Borrer IV of Cowfold became an authority on ornithology and wrote ‘The Birds of Sussex’, in which may be found his startling record of having once seen no less than 14 golden orioles on a single bush on Henfield Common. But the glories of Barrow Hill are past; the house has been deserted since the death of Borrer’s granddaughter, and the once lovely garden is now, alas! a tangled wilderness.”
The last connection of the Lindfields with the Borrers was in the last century when Mr Lindfield Borrer still lived at Barrow Hill.
Edmund Linfield of Storrington, Clockmaker
I was most interested to read in Sussex Life of the recent purchase by the Horsham Museum Society of a long case clock which was made by Edmund Linfield of Storrington. The article, which I saw in the June issue, also states that “very little” is known about Edmund. It continues: “He may have been a journeyman clock maker visiting Storrington for a year or so, making one or two clocks for local families. Or he may have lived in the town and worked at other trades. These and other questions will be answered after the Museum staff and volunteers have researched this interesting and elusive clock maker.” Since Eric, Alan and myself are all members of the Horsham Museum Society, I was somewhat surprised that nobody from the organisaton had bothered to contact us, so I sent them a letter giving details of all the information we presently have about this “elusive” clockmaker. I have been intending for some time to write an article about Edmund, so what follows is based upon the information I sent them.
Edmund was baptised at Thakeham Church on 14 October 1722, the younger son of William and Jane Linfield. William was a husbandman in the parish and married Jane Hooker at Fittleworth on 17 June 1711. Baptised at Itchingfield in 1683, William was the eldest child of George Linfield and Elizabeth Stringer of Shipley, who were married on 15 May 1681. Although I have not yet found their marriage entry in any of the local parish registers, Edmund married Mary Richardson in about 1750. The earliest Storrington reference to Edmund takes place on 8 November 1753 with the christening of his daughter Ann. In the parish register he is referred to as a “clocksmith” so his business was presumably established in the village at around this time. Undoubtedly, this must have been his main occupation although he would have worked at other trades related to his craft. He probably made all his clocks to order, whilst the cases would have been made by a local carpenter to the specific requirements of the customer. All his children by Mary were christened in Storrington, namely Ann (1753), Elizabeth (1757), James (1759), Sarah (1761), Richard (1763) and Catherine (1766).
Extracts from the Thakeham Manor Court Book (add. Ms. 2298) for 1755 refer to a cottage with acre of land at South Common in Thakeham. This property was eventually to revert to “Mary the wife of Edmund Linfield (clockmaker)” daughter of Richard Richardson, after “the deaths of Samuel Richardson & the said Richard Richardson the father.”
My own research into the life of Edmund Linfield was originally motivated after I first saw one of his clocks, which belongs to a cousin. I have also subsequently corresponded with a lady who has another, quite different, example of his workmanship and I have heard of at least one other clock in Sussex. Although I have not seen the clock at Horsham Museum, I shall describe the two clocks I am familiar with since it will be interesting later to see how they compare. I believe the basic product of the Sussex maker was the thirty-hour longcase clock, earlier made with a single hand but after the mid 18th century with two hands. My cousin’s clock has a brass face, with a chapter ring which shows Roman numerals for each hour and a minute band marked at every fifth unit (see illustration and front cover). The word “LINFIELD” is engaved in plain capital letters; beneath, more artistically executed, is a flowery “STORRINGTON”. The minute band is placed around the outer edge of the dial. This clock is therefore a classic example of a two handed 30 hour longcase clock. There is also a clue to the year of its manufacture: the year 1761 is pencilled inside the door of the case. I would imagine that it may be engraved on the workings, possibly with Edmund’s signature, and that whoever pencilled in the date may have found it whilst carrying out renovation work. Its year of manufacture, 1761, was at a time when the majority of 30 hour clocks were two handed; whereas, twenty years earlier, most would have been single handers.
London was the main centre of clockmaking until the mid-18th century, and most of the clocks produced there were 8 day clocks. Interestingly, the 30 hour and 8 day clocks were available from the same time, although the 8 day types were the most popular. The dial consisted of several parts – the dial sheet, corner-pieces or spandrels- attached by a screw – and a main chapter ring carrying the numbers. The most obvious difference between the 30 hour and 8 day clocks is the presence of two winding holes on the latter, since 30 hour clocks do not wind with a key. This is not to deny, of course, that there are exceptions: some people liked to give the impression that they possessed an 8 day clock by positioning “dummy” winding holes on the dial of their 30 hour clock. They also provided a decorative effect to improve the appearance of an over-plain centre, whilst at the same time following the fashion of the capital.
The numbers or chapter ring was a separately cast brass disc onto which the hours and minutes were engraved. It was usually silvered over to enhance the appearance of the numbers, but my cousin’s clock shows no sign of silvering as, in most cases, it has been polished away over the centuries. It is, however, a legitimate restoration technique to resilver the dial by using a paste of silver chloride.
The other Edmund Linfield clock I have come across has some interesting differences. Unfortunately, I have not actually seen it, but I do have a photograph of the clock face as well as some descriptive information from my correspondent. It has a brass dial with the engaved words “LINFIELD, STORRINGTON” in two scrolls. Although the clock has two hands, there are no minutes marked at all, but simply Roman hour numerals, and between them only four spaces instead of five on the inner chapter ring edge. This is very interesting since it suggests that the clock was originally single-handed; the four spaces represented quarter-hour units, to provide clarity of time to the nearest quarter-hour. However, there are also two winding holes in the clock face, which complicates matters somewhat since it would appear to be an 8 day clock – which, according to clock expert Brian Loomes, were always made with two hands! Some single handed 8 day clocks do exist, but they are apparently very rare indeed. What it suggests, of course, is that this particular clock was originally a single handed 30 hour clock which was later fitted with an 8 day movement and an extra hand. There are other reasons for supporting this view: for instance, most 8 day clocks also had a seconds dial, whilst 30 hour clocks did not. This clock has no seconds dial.
Such alterations were probably quite common, and were usually carried out when excessive wear had become a problem. In the case of 30 hour clocks, it was understandably preferable to replace the movement completely and, for the sake of convenience, with an 8 day movement. But it also meant cutting winding holes in the face of the clock, which may have rough edges and no ringing like many original brass dial 8 day clocks. My correspondent also indicated that she thought the case was not the original; the case on my cousin’s clock is very plain and was probably known as a “cottage clock”, judging by its simple oak case which would have been made to order by a local carpenter. It was therefore destined for a more modest household than the much more elaborate and expensive mahogany cases favoured by the rich.
The following family tree should help to clarify what we already know about Edmund. He was born in 1722, and died at Storrington in 1799 at the age of 77. His first wife, Mary Richardson, by whom he had six children, died in 1772. Two years later he married his second wife, Sarah Boniface at West Grinstead on June 25 1774, by whom he had a son, Richard, baptised in 1779.
In a previous article in Longshot (Vol 2 No 1, May 1993), I wrote about the prosperous butcher, Peter Linfield of Storrington, who moved to the village from West Chiltington in 1779 and lived there until his death in 1791. In his inventory, he is shown as owning two grandfather clocks, and it is tempting to imagine that he bought them from his distant kinsman of Storrington, Edmund. As an interesting observation, although they both had businesses in the same village, their fortunes ran in opposite directions: whilst Peter thrived, and his business grew from strength to strength, Edmund’s eventually failed, and what the family tree fails to show, is that when he died in 1799, Edmund was sadly a pauper. However, although we have no firm evidence, there is a possible clue in the family tree.

Family Tree of Edmund Linfield, 1722-1799
It is interesting to note that Edmund’s three sons all predeceased him. The eldest, James died in 1791 at the age of 31 or 32, and he may well have helped his father in the business with the eventual prospect of taking it over. Increasing infirmity probably precluded Edmund from continuing with his clockmaking skills, but the premature death of his son would have finished the business completely since there was nobody else to take over. In such circumstances, without any means of support, he ended his days in the local poor house. Such a scenario may well describe the situation which developed. We still need to find out what happened to his wife, since there is no record of her burial in the Storrington parish registers.
I wonder how many clocks Edmund made during his career. Assuming he probably worked at least 40 years, and he finished a clock every two weeks (the usual time taken to complete a clock), the maximum he could have completed during his lifetime would be 1000. However, taking into account possible vagaries in demand – which he must have experienced in a small Sussex village – and the fact that he probably made all his clocks to order, the final total would have been much lower – probably less than half this amount. In order to make a living, he would have found it necessary to supplement his income by other means; perhaps he also repaired and serviced local clocks, for example. But in the end it was either incapacity or a serious decline in the demand for his clocks which destroyed his business and forced him into the workhouse. It may well be that he failed to adapt to changing fashions, such as the introduction of the white dial which began in 1772, although the majority began from about 1780. However, by 1790 most longcase clocks had white dials. For someone who had been making brass dial clocks since 1750 or thereabouts, it would have been a very difficult process to adapt to the new technology, particularly as there were a number of impediments involved. In remote rural Sussex, Edmund may have failed completely to realise that fashions were changing.
References Loomes, Brian The Concise Guide to British Clocks (Barrie & Jenkins Ltd, 1992) Tyler, E J The Clockmakers of Sussex (Watch & Clock Book Society, 1986)
More Service Records
In Longshot Vol 5 number 2, we published a list of the records we have found of military service by Lin(d)fields. We now have a complete listing from the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, which gives some further details, and in some cases these have allowed us to establish the identities and family connections. The listing also includes a number of war graves of which we were previously unaware.
The first was mentioned in the earlier article:
Royal Sussex Regiment, deaths in 1914-18 War
LINFIELD, William Ernest, private, SD/5183, 12th Bn, died 30 June 1916, buried Loos, reference MR19. Database number #13932. We now have the name of his mother from the War Grave details, together with his age. He was 20 when he died and his mother is shown as Mrs Harriett Linfield of 2 Spring Villas, Lyminster, Littlehampton. This allows us to connect him as follows:
| 1. Christopher LINFIELD #909 born 3 Nov 1850, Washington, Sussex (Reg: Thakeham), ref: opcs/b vii529, occupation Farmer & contractor, married 25 Sep 1880, marr ref: opcs/m 2b553, Thakeham, Sussex, England, Harriet FRANCES #910, born abt 1859, died 1937, Toddington. Christopher died 26 Dec 1916, Spring Villas, Lyminster, living: 1851, Washington, Sussex. Poss same as #1771. No Christopher or Harry/Henry in opcs/b for 1848. Prev entered as #13869 from opcs/b. Shown in CR51 as aged 5m, bn Washington [1851 Index SFHG, fo 262] Said to have 11 children, known as Harry, occupation farm carter, according to letter to Eric from Christopher and Eva Linfield September 1973. Family moved from Warminghurst to Billingshurst after Harriett was born but before she started school in 1891. From there they moved to Houghton Bridge near Amberley, and from there to Thakeham where they lived in Thakeham St. They were still there when Harriett left school in 1899/1900. They moved subsequently to Lyminster. | ||
| Children | ||
| i | Elizabeth LINFIELD #4433 born q1—1881, (Reg: Thakeham), ref: opcs/b 2b366, married Steve JANMAN #15498. Prev entered as #4129 from opcs/b. | |
| ii | Harry LINFIELD #4429 born 1 Jul 1882. | |
| iii | Christopher LINFIELD #911 born q4—1883, Toddington, ref: opcs/b 2b350, occupation Farmer & contractor, married q2—1915, in Toddington, marr ref: opcs/m 2b1003, East Preston, Sussex, Ellen LUCKIN #912, born 1880, Toddington, died 1958, Toddington. Christopher died 1951, Toddington. No children [Letter to Eric from Christopher and Eva Linfield September 1973] Birth given as 1883 on info from Colin Mainstone; 1884 by W F Daggett. Prev entered also as #4471 from opcs/b. Birth place given as Toddington by W F Daggett, Thakeham by K Joan Puttock, letter July 1995. Marriage prev shown as 1917. | |
| iv | Fanny LINFIELD #4499 born ?? Jun 1885, Thakeham, Sussex, England, ref: opcs/b 2b334, married Harry HAMMOND #15499. Birth reg Q3 1885. | |
| Harry: Speeling prev shown as HAMMAND. | ||
| v | Harriett LINFIELD #4434 born 21 Jul 1886. | |
| vi | Annie LINFIELD #3160 born q3—1888, Thakeham, Sussex, England, ref: opcs/b 2b321. OPCS ref poss incorrect – same as #3162 Annie listed by Colin Mainstone; shown as md to Ernest GILLETT. Letter to Eric from Christopher and Eva Linfield September 1973 shows Nancy. K Joan Puttock, letter July 1995 shows Nance, christened Annie or Nancy and bn abt 1887/8. Two opcs/b entries for Annie in 1888; see also #3168. | |
| vii | Annie Linfield #3168 born q4—1888, Thakeham, Sussex, England, ref: opcs/b 2b342. Two opcs/b entries for Annie in 1888; see also #3160. | |
| viii | Emily LINFIELD #4437 born abt 1888, Lyminster, Littlehampton, married q2—1919, marr ref: opcs/m 2b1069, East Preston, Sussex, William WYATT #15501, born abt 1888. Emily died Littlehampton, Sussex. Shown as Emm on info from Colin Mainstone. Only opcs/b refs Thakeham are in 1881 #4130 and 1890 #4547. Ref for latter is 2b309 Q4 1890. | |
| ix | Kate LINFIELD #4438 born q4—1893, Lyminster, Littlehampton (Reg: Thakeham), bp. 31 Dec 1994, Billingshurst, Sussex, ref: opcs/b 2b327, married q1—1917, marr ref: opcs/m 2b595, East Preston, Sussex, Frederick MUNDAY #15500, born abt 1890. Kate died Australia, living: 1915/16?, 96 Shirland Rd, Maida Vale, West London?. Poss same as #1706 bp Billingshurst 31 Dec 1894. Name given as Kit by Colin Mainstone. Most likely opcs/b ref is Kate LINFIELD Q4 1893 2b327 #14091. Poss the Miss Kate LINFIELD at 96 Shirland Rd, Maida Vale, W London in 1915/6, recipient of postcard from Rifleman Will EDWARDS, Hut L30, D Coy 3rd Bn London Irish Rifles, Morn Hill Camp, Winchester. [Postcard, date unclear 1915/16] | |
| Frederick: Spelling is MUNDY in opcs/m. | ||
| x | Mary LINFIELD #14081 born q2—1892, Thakeham, Sussex, England, ref: opcs/b 2b342, died q4—1892, Thakeham, Sussex, England. Death ref opcs/d 2b229; age given as 0. | |
| xi | William Ernest LINDFIELD #13932 born q2—1896, Houghton Bridge, Amberley (Reg Thakeham), ref: opcs/b 2b338, occupation Private Soldier, died 30 Jun 1916, France, buried: Loos Memorial, Pas de Calais. Died in WW1, aged 18-19 [K Joan Puttock, letter July 1995] Shown as Wm Ernest LINFIELD, private, SD/5183. 12th Bn., Royal Sussex regt. Died 30 June 1916, age 20. S of Mrs Harriett L, 2 Spring Villas, Lyminster. [Casualty Listing from Commonwealth War Graves Commission 20 March 1997.] | |
| xii | Frederick George LINFIELD #14463 born q3—1898. | |
| xiii | Alfred James LINFIELD #14139 born q2—1901, East Preston, Sussex, ref: opcs/b 2b353. No children [Letter to Eric from Christopher and Eva Linfield September 1973] | |
Another one from the previous article was Gunner William Lindfield of Horsham:
Basra Memorial – Iraq
In the previous article we listed LINDFIELD William, gunner, Royal Artillery, number 15420. Shown as born and enlisted at Horsham, died 10 July 1916, in Mesopotamia.(Ref. 1) In this case we also now have the location of the memorial and the parents and age of the soldier. He is shown on the Basra Memorial as follows:
LINDFIELD, Gunner, William, 57420. 20th Bty. Royal Field Artillery. Drowned in the Tigris 10th July 1916. Age 30. Son of William and Rebecca Lindfield of 4 Mill Lane, Lower Beeding, Horsham, Sussex. [#4159 in database].
Inscriptions on the Menin Gate, Ypres
We now find that there are in fact 2 soldiers listed on the Menin Gate which lists soldiers killed at Ypres but with no known grave. The first is shown as Private John LINFIELD, 1454, of the 16th (The Queen’s) Lancers, who died on 21st October 1914. As yet, we have not identified him, and would obviously be grateful if any member can help us to do so.
The second was Rifleman Percy LINFIELD, S/11733 of the 7th Bn. Rifle Brigade. He is shown as aged 26 when he died on 7th July 1915 and is shown as the son of Thomas and Sara Lindfield of 209 High St, Tooting, London. His birth was registered in the second quarter of 1889, but as yet we have no further details of his parents. We may find some useful clues in the 1881 census.
Kemmel Chateau Military Cemetery, Belgium
LINFIELD, Private, Percy Frank, G/16044, “B” Coy. 13th Bn. Royal Sussex Regiment. Killed in enemy air raid 15th October 1917. Age 31. Son of John and Friend Linfield, of Storrington; husband of Esther Barbara Linfield, of White Horse Yard, Storrington, nr Pulborough, Sussex. O.8. [#2092 in database].
Abbeville Communal Cemetery Extension – Somme
LINFIELD, Private, Albert David John, 6403197. 7th Bn. Royal Sussex Regiment. 26th May 1940. Age 22. Son of Charles Albert and Emily Maria Linfield, of Chichester, Sussex; husband of Mary Campbell Linfield, of Chichester. Plot 9. Row D. Grave 16. [#5383 in database].
Beaumont-Hamel (Newfoundland) Memorial – Somme
LINFIELD, Private, Roland, 2543. Royal Newfoundland Regt. Killed in action near Marcoing 20 November 1917. Son of Alfred G Linfield of Loon Bay, Notre Dame Bay, Newfoundland. [#9431 in database].
Croisilles British Cemetery – Pas de Calais
LINFIELD, Private, Fredrick (sic), 12648. 2nd BN. The Queen’s (Royal West Surrey Regt.) 2nd April 1917. Age 30. Son of George and K Linfield, of Wakeland’s Farm Cottage, Moor Lane, Ringmer, Sussex. Born at Henfield. IV. C. 30. [#1857 in database].
Pozieres Memorial – Somme
LINGFIELD, Private, William James, 125255. 16th Bn. Machine Gun Corps (Inf). 4th April 1918. Age 30. Son of William James Lingfield; husband of the late Charlotte Lingfield. As yet, I have not been able to identify this family.
In the earlier article we showed the death of Private William Denn LINFIELD as 5th May 1918, from the information obtained from the Regimental records. The CWGC records, however, have the date as 5th April.
Regina Trench Cemetery – Somme
LINFIELD, Private, George Frank, 4640. 7th BN. Queen’s Own (Royal West Kent Regiment). 19th November 1916. Age 20. Son of Ephraim and Mary Ann Linfield, of Groombridge, Kent. V.F.3. [#1537 in database].
Villers-Bretonneux Military Cemetery – Somme
LINFIELD, Private E, G/15944. 13th Bn. Royal Sussex Regiment. 29th March 1918. VI.F.6. At this stage, we are unable to identify this man, having no address or first name or other clues. If any readers can help, we would be grateful.
Khayat Beach War Cemetery – Israel
LINFIELD, Able Seaman, Albert, P/SSX19714. HMS Janus, Royal Navy. 9th June 1941. Son of David Peter and Annie Linfield, of West Horsham, Sussex. A.D.7. [#14282 in database].
Bergen-op-Zoom Canadian War Cemetery – Netherlands
LINFIELD, Private, Frederick Alexander, M/105560. Lincoln and Welland Regiment, R.C.I.C, 24th October 1944. 2.B.9. [#18602 in database]. It seems likely that he died during operations to recapture the Scheldt estuary, in which Canadian forces played a major part.(Ref. 2) We have yet to establish where he was born and when, and which branch he belongs to.
Rawalpindi War Cemetery – Pakistan
LINFIELD, Private, Joseph Henry, L/10867. 1st Bn. Royal Sussex Regt. 24th November 1919. 4.A.2. [#4707 in database].
He was the son of William and Jane Linfield of Angmering, and was probably an uncle of William Denn Linfield who was buried at Pozieres, (see above). However, these connections remain to be proved:
1. William LINFIELD #1895 born 1844, Angmering, occupation Bricklayer, married Jane —– #16098, born abt 1846, Sompting, died 20 Sep 1897, (Reg: East Preston), living: 1891, Angmering. William living: 23 Oct 1891, Angmering, Sussex. Poss the Wm LINFIELD, Builder & Contractor in Angmering 1903/1911 [Invoices purchased July 1993 from Judy Bright]. Named with bro Chas as the surviving execs of will of father in 1891. Shown as aged 46 bn Angmering in CR91. Jane: Shown in CR91 as aged 45, bn Sompting. [RG12/838 fo 141] Death ref opcs/d 2b219, age shown as 51; date given by Chris & Wendy Elliott. |
||
| Children | ||
| i | Louisa LINFIELD #7462 born abt 1862, bp. 27 Jul 1862, Pulborough, Sussex, England, occupation Servant, living: 1881, Slinfold, Sussex, England. Poss same as #13949 opcs/b Q3 1861 Thakeham or #4334 Q2 1860 Horsham, Sussex. Prev shown as child of #8058 – seems more likely given Pulborough location. Shown as aged 19 in CR81; servant bn Pulborough, living with Amy MILLS, unm. | |
| ii | Ralph LINFIELD #3217 born q1—1872, East Preston, Sussex, bp. 17 Mar 1872, Angmering, Sussex, England, ref: opcs/b 2b359, married q4—1892, marr ref: opcs/m 2b751, East Preston, Sussex, —– —– #16067, born abt 1872. Also entered as #8056 from IGI import. Prev shown as child of #8058. | |
| 2. | iii | Robert Denn LINFIELD #3280 born q1—1874. |
| iv | Frank LINFIELD #3312 born q1—1876, East Preston, Sussex, bp. 20 Feb 1876, Angmering, Sussex, ref: opcs/b 2b358, living: 1891, Angmering. Also entered as #651 from IGI import. Prev shown as child of #8058. Shown in CR91 as aged 15, bricklayer’s labourer, bn Angmering, same folio as William #1895 and Edwin #1897. |
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| v | Joseph Henry LINFIELD #4707 born q4—1878, Angmering (Reg: East Preston, Sussex), ref: opcs/b 2b355, occupation Private Soldier, died 24 Nov 1919, Rawalpindi, Pakistan, buried: Rawalpindi War Cemy, living: 1891, Angmering, Sussex. Shown as Private Joseph Henry LINFIELD, L/10867, Royal Sussex Regt. No age or details of parents, consistent with presumed age if #4707 is correct birth. [Casualty Listing from Commonwealth War Graves Commission 20 March 1997.] NOT PROVED THAT BIRTH AND DEATH DETAILS ARE OF SAME PERSON. Shown in CR91 as aged 12, farm boy, bn Angmering [RG12/838 fo 141] | |
| vi | Horace William LINFIELD #4036 born q3—1880, East Preston, Sussex, ref: opcs/b 2b375, living: 1891, Angmering, Sussex. Shown in CR91 as aged 10, scholar, bn Angmering, same folio as Edwin #1897 & William #1895.[RG12/838 fo 141] Shown in CR81 as aged 8m. | |
| vii | Hannah Denn LINFIELD #4404 born q3—1883, East Preston, Sussex, ref: opcs/b 2b367, married q2—1906, marr ref: opcs/m 2b753, East Preston, Sussex, —– —– #18069. Hannah living: 1891, Angmering. Shown in CR91 as aged 7, scholar, bn Angmering; same folio as Wm and Edwin. | |
Next Generation
2. Robert Denn LINFIELD #3280 born q1—1874, East Preston, Sussex, bp. 15 Feb 1874, Angmering, Sussex, ref: opcs/b 2b344, married q4—1892, in Stroud, marr ref: opcs/m 6a611, —– —– #16075. Also entered as #8191 from IGI import. Spelling is Dean in IGI, Denn in opcs/b Also spelt Denn in opcs/m. Prev shown as child of #8058.
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| Children | ||
| i | William Denn LINFIELD #4615 born q3—1894, Stroud, Kent, ref: opcs/b 6a309, occupation Private soldier, died 5 Apr 1918, buried: Pozieres Cemy, MR27. See also #3280 Robt Denn bn 1874 and #4404 Hannah Denn bn 1883 both E. Preston Listed in war dead as Pte William Denn LINFIELD, no SD/3164, 7th Bn, Royal Sx. Regiment ref MR27. NO PROOF OF LINK TO THESE PARENTS | |
Chatham Memorial – Kent, England
LINFIELD, Able Seaman, Alfred, C/J 114303. HMS Picotee Royal Navy. 12 August 1941. Age 31. Son of Frank and Lillian Linfield of Harlesden, Middx. 43,1. [#5497 in database].
LINFIELD, Able Seaman, William Stephen Lloyd, C/JX 247986. HMS Dasher Royal Navy. 27th March 1943. Age 22. Son of Edward John and Hannah Pearce Linfield of Twillingate, Newfoundland. 73, 2. [#16896 in database]. His descent from the Twillingate branch is as follows:
1. Frederick LINFIELD #9206 born 29 Aug 1849, Twillingate, Newfoundland, Canada, bp. 1 Nov 1849, Jenkins Cove, Twillingate, married 1 Jan 1881, in Twillingate, Newfoundland, Canada, Susannah POND #9205, born 1850, died 5 Mar 1938, Twillingate, Newfoundland, Canada, buried: North Side Cemy, Twillingate. Frederick died 17 Jun 1921, Twillingate, Newfoundland, Canada, buried: North Side Cemy, Twillingate. Started the Linfield store on the North Side and later passed it to son Edward. MI shows as aged 72. Susannah: MI shows as aged 88.
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| 2. | i | Edward John LINFIELD #9204 born 1883. |
| ii | Isabelle Lydia LINFIELD #16888 born 29 Nov 1881, Twillingate, Newfoundland, Canada, bp. 7 Mar 1882, married S COOK #16889, born abt 1881. | |
Next Generation
2. Edward John LINFIELD #9204 born 1883, Twillingate, Newfoundland, Canada, married Hannah Pearce —– #16890, born 1885, died 13 May 1967, Twillingate, Newfoundland, Canada. Edward died 30 Nov 1951, Twillingate, Newfoundland, Canada. MI shows as aged 68. Hannah: MI shows as aged 82.
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| Children | ||
| i | Emma Isabella LINFIELD #16891 born 6 Jul 1909, Twillingate, Newfoundland, Canada, bp. 25 Aug 1909, died 3 Oct 1909, buried: Nth Side Cemy, Twillingate. Prev shown as Erma Isabel.[from MI notes; Kaiser papers]. MI shows as aged 3 months. | |
| ii | Raymond George LINFIELD #16892 born 21 May 1911, Twillingate, Newfoundland, Canada, bp. 19 Jun 1911, died 21 Aug 1911. MI shows as aged 3 months. | |
| iii | Hubert Sidney LINFIELD #16893 born 1912, Twillingate, Newfoundland, Canada, died 3 Jul 1913. MI shows as aged 10 months. | |
| iv | Clara Louise LINFIELD #16894 born 1914, Twillingate, Newfoundland, Canada, died 2 Mar 1915. MI shows as aged 9 months. | |
| . | v | Ena Geneve LINFIELD #16895 born 1 Jul 1916. |
| vi | William Stephen Lloyd LINFIELD #16896 born 1921, Twillingate, Newfoundland, Canada, occupation Able Seaman, died 27 Mar 1943, HMS Dasher, buried: /commemorated, Chatham Memorial, Kent. Death prev shown as 26 Mar 1948 (presumed copying error). Shown as Able Seaman , C/JX 247986, HMS Dasher, Royal Navy, aged 22, son of Edward John and Hannah Pearce LINFIELD of Twillingate, Newfoundland. Ref 73,2. [Casualty Listing from Commonwealth War Graves Commission 20 March 1997.] | |
Dover (St James’s) Cemetery – Kent
LINFIELD, Leading Seaman, Harry Robert, 126723. H.M. Trawler “Lock Naver”. Royal Navy. Drowned 16th April 1915. Age 46. (R.F.R./PO/B/580). Born at Brighton, Sussex. M.W.19. [#3055 in database]. Harry was the son of Robert and Caroline Linfield, from whom several members of the Group descend, and whose descent is shown at the end of the article by Norma Frew in this issue.
Lowestoft Naval Memorial – Suffolk
LINFIELD, Lieutenant, Frederick Roy, Royal Naval Reserve. 29th January 1942. Age 31. Husband of Alice Cameron Minter Linfield, of Durban, Natal, South Africa. Panel 8, Column 1. [#2948 in database]. Frederick would have served with the Royal Naval Patrol Service, which was based in Lowestoft. Arthur G Lindfield was also a member of the RNPS, and his article about the Service appears elsewhere in this issue.
Wallasey (Rake Lane) Cemetery – Cheshire
LINFIELD, Ordinary Seaman, H.C. SS/7956. (PO). R.N. HMS “Achilles” Royal Navy. 21st October 1918. Age 19. Son of Harry and Mary Linfield of Chesswood Farm Cottage, Chesswood Road, Worthing. 7. C of E. 2. [#4838 or #5432 in database].
Lijssenthoek Military Cemetery – Belgium
LINDFIELD, Private, Albert Edward, 401984, 49th Bn., Canadian Infantry, (Alberta Regt). Died of accidental injuries 6 Sept 1916. Age 22. Son of Annie Lindfield (now Woolgar) of 299 Grey St etc and the late Henry Thos L, native of Brighton. Grave ref IX.D.15.
His father was Henry Thomas Lindfield who married Annie Scardifield:
Tyne Cot Memorial – Belgium
LINDFIELD, Private, Ephraim, 40940. 1st Bn. South Staffordshire Regiment. 4th October 1917. [#1530 in database].
Adanac Military Cemetery – Somme
LINDFIELD, Sapper, P, 154480. 401st Field Coy, Royal Engineers. 25th March 1918. IV. K. 11. [Possibly #1965 in database.] Another mystery, this one. If anyone can help us to identify him, please get in touch.
Aire Communal Cemetery – Pas de Calais
LINDFIELD, Private, C E, T4/083574. 46TH Coy. Army Service Corps. 15th November 1915. I.C. 10.
Mont Huon Military Cemetery – Seine Maritime
LINDFIELD, Able Seaman, Percy William, R/6248. Drake Bn., Royal Naval Division. Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve. Died of wounds (gas) 26 Mar 1918. Age 30. Husband of Grace Gertrude Lindfield of 43a, Richmond St, Brighton, Sussex. V.F.5A. [#3153 in database].
He was possibly the son of William Henry LINDFIELD #15748 born 19 May 1858, Lindfield, Sussex, occupation Coachman, who married on 19 September 1886, in St Peter’s, Brighton, Annie Elizabeth PERCY #15749. Percy William was born on 21st December 1887, in Brighton. According to information supplied by Alice & Tony Bamber, he was gassed on March 12, 1918 and died 14 days later. Percy and Grace had no children. Grace remarried.
Hove Old Cemetery – Sussex
LINDFIELD, Boy Second Class, Henry Thomas, J/89929. HMS “Impregnable” Royal Navy. Died of pneumonia 27th June 1918. Age 16. Son of Henry and Elizabeth Lindfield of Road Hole, West Blatchington, Hove. E.115. [#5517 in database]
Reigate (Redstone) Cemetery – Surrey
LINDFIELD, Gunner, George William, 1598363. 263 Bty. 19 Lt A.A. Regt., Royal Artillery. 30th June 1945. Age 33. Son of George and Ellen Lindfield; husband of Elizabeth D Lindfield of Reigate. Grave 67. [#5664 in database].
Wick Cemetery – Caithnesshire
LINDFIELD, Chief Petty Officer Writer, Arthur, P/M38109. HMS Exmouth Royal Navy. 21st January 1940. Age 35. Son of Arthur George and Laurie Rebecca Lindfield; husband of Kathleen Nellie Ada Lindfield, of Drayton, Cosham, Hampshire. Sec.O. Coll. grave 1.
In a future article, I will concentrate on those who served in other conflicts such as the American Civil War, and the War of Independence, the Crimean War, and the English Civil War. If any readers have particular interests in these subjects or know of Lin(d)field ancestors with military connections, I would be very pleased to hear from them.
References
1. Soldiers Died in the Great War. HMSO 1919.
2. Normandy to the Baltic, by Field-Marshal The Viscount Montgomery of Alamein. Hutchinson & Co, 1947
Links
- Our Military Ancestors Longshot Vol. 6.2
- Military Records Longshot Vol. 5.2
The Winds of Change
Have you ever lain awake at night and, looking back over your life, wondered what it would have been like if just that little thing had not been allowed to have turned your feet into another course? Rather like a great express train is directed – just by flicking over a set of points which causes the great monster to go into a quite different direction. So it has been with our lives, little trifles so very small – hardly noticeable – have been used in God Almighty’s hand to direct our steps into quite a different path than we expected or that might have been. I believe in God, and believe that He had an over ruling hand in what happened in my life.
It so happens that in my family I can look back over 220 years and yet only then come to the birth of my great grandparents! My father was 49 when I was born, that was 80 years ago. My grandfather was 49 when my father was born. Then, strange to say, my great grandparents were both 44 when my grandfather was born, which brings it back to 1777 covering only 4 generations!
In another article I have told you how I listened to bits of conversation as I sat on the claw of the table under the chenille tablecloth. There i got the impression that my great grandmother Sarah had been a woman of some character. She was the daughter of a certain JOHN BURTON 1747-1835. John had come from a well connected family who had lived in Rottingdean for some 200 years. He had married a young lady in Newtimber, but sadly she had died only 6 months later. Then he met another lady who had just become a widow – ANN HYDER, and who had been left with 2 children and a large market garden. No doubt a mutual sympathy and an ability to help her brought them together. They married and had two daughters, one of whom was my great grandmother Sarah.
I get the impression that when Sarah met my great grandfather Allen who was the son of a very small farmer in Chailey, that it was felt that she had married beneath her! When later, John Burton made his will, he completely bypassed his son-in-law and made his grandson his heir. He made the necessary provision for his daughter Sarah during her lifetime. John owned the farm on which they were living and the adjoining farm on which he himself was then living, besides property in Brighton and the market garden and land in Hurstpierpoint, which had been his wife’s. This latter property he gave to his second daughter Barbara before his actual death. That Sarah was his favourite daughter was pretty obvious, as each of her children received a portion in his will. Her sister is stated in a codicil as having had her portion during his lifetime, and her children are not mentioned.
Sarah and Allen had 9 children. Ann, the eldest, married at the age of 20, a certain CHARLES TULLEY, and went to live at the mill farm at Scotches Farm at New Close, about two and a half miles from Fowls Farm, her old home. Here, on 23rd of March 1821, she gave birth to her little son Charles. After his birth she suffered much from postnatal depression. This caused her husband much anxiety, and one day while at work in the fields, Charles had such an impression that all was not well. At first he ignored it but it became so insistent that he dropped his tools and hurried home – only to find his fears well grounded – Ann was floating in the mill pond – dead!
Now, what to do with baby Charles? He was rushed up to Fowls Farm to grandma Sarah. She herself had been delivered of her youngest son John William on February 23rd. So, baby Charles was to be suckled by his grand mother. In after years John William would tell the story of this and laughingly say “ Yes, Charles had all the cream while I had only the skim milk!” It so happened that Charles was a tall finely built man while John William was short.
So, Charles and John William grew up together like twins, – uncle and nephew, – while Sarah ruled. So much so that when the boys became 13 they felt that enough was enough and they ran away! Charles went to Brighton and became a butcher’s boy. Speaking of this time he used to tell us of how, tired and footsore, he would have to walk through the streets carrying a wooden tray of meat on his shoulder. One day in particular he would recall how he sat down on a certain door step and burst into tears. But many years later he was able to buy the very house where he had sat!
He learned the trade of butchery and opened eventually his own shop and slaughter house. This was at St John’s Common, which at that time was fast becoming an important residential area owing to the nearby Pottery and Brick Works. After this he had his own farm at Pangdean and became a very noted breeder of Southdown sheep. So wealthy did he become that as his family married, he gave each a house, and built himself a house at Hassocks to which he and his wife and his one unmarried daughter retired. He lived to the ripe old age of 103 years and 11 months.
In his book, A Sussex Farmer, Mr William Wood writes: “At one of those fairs at Lindfield, a very dry year, .. ewes and lambs were in very poor condition and I came across a very large consignment.. . quite up to the standard of other seasons. The owner, Mr Charles Tulley of Pangdean Farm, sat on the wattles, and I congratulated him upon the fact that his sheep were as good as they always had been in spite of the drought. “Yes” he said, “nine years out of ten my flock keeps me, and when we get a year like this – I keep my flock.”
My grand father, John William ran in a different direction. He went to Chailey to his Uncle CHARLES AVERY of Longridge Farm, and became his carter boy. He was allowed to sleep in the attic, and he worked hard, one of his tasks being to take cattle to the market. He very soon became a very good judge of what was good or bad in cattle. This gift became very noticeable to other farmers. It got to the stage where they found it worth their while to get him to buy for them. In this way John began to get substantial tips and to store them away in his little room under the eaves.
Now on the opposite side of the road from Longridge is another farm originally known as “Huggetts”. But later it is known as “New House Farm”. A long row of Poplar trees had been planted along the road hedge at one time and while they were there the house was frequently known as the Poplars. About 1815 this farm was let to a WILLIAM LINDFIELD (Ref:#108 in database). He had been born at Keymer in 1788 as the son of Thomas and Sarah (n� Scrase). He had married first LYDIA STUBBS, but after the birth of their only child Frances, Lydia had died and William had married ELIZABETH WALKER in 1816. To her there were born 8 children and the lovely old house became a happy home to these youngsters. The great old farm house on the south side of the road had not been so blessed. Charles Avery was not married until much later in life. He did eventually marry the lady who had been his housekeeper so faithfully for so long. You can imagine my grandfather as a lad felt lonely at times, for “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” the saying goes! One little dark haired girl especially became a favourite with John William. He was five years older than she. It was not long before thoughts of the future began to form in his mind and being of necessity practical minded boy, he says “ I used to sit in my little attic window and look across to New House, count up my savings and try to work out how long it would be before I could marry Martha” (Ref: #224 in database).
Perhaps this was a good incentive to perseverance for we find that on March 26th 1841 at Chailey Parish Church John William married his heart’s desire- little Martha Lindfield though she was only 15! Yes, only just! After the service was over the Clergyman who married them said “If I had known you were so young I would not have done it! The marriage was witnessed by her father and mother so they must have had some confidence in him. For the first few months they lived at home with her parents but when their first child was born they are living at Ditchling. So I guess with intention to better himself John William is with Martha’s relatives at Ditchling learning how to be a butcher? Before the next child arrived they are settled at Stream Cottage, Wivelsfield Green, where they have a part of the house turned into a butcher’s shop with a small slaughter house at the rear. Here at Stream cottage were born nine children. By this time John their eldest son intends to get married so – again John William stops to think.

Martha Lindfield 1826-1874
Martha’s parents have died and the eldest son has decided to vacate New House. What could be better than for John William and Martha and their nine children to move back to New House and leave son John and his new wife in Stream Cottage. So, in 1864 they moved back to Martha’s old home and here was born the last of their 14 children, my own father being the 13th.
But sadly, in 1874 Martha died, not in childbirth but with appendicitis for which in those days there was no known cure. She was only 48 and my father lost a loving mother when he was only 6. But Grandfather was not to be daunted. The following year he married again and they had 3 more children, but my father said how kind his stepmother was to him.
But to return to great grandmother Sarah. During her life time the preaching of that great Evangelist George Whitfield and his great confederates had changed the lives of many families throughout England. At Great Ote hall in Wivelsfield, Salina Countess of Huntingdon had opened her house for preaching. The great William Romaine and others were guest speakers at her home. At last she built for the people of Wivelsfield a chapel now known as Ote Hall Chapel. The Burton Family were staunch Church of England attendants but somewhere along the line great grandmother Sarah and her family became Chapel attendants. The story went that Sarah who had been a keen card player, saw them image of Satan on the back of her cards and she put them down never to play again. Members of her family became much attached to Ote Hall Chapel and then there was a breakaway there, and Bethel Chapel was built. Children were often taken to chapels miles away to be named instead of being christened and because of the distance they were done in batches! In the case of William Lindfield’s family I eventually found them at Jireh Chapel Lewes where 4 of them were named in May I824. after Bethel Chapel opened batches of children were named there. When researching one needs to know a little about their lives and the signs of the times.
I wonder what future generations will remember about us.
Jomo Kenyatta
INTRODUCTION
I recently sent a letter of enquiry to the West Sussex Gazette, which appeared in the edition of June 6 1996. It reads as follows:
“Dear Sir: On behalf of somebody who is researching the life of Jomo Kenyatta, I have been asked to find out what I can about the wartime years he spent in West Sussex before he returned to Kenya in 1946. The knowledge I have is fairly limited, and I am hoping to appeal to readers who may have known him during his time in this county.
The sum of my knowledge is this: Kenyatta came to England in 1929 as official spokesman for his people, the Kikuyu, to try and redress their grievances against the colonial government. He stayed in England for the next 17 years, during which time he studied anthropology at the University of London and wrote his acclaimed book ‘Facing Mount Kenya’, which was published in 1938.
The outbreak of war prevented Kenyatta returning home. In 1940, he came down to Sussex where he found work at AG Linfield and Sons, market gardeners, at Thakeham. He was initially put to work in the tomato hot-houses.
During this time he lived in the neighbouring village of Storrington, where I believe he married a local girl. They had a son, Peter, who eventually went to live in Kenya. He was something of a novelty to the local people, who affectionately called him ‘Jumbo’. I also believe he travelled up to London one day a week to continue his studies.
I remember my grandfather telling me years ago that he had Kenyatta over to lunch on a number of occasions, when they discussed politics among other things. I don’t expect they always agreed on everything! My grandfather gave me a book which Kenyatta had written and given him – it is called ‘My People of Kikuyu’ and is inscribed inside the front cover: “To AG Linfield. With best wishes, Jomo Kenyatta. 17-4-42.
If any of your readers have any interesting recollections of Kenyatta, then I shall be delighted to hear from them.”
Although the number of letters I received was small, they were all of interest, so my appeal to the WSG had not been in vain. They certainly added to my knowledge of this fairly controversial figure. His connection with my family has always fascinated me, and since he is therefore a part of my family history, I have decided to write this article about him.
Perhaps the most interesting letter came from the daughter of Roy Armstrong, with whom Kenyatta lived as a paying tenant during the war years. I went to see her and she showed me where Jomo had his vegetable plot in their large garden. I had always thought that Jomo actually lived in the village of Storrington, whereas, in fact, he lived in the Sandgate area, some 2 miles to the east of the village – heathland and beautiful wooded countryside, with spectacular views of the South Downs. Apparently, Jomo felt quite at home here, since the similarities with his homeland were quite striking. During his visit to England in 1963 when he attended the Lancaster House Conference in London, now as prime minister of Kenya, Jomo made a special trip with his cabinet to visit the Armstrongs.
Apparently I made a couple of mistakes in my letter to the WSG. Kenyatta’s English wife came from Ashington and was called Edna Clarke. She was a fellow lecturer in the WEA, which is how she came to meet Jomo. They had a son, Peter, born in 1943, but he never settled in Kenya, as I incorrectly stated, and works as a researcher/journalist for the BBC. Jomo had another son in Kenya, whom he also called Peter, which is what led to my confusion!
1929-46
As general secretary of the Kikuyu Central Association (KCA), Kenyatta was sent to London as their official representative on 17 February 1929. Despite the reports of a number of Royal Commissions sent to Kenya in the 1920s, the KCA still felt strongly that their grievances had not being properly addressed. By sending their official spokesman to the very heart of the British Empire, they now felt that they possibly stood a better chance of obtaining concessions. Incidentally, Jomo may well have been introduced to my grandfather’s uncle, Frederick Caesar Linfield (1861-1939) who, as a Liberal Member of Parliament, was a member of the Parliamentary Commission sent to East Africa in 1924.
Since colonisation in the 1890s, the deprivation of their land in ever increasing amounts was to become the major grievance of the Kikuyu. By 1904, large numbers of white settlers had been allocated farm areas in central Kikuyuland, and by 1905 some 11,000 Kiambu Kikuyu alone had lost 60,000 acres. Many were forced to work as cheap labour on the European farms, which was particularly degrading for a traditionally independent people. White settlement in Kiambu effectively blocked the possible expansion of the Kikuyu and closed the southern frontier. The closing of the frontier was of great importance in the 1930s, when population pressures, limited resources and opportunities led to a growing sense of despair among the people. Their inability to redress their economic, social and political grievances through their political organisations (the Kikuyu Association was formed in 1920) only added to the intensity of their frustrations.
Evicted Kikuyu were forced to migrate to the towns, where growing unemployment aggravated their problems and sense of despair. Barriers were also erected to stifle all African aspirations to advancement and to positions of prestige and status in the white market economy. Thus the African was forbidden to cultivate cash crops like coffee, tea, sisal and pyrethrum. The role of the African was essentially limited to that of a low wage earner.
Throughout the colonial period in Kenya, the cultural traditions of the Kikuyu were also challenged by the whites. The Kikuyu had their own religion, superstitions and ceremonial circumcision or initiation rites; they also believed in the spiritual presence of ancestors. But the Europeans made little effort to understand Kikuyu customs and condemned them out of hand. The missions were a major source of Kikuyu resentment because they demanded a total transformation without compromise. But from about 1923, the aims and motives of the missionary churches were increasingly questioned by the Kikuyu people – their authority was no longer regarded as sacrosanct.
This was the background to Kenyatta’s visit to England in 1929, his objective being to take his people’s complaints to the very top. His trip was financed by a group of Indian merchants, who saw the potential of sending the articulate and persuasive Kenyatta to the centre of British politics. Unfortunately, perhaps not surprisingly at the time, Kenyatta found himself facing something of a brick wall; while there were plenty of people who were sympathetic and interested, the colonial office refused to even see him. Nevertheless, a meeting with Drummond Shiels (British colonial under-secretary) in 1930 proved particularly prophetic; he argued that to “refuse to see or hear emissaries of the discontented” would only drive them towards “violent methods” (Ref. 1) Kenyatta returned briefly to Kenya in October 1930, since the Indians were no longer willing to support him. Since he could do more in London than back home, the KCA raised the necessary money to send him back and he left towards the end of 1931, but this time he was to stay away for the next 15 years.
Kenyatta found odd jobs to finance his mission and lived as cheaply as he could. He continued to bombard the Colonial Office with petitions, all of which were ignored. He must have lived a thoroughly frustrating existence, with little to show for his efforts. He achieved some success in 1932 when he managed to persuade the Carter Land Commission to offer compensation to those evicted from their lands by the settlers, although Africans were still to be barred from the choice highlands area. In 1936, he embarked on a course of anthropology at the University of London under Bronislaw Malinowski, at that time arguably the leading expert in his field in England. Malinowski was struck by Kenyatta’s intelligence and true understanding of his people’s culture, and helped prepare his book, mentioned earlier, “Facing Mount Kenya” which came out in 1938. The book was a bestseller, and helped to establish Kenyatta as something of a celebrity who people wanted to meet and talk to. But the book was more than a history of his people’s culture- it was also full of propaganda and attacked the whole colonial system in Kenya.
Kenyatta was now ready to return to Kenya, having at least done much to publicise the grievances of his people to the outside world. Unfortunately, the outbreak of the Second World War put paid to his plans, and the world lost interest in African politics as the activities of Hitler and the Nazis dominated the world stage. Unable to return home, he was persuaded by his friend Dinah Stock that they should leave London and stay with friends in the relative safety of the country. They set out to stay with friends near the village of Storrington in West Sussex, and so they arrived at the home of Roy Armstrong, a Southampton University lecturer. The peaceful countryside was, in many ways, a home from home to Kenyatta, with its view of the rolling South Downs, its bracken and silver birches, its woods and farmland. He certainly felt comfortable here, and stayed throughout the duration of the war.
Roy Armstrong rented out the flat in his house to Dinah Stock and Kenyatta in 1939. He was given his own area of scrub to clear where he successfully cultivated his own supply of vegetables and kept some chickens. Armstrong’s daughter, who was a small girl at the time, clearly remembers her fascination for the sweet corn he was growing – it was the first time she had ever seen it! When I went to see her recently, she showed me the site of Kenyatta’s vegetable plot, as well as the silver birch which was his “sacred tree”, through which he communicated with the spirits of his people during his more reflective moments. Mysteriously, perhaps, this tree survived the batterings of the 1987 Hurricane whereas all the trees surrounding it were brought crashing to the ground.
Soon after moving to Sussex, Kenyatta found a job as a farm worker in the locality. In 1940 or 1941, he took a job as a nursery worker at AG Linfield’s Chesswood nurseries in the neighbouring village of Thakeham. He was initially put to work in the tomato glasshouses, although he also worked in many other areas. The shortage of manpower throughout the war years meant he would have done many different jobs during the four or five years he was employed at the family business. Although AG Linfield, under the Chesswood label, has become synonymous with the production of mushrooms, the war years saw a complete cessation of mushroom growing since they were regarded by the Government as a “non-essential luxury devoid of food value”. (Ref. 2). So the cultivation of mushrooms was an area Kenyatta would not have experienced. The strive to produce as much home grown food as possible meant that companies like Linfields had to devote all their energies to the production of vegetables; indoor and outdoor tomatoes were one of their most important crops during this period.
Kenyatta apparently got on well with everybody, and proved to be a helpful and kind worker, willing to come to the aid of anyone who needed a helping hand. He even cooked the beetroot before it was sold. During his time in Sussex, he became friendly with a family in Ashington and it was through them that he met Edna Clarke, a teacher. When her parents were killed in an air raid in May 1941, Kenyatta instinctively offered his help and sympathy and within a year they were married. On 11 August 1943, their son Peter Magana was born in Worthing Hospital. He was named after Kenyatta’s grandfather.
Kenyatta was something of a novelty in the Storrington area. Affectionately known as ‘Jumbo’, he soon settled into Sussex life and was well known in the village. But he was definitely an extraordinary character – flamboyant and gregarious, a showman who delighted in mimicry and whose powers of imagination would hold an audience spellbound as he pretended to stalk and kill a lion. No doubt these exceptional talents helped him to persevere through the long years of frustration and disappointment which he must have endured in England, trying to put the case of his people to a largely unreceptive governing class. He never gave up, and despite numerous setbacks, somehow or other he always managed to keep his dream alive. No doubt, the peaceful Sussex countryside and its close resemblance to his homeland must have been a comfort as well as a reminder of his single-minded purpose. He managed to keep cheerful throughout his wartime exile, a man convinced of his destiny and confident that one day the aspirations of his people would be realised. It was only a matter of time.
To supplement his farmworker’s wage of 4 per week, he was in much demand as a lecturer. Not only did he lecture to British troops under the Forces Educational Scheme, but he also lectured for the Workers Educational Association (WEA), usually about colonial issues. Two of my correspondents had attended some of these lectures: one remembers a meeting which took place at the White Hart, Queen Street, Arundel when Kenyatta was introduced by Arthur Johnson of Coldwaltham, a local NUPE organiser. On this occasion, his lecture was about India and its struggle for independence. On another occasion, on June 24 1942, his theme was “What does Europe want of Africa?” His line, as usual, related to land, oppression and the hardship and misery of the native peoples.
1946-50 Nationalist leader
In September 1946, Kenyatta sailed from Southampton, leaving behind Edna and their child at Thakeham. Once home, as the unquestioned leader of the new nationalism, he soon became fully immersed in Kenyan politics. He had spent sixteen years abroad, mostly in England, campaigning for his people, during which time he wrote a powerful critique of the whole British occupation in Kenya. When he returned home, it was only natural that he was given the leadership of the new Kenya African Union (KAU), a nationalist association which sought to incorporate all the tribes in Kenya. Therefore, he was not solely concerned with the grievances of the Kikuyu. His immediate concern was to build up mass support for the aims of the new party: freedom of speech; universal franchise; equal rights with Europeans; to “defend” all Kenya Africans; and to “fight” for African education, labour, housing and freedom of the press. Obviously, after repeated failure to gain concessions before the war, he now realised that show of strength was the most likely way of achieving reform. So he embarked upon the most intensive political effort of his life: building up the strength of the KAU. In these early post war years, he secured his Kikuyu base first and then worked from it. An early attempt was made to extend his political message to the independent schools. Kenyatta spent much of his time touring the country, addressing meetings, and attracting audiences of some twenty to thirty thousands. These enormous meetings exemplified his personal magnetism and charisma as a leader; he stirred the very emotions of his audience often to a fever-pitch which threatened to explode into action. Yet he always had full control over the situation; essentially, he was an orthodox nationalist leader who wanted to avoid violence as far as possible. Kenyatta’s primary objective was to show the colonial authorities the dangerous consequences of ignoring the new nationalist movement. However, this is not to deny that he was probably prepared to tolerate a certain amount of violence should the government not come to its senses and fail to grant concessions to the nationalists.
1950-61 Kenyatta and the “Mau Mau” rebellion
Kenyatta’s alleged involvement with the “Mau Mau” rebellion during the 1950s has effectively tainted his reputation ever since. Although the meaning of the term remains obscure, we identify “Mau Mau” with “the militant nationalism and the violen
e that characterised the politics of central Kenya before and during the early years of the Emergency” (Ref. 3), which was declared by a frightened government in October 1952. It first made its appearance in 1948, and it was officially proscribed in 1950.
It is important to realise from the start that the phenomenon of “Mau Mau” was restricted to one tribe, the Kikuyu, not surprisingly because they were the most seriously affected by colonisation among the various tribes in Kenya. They had most to complain about; but their many attempts to redress their grievances through the machinery of the colonial state had always failed. The failure of Jomo Kenyatta to gain any concessions after World War II enabled the militants to come to power, and the result was the tragedy of the “Mau Mau” rebellion: with the enormous loss of 13,547 lives (of whom 13,423 were Kikuyu alone).
A typically European interpretation of “Mau Mau” – especially among the colonial government, the missionary leaders and the white settlers – was that it was a fanatical collective madness. Such people were convinced that Kenyatta was the mastermind of a secret tribal cult, led by unscrupulous extremists who stirred up the primitive masses to further their own ambitions. For LSB Leakey, “Mau Mau” had the evil power of “turning thousands of peacekeeping Kikuyu into murderous fanatics.” (Ref. 4). The widespread use of oathing and oathing ceremonies were taken by Kenya’s Europeans to signify an irrational rejection of modernity; due to their primitive intellect, the Kikuyu were considered unable to adapt to rapid change. In reality, “Mau Mau” was the logical outcome of years of mounting frustration and deterioration of life conditions. Allowed no outlet, these frustrations boiled over into the violence that was “Mau Mau” – all European values were turned upside down, and the tribe found “its mystical unity in the re-formed figures of the past.” (Ref. 5)
In effect, “Mau Mau” can be regarded as a post-political type of social movement because it grew out of the repeated failure of the Kikuyu political organizations to gain any reform through the constitutional channels of the colonial government. The younger Kikuyu became increasingly impatient with the lack of progress, especially after World War II. These were the men who formed the backbone of “Mau Mau.” The resort to a post-political solution to their problems seemed the only hope for salvation; and it was reinforced when Kenyatta and the other main Kikuyu political leaders were arrested in October 1952.
Kenyatta’s responsibility for “Mau Mau” has been the subject of a great deal of debate. Was he a moderate forced to take a militant line by the extremists, or was he committed to violence or the threat of violence to gain reform? Certainly, there needs to be a firm distinction drawn between his responsibility for “Mau Mau” and the position bestowed upon him during the rebellion. But far from being responsible for “Mau Mau”, Kenyatta could hardly have supported it even. Its inherently tribal orientation not only threatened to destroy the solidarity he had helped to build up among the Kikuyu but also the years of hard work he had put into building an all-tribe nationalist movement. For fear of domination by a single tribe threatened to break apart the all-tribal unity which Kenyatta sought to pitch against the colonial government.
It is this consideration, I think, which explains Kenyatta’s open condemnation of “Mau Mau” on a number of occasions in 1951 and 1952; many of his opponents said he had his tongue-in-cheek. But he feared that a violent tribal confrontation would destroy what he had already achieved, and his condemnation of “Mau Mau” was probably a warning to the militants to step into line. In all probability, he was not fool enough to believe that an individual tribal revolt could achieve anything like as much as a rationally conceived confrontation which included all the tribes of Kenya. Events proved him wrong; but he was not to know that they would. Kenyatta wanted to coerce the colonial authorities into granting concessions; solidarity among the Kenya Africans was a crucial weapon in his armoury. But a rebellion among the Kikuyu would be easily suppressed, and would lead the government to take immediate action against the nationalist movement as a whole; in effect, extinguishing what he had achieved, and setting back the nationalist movement by years. These were probably his fears.
Unfortunately, Kenyatta lost the initiative to the militants. The evidence tends to suggest that “Mau Mau” evolved from the militant infiltration of Kenyatta’s all-tribe KAU by the old members of the KCA and the young militants of the “Forty group”, who were simultaneously leaders of the new underground movement. In the early post-war years, it was a highly select secret organisation with limited membership. But with the failure of KAU to gain any reform, it underwent a dramatic transformation beginning in 1950 into an underground mass movement. By 1950, the young extremists had given up all hope of finding compromise with the Europeans, and despite his hold over the masses, Kenyatta lost his initiative to the less patient militants. He was powerless to prevent the tragedy of “Mau Mau.” In effect, the government was a major precipitant of “Mau Mau” by failing to grant concessions when it was absolutely necessary.
Kenyatta’s position in the movement is a very interesting one, because whether he liked it or not, he was the acclaimed leader of “Mau Mau.” Oaths were administered in his name and he was claimed to possess divine powers. But he was elevated to this position by the militants who administered the oaths. In effect, he was the figurehead and not the real driving force behind the movement. Kenyatta was a name to be used because he was the most widely known and revered of the Kikuyu nationalists – he had shown his magnetism as a leader at the vast meetings he addressed, and he was surrounded by a mystical aura. So, with or without his approval, he was the “leader” of “Mau Mau” even after his detention.
Even though Kenyatta must have condemned the violence of “Mau Mau” because it essentially involved the horrors of a Kikuyu civil war, he was still regarded as the spiritual leader of the movement. But there was no central direction of operations; “Mau Mau” became the rebellion of semi-educated or illiterate peasants who expressed their frustrations in almost indiscriminate violence. It was not so much directed against the European settlers than against Africans considered to be loyalist to the government. While only about 95 Europeans were killed by “Mau Mau” terrorists, nearly 2000 “loyalist” Kikuyu lost their lives. It would seem that the embittered Kikuyu were more incensed towards the loyalists among their tribe than the people who were directly responsible for their adverse conditions. The tragedy of “Mau Mau” is that it need never have happened – an enlightened government would have seen the folly of continuing to suppress all African aspirations, which made some sort of revolt inevitable.
Of course, in a state of confusion and with no central leadership, it was only a matter of time before the might of the British Army defeated “Mau Mau.” By 1956 the rebellion was over; more than 11,000 Kikuyu had been killed by the security forces. But all had not been in vain; the revolt ensured that change was inevitable in Kenya. The complacency of the colonial government was shattered beyond repair. In 1961, Kenyatta and the other detainees were released; three years later he was President of an independent African state: the Republic of Kenya.
1961-78 Kenyatta the Statesman
Soon after his release, Kenyatta once again set about building the bridges of national unity. As a tribally diverse country, his first imperative was to unify all the tribes of Kenya to fight against the colonial government’s desire to put off the inevitable. Soon he would be back in London again, attending the Kenya Constitutional Conference. It was during these negotiations, that he took time off in October 1963 to revisit old friends in West Sussex. He visited Roy Armstrong at his wartime home at Highover, Bracken Lane, Heath Common, Storrington, complete with limousine, his cabinet and bodyguards! Politics was apparently not one of the subjects they covered. Arthur Johnson of West Chiltington, who knew Kenyatta well during the war years and who lectured with him on anthropology and colonial administration, stated that he “could never believe that he was responsible for those atrocities in Kenya.” His wife said: “We remember him as he was here. We thought he was a very friendly and very nice charming man who was very fond of children and of animals.” (Ref. 6) Mrs FW Eddolls, in charge of the Linfields’ canteen during the war, also said how she found him to be “a very nice and likeable chap” and how she would be very pleased to see him again.
In 1964 Kenya became a republic within the British Commonwealth with Kenyatta its first president. He had come a long way from his days as the friendly, helpful nursery worker at Linfields’ nursery! His first act was to welcome the frightened whites to stay in the country. Despite the nine years he had been kept in detention by the colonial government, he was able to forget his own suffering and offer the hand of reconciliation. He also knew the importance of maintaining stability in Kenya if foreign capital was still to be invested in the new state. Despite the years of violence of “Mau Mau”, Kenya soon became a model of harmony and stability. Foreign investment boomed and the economy flourished.
During 1965, my uncle, Jim Linfield and his family went on holiday to Kenya to stay with his brother-in-law, who had a farm there. During their visit, they were all “summoned” to Nairobi to meet the President and I have a signed photograph of them with Kenyatta. It is dated November 11 1965. Kenyatta had also invited them to his home, but at the last moment it was cancelled by a political crisis when UDI was declared by Ian Smith in Rhodesia.
Kenyatta guided his nation for fourteen years. Although there were several scandals, and he was supposed to have amassed a large fortune, the people of Kenya remained loyal to him and grateful for the lifetime of devotion he had given to the cause of their freedom. His legacy was enormous: when he died on August 22 1978, he left behind a prosperous and peaceful nation, and certainly one of the most stable of the newly independent African states.
Conclusion
The overall picture I have gained about Kenyatta during his wartime years in Sussex is something like this: he was respected as a popular and good lecturer and I have found little evidence of any racism against him. My cousin remembers him as a very cultured and intelligent man who loved children and animals. It would seem that he was generally accepted by his fellow employees and the local people; of course, there was a war on at the time, and people were very much pre-occupied with the national effort to defeat the Nazis. Jomo was undoubtedly a charismatic figure who earned the respect and even affection of the many local people with whom he came into contact.
As for his personal involvement with the “Mau Mau” rebellion, I feel that the evidence speaks for itself. He was essentially a nationalist leader who had spent decades pursuing a peaceful and patient policy to obtain concessions for the people of his homeland. But his apparent lack of success in the face of protracted opposition meant that he lost the initiative to a younger generation of militants unimpressed with his gradual approach and also more determined to achieve change as quickly as possible. As the unquestioned leader of the new national movement and with a charismatic presence, he was effectively elevated to the position of leader of “Mau Mau” whether he liked it or not. The tragedy of “Mau Mau” is that he had long predicted the dire consequences of ignoring the aspirations of the African, but the authorities chose to ignore him. They really should have listened.
References
1. Jomo Kenyatta by Dennis Wepman (1985), p. 61.
2. History of the MGA (1945-1980) by FC Atkins OBE in The Mushroom Journal, May 1983, p. 164.
3. The Myth of Mau Mau: Nationalism in Kenya by Carl G. Rosberg and John Nottingham p. xvi Introduction.
4. Defeating Mau Mau by LSB Leakey, p. 43.
5. Comment on Corfield Makerere College, Kampala November 1960, p. 37.
6. “Kenyatta invited to West Sussex” in Worthing Herald, 1963.
Bibliography
1. Kenyatta by Jeremy Murray-Brown, 2nd edition 1979.
2. The Myth of Mau Mau: Nationalism in Kenya by Carl G. Rosberg and John Nottingham
3. Jomo Kenyatta by Dennis Wepman, 1985
4. Defeating Mau Mau by LSB Leakey, 1954
5. The Mushroom Journal, May 1983.
6. Comment on Corfield Makerere College, Kampala November 1960.
7. Kenyatta and the Politics of Kenya by Guy Arnold, 1973
8. Worthing Herald, October 1963
9. West Sussex County Times, March 5 1976
10.Kenyatta’s Country by Richard Cox, 1965
The Tragic Life of Julius Caesar
JULIUS CAESAR was the youngest child of BENJAMIN CAESAR (1797-1867), baker of Godalming and ANN BOWLER (1796-1880) who were married in 1816. He was the youngest of six brothers and one sister, Annie (1822-95), who married WILLIAM LINFIELD, a tailor at Brighton, in 1850. I have already related in a previous article (Longshot May 1993, “William and Anne Linfield of Worthing”) the rather strange circumstances of their marriage, and how they falsified the 1851 Census to hide this information from prying eyes. I also conjectured that part of the reasoning behind their decision had something to do with Julius, but more of that later. This article is an attempt to provide a detailed account of his life, which started so full of promise when he excelled at the game of cricket but came to a premature end after he suffered some cruel personal misfortunes.

Julius Caesar 1830-1878
‘Juley’ was born on March 25 1830 at Godalming, Surrey. When he died, in straightened circumstances, on March 5 1878, he was only 47 years of age. Nevertheless, during his short life he became one of the most well known players in the world of cricket. He was lucky, of course, to have been brought up in a family who were devoted to the game, so much so that they fielded their own team in a celebrated match in August 1850 when Twelve Caesars vied with Eleven Gentlemen of Godalming & District.
Julius’s name began to appear in newspaper reports of local matches when he was a mere lad of 16 years of age. A reporter on the Surrey Gazette of July 7 1846 concluded, with remarkable foresight, that Julius promised “to be as noted in the game of cricket as his ancient namesake was in the art of war.” Undoubtedly, he was very lucky to have the support of his family whose love of the game must have been a tremendous boost to someone with such natural talent. His father, uncles, brothers and cousins all played; in fact, on September 8 1846, the Godalming team at home to Shillinglee Park included five Caesars: George, Benjamin, Richard, William and Frederick.
It wasn’t too long before Julius’s talents far surpassed his relatives, although his brother Fred was quite good and he still appeared for the Godalming team for a number of years. A carpenter by trade, Julius was not tall (5ft 7in) but very strong which showed in his powerful batting. He hit hard and clean, and was soon renowned for his excellent batting. But he was also a very useful fielder, especially at point where he made some superb catches. His scoring for Godalming at the Oval in 1848 against the Surrey Club caught the attention of the county hierarchy, so much so that he was selected to play for the Players of Surrey XI against a team of the county’s gentlemen in June 1849. His performance was good, with 30 runs and 3 wickets in a stint at bowling. With William Caffyn and Thomas Lockyer, he joined the professionals at Surrey later that year. No doubt, the extra money would come in very handy.
Julius played his first game for Surrey on June 28 1849, when they played against Sussex at the Oval. Opening the batting for his new team, he scored 15 out of a total of 79. Sussex achieved a lead of 23 runs, but Surrey ran up 144 in their second innings. Sussex were out for 106 in their second innings, to leave Surrey winners by 15 runs.
In May 1850, he played his first match at Lord’s when he faced the bowling of the legendary William Lillywhite, who was then nearly 59. Julius opened the innings, and scored 13 and 22 not out in a 9 wicket victory for Surrey over Middlesex. It was about this time, in June 1850, that Julius married Jane Brewser, daughter of a local carpenter. But the marriage appears to have taken place without parental approval – for instead of marrying in their local church, they were married at Stoke Church, Guildford which was 4 miles away. Two months later, their first child, FREDERICK WILLIAM was born – which gives a clue to the nature of the suspected complications surrounding the event. Two more sons followed (JULIUS in 1859 and CHARLES BENJAMIN in 1862), while a daughter (ANNE JANE), born in 1857, died two years later.
As revealed previously, the problems surrounding Julius’s marriage had important implications for the matrimonial plans of his only sister, Annie. When they were married at Brighton on September 30 1850, both William Linfield and Anne Caesar were far from home, and sharing cheap lodgings, no doubt to satisfy the obligatory three week banns period before they could get married in the local parish church. But the deadly serious nature of their efforts to conceal their marriage is revealed six months later when both of them falsified the 1851 Census, each declaring they were ‘unmarried’. Annie was living back in Godalming, whilst her husband was a ‘visitor’ at the Spaniard Hotel in Worthing, where they eventually settled.
The most likely explanation for these odd events is that Anne’s parents strongly disapproved of the match. Knowing the family obsession with the game of cricket, her father probably had his own plans for her matrimonial future. Perish the thought that she might possibly want to marry someone who had never even played the game in his life! Julius’s behaviour no doubt infuriated her parents, thereby adding to the predicament she found herself in. The solution: to get married in secret, and then to tell her parents when the dust had settled. We will never know when she plucked up the courage to break the news, but their first child (WILLIAM HENRY LINFIELD) wasn’t born till 1854, some four years after they secretly wed in Brighton. I suspect it was mainly her father who was the problem. Some years after his death in 1867, her mother came to live with them in Worthing and is buried in the cemetery in South Farm Road. She died in 1880, aged 84.
It was in August 1850, on Thursday 8th and Friday 9th, that Julius was involved in the famous family match in which Twelve Caesars took on Eleven Gentlemen of Godalming. Whatever the animosity between father and son, no doubt their differences were put aside – his presence in the family team was crucial. Julius took 5 wickets in the Gentlemen’s first innings of 123. The family were all out for 95 when their turn came to bat. In the second innings, Fred Caesar took 8 of the Gentlemen’s wickets and they were all out for 42, setting the scene for a famous family victory. Unfortunately, though, some unexpectedly brilliant bowling by the opposition had the Caesars all out for 54, and they lost by 16 runs. Nevertheless, it was still a remarkable achievement – and must have been the main topic of family conversation for years!
The 1850s were an outstanding decade for Julius’s cricketing career. But what do we know of the man himself? He was undoubtedly a complex character, full of nervous energy; and with a strange form of pessimism which had convinced him that a poor score would lead to his automatic suspension from the Surrey team. He had a terrible fear of fire, once waking the whole household at Hereford by ringing a bell and shouting “Fire!” after being disturbed in the night by a noisy reveller. But he was popular with his fellow cricketers, whom he kept amused by a constant flow of witticisms. Another amusing anecdote is related by Richard Daft in his book ‘Kings of Cricket’ which was published in 1893: “One of the liveliest members of our team was Julius Caesar, of Surrey. He was one of the smartest men altogether I ever came across. His scores for All England Eleven, Surrey, The Players, &c., were for a great number of years very large. His hitting was as smart and clean as anything that could be witnessed. He always travelled with a huge portmanteau, and like George Parr with the hat-box, he was extremely fond of it. He was always particularly anxious to let us know that it was “solid leather.” It was a great deal too large for his needs evidently; for whenever any amount of luggage was put on the top of it, it used to go down as flat as a pancake, so that sometimes he used to have a difficulty in finding it amongst the rest of our baggage.”
Another contemporary, William Caffyn, has also left a revealing glimpse of this rather strange character:
“The word ‘brilliant’ may be used very appropriately when describing the batting of my fellow countryman, Julius Caesar. He was one of those clean, hard hitters, whom it is so delightful to watch. Although only about 5′ 7”, ‘Juley’ was very powerfully made. He may be described as “a big man in a little room”. He had a wonderful knack of timing the ball, which had a great deal to do with his success as a batsman. He was not much of a cutter – those who set themselves out for a driving game seldom are – still, he had a good hard cut past cover-point, which he often made use of. The on-drive was his best hit, and he was also noted as a leg-hitter. He appeared at Lords in 1850, and I believe was engaged by Clarke for the All England Eleven at the end of the following year, with which he remained until Clarke’s death, and continued to play under the captaincy of George Parr, when he succeeded to Clarke’s office. ‘Juley’ was a first-rate boxer, and exceedingly fond of the noble art. He was of a peculiarly nervous temperament, and, laughable as it may appear, was always afraid of sleeping in a room by himself in a strange hotel, for fear someone might have died in it at some time or other…”
He then relates the story of Julius’s fear of fire and how he rang the bell violently in their hotel in Hereford, rousing the whole house (see above). Caffyn continues:
“As I said before, ‘Juley’ was of a very peculiar temperament, being always very elated when successful, and terribly dejected after getting a small score. Both ‘Juley’ and George Parr used to make a point of taking a certain amount of liquor before retiring to rest when they were in the thick of the cricket season. Once, it is said, they each agreed to lessen the quantity by half. They were both unsuccessful on the following day, but nevertheless agreed to give their new regime a trial the following night; but alas! the result was the same as on the previous day – viz., small scores in both cases. “George”, said ‘Juley’ to the famous leg-hitter as he came into the Pavilion without having troubled the scorer, “It is evident that we must take our usual quantity tonight.” “Right you are, my lad,” promptly replied ‘George’, “and we’ll make up for what we went short of last night and the night before as well!”
Not only did Julius play for the Surrey team during the 1850s, but he also played regularly for William Clarke’s All-England XI. The players travelled all over the country, and during the 1851 season they played 35 matches – in fact, the last 14 were played in 8 weeks! Somehow Julius and the other players managed to survive all the travelling, but Clarke paid badly – only some 4 to 6 per week – and the players were required to cover their own expenses! In September 1852, a meeting of rebels, indignant at the way they had been treated, decided they would never play for him again. So came into being the United England Eleven, in opposition to Clarke’s outfit. But Julius remained loyal to Clarke and continued to appear for the team on a regular basis for another ten years, finally withdrawing his allegiance when he joined the United South team in 1864.
In 1853, now aged 23, Julius made his first appearance for England. He was not terribly successful, but in August he was selected again, to play against Kent at the Canterbury ground. Batting at number 5, he completed a brilliant innings to score 101. His score was the highlight of an England total of 324. England were the winners by an innings and 179 runs. At this time in his career, Julius was landlord of the “Cricketers” beerhouse in Godalming; however, his applications in 1853 and 1854 for a spirit licence were unsuccessful.
But, according to Caffyn, “for one who played so much first-class cricket, Caesar was the worst thrower I ever met. Oh, the looks of unspeakable rage I have seen poor Tom Lockyer bestow on him when ‘Juley’ dashed the ball in so far out of reach as to cause an over-throw. I shall never forget, too, his once having an excellent chance of running-out a batsman from cover point. ‘Juley’ fielded the ball as brilliantly as could have been desired, and threw it towards the wicket with great force, but instead of going into Lockyer’s hands, it unfortunately struck poor old Clarke – who was at point – smartly between the shoulder-blades. “Confound you, you clumsy idiot!” yelled the infuriated veteran, turning savagely on poor ‘Juley’. “I don’t believe you could hit a haystack broadside if you stood ten yards from it!”
On August 25 1856, William Clarke died at his London home. George Parr took over as secretary and captain of the All-England XI, and soon organised the election of a new management committee, to which Julius was elected as one of the members. During 1857, the All-England XI played two matches against their arch rivals, the breakaway United England XI. The AEE won both matches, the first by 5 wickets, and the second by 133 runs.
In 1859, Julius was selected to play in the first England team to tour overseas – to Canada and the United States – which departed from Liverpool aboard the ‘Nova Scotia’ on September 7. George Parr assembled a very powerful professional side, which included six players from each of the All-England XI and the United England XI, and they won their five matches very easily. The team included Parr, Lillywhite, Diver, Caffyn, Lockyer, Hayward, Carpenter, Wisden, Jackson, Caesar and Stephenson. It was during this trip that Julius found himself facing a revolver! Richard Daft related the incident:
“There was then not such good feeling between the Old Country and America as there is at the present time, and ideas of revolvers and bowie knives were indulged in by the Englishmen, probably without the slightest foundation. George Parr, the most nervous of men, resolved to make himself very agreeable to the Yankees; and during the whole of his sojourn in the States he did nothing but laud everything American and decry everything English. Caesar did the same; but unfortunately getting one night to a bar where London porter was sold, he managed to pick a quarrel with one of the natives, and, after a good deal of strong language, threatened to punch the Yankee’s head if he would but step outside.
The American told him that sort of thing was not in his line, but said, “Here is my card!” and at once held the muzzle of a revolver close to Julius’s nose; he was terribly alarmed, and immediately began to make friendly overtures to the American, pretending to treat the whole affair as a joke, and presently succeeded in smoothing matters over. He, however, took the earliest opportunity of getting out of the place, when he fled like the wind to his hotel, fancying that he could feel at every corner he turned a bullet in some part of his body, as he said afterwards. “The first Yankee I meet on British ground,” said Julius the next day, “I will give a hiding to, if I get three months for it.”
Presumably we shall never know whether Julius fulfilled his wish. Each man made 90 from the tour, a useful sum in those days. In 1861-62, the first England side was selected to visit Australia, under the captaincy of HH Stephenson of Surrey. However, it was not a particularly representative team since many players (including Julius) refused to go. They were unhappy with the terms, but in 1863 George Parr took out a much stronger side which included Julius. They set sail aboard Brunel’s ‘SS Great Britain’ from Liverpool on October 15 1863, arriving in Australia 63 days later. They played a total of 14 games in Australia and 5 in New Zealand, all against 22 man sides, but were undefeated throughout. Each man received 250, a considerable sum for a professional sportsman.
Once again, the tour was not without its incidents. William Caffyn was also in the England team and recorded the following story from the tour:
“On the evening of the 7th April (1864), we went aboard t
e steamer ‘Wonga Wonga’ bound for Melbourne, after a farewell luncheon in Sidney. When we had got a few miles outside the ‘heads’, we were in collision with a small vessel called ‘The Viceroy’. We were at tea when this occurred, and were much alarmed when we felt the shock of the collision. The little Viceroy was sunk almost immediately. A boat was lowered, and we succeeded in saving the crew. Poor George Parr was dazed and paralysed with alarm. Tarrant quite lost his head – rushed down below to get a collection of curios – then when the boat was lowered, he tried to get into it, and was told by the sailors to keep out of the way, in no very choice language. Julius Caesar, on the other hand, behaved in a manner worthy of his name, keeping very cool and collected, and doing all he could to assist the crew. It being quite dark, our situation was no very enviable one… as it was some time before we could make out the extent of the injust to our own vessel. We had a considerable number of ladies aboard, most of whom were naturally very excited and nervous. We had a good laugh afterwards at old Jackson – he had done very well at the farewell luncheon, and went fast asleep. We found him sleeping peacefully when the excitement was all over. Soon we were on the way back to Sidney, and he had not the least idea that anything had happened. We put back to Sidney for repairs (where our arrival caused the greatest astonishment). We were not able to start again till two days later. Mosquitoes were so troublesome on the voyage to Melbourne, that we had to sleep on deck – and caught bad colds. Some piece of machinery gave way a few miles from our destination, and caused a further delay of several hours. Eventually we arrived at Melbourne at about 2 am on April 11th.”
Back in England in the Summer, Julius made his highest score (132 not out against Sussex at Hove in July, 1864). ‘The Sporting Life’ said it was ‘as finely a played and truly artistic innings as we have had the pleasure of witnessing for a very long time.’
Unfortunately for Julius, however, at the peak of his success as a cricketer, things started to go badly wrong for him. He liked to go shooting and was apparently a very good shot, according to Caffyn. But on October 18 1865, whilst engaged on a pheasant shoot near Godalming, he accidentally let off his gun whilst negotiating a stile. The charge of shot shattered the spine of a beater, William Foster, who died several hours later. Julius was inconsolable. According to Caffyn, “Poor ‘Juley’ was in a terrible way; and I truly believe his mind never got over the shock till the day of his death.”
The shock undoubtedly affected his cricket. After two shaky seasons of occasional appearances, he retired as a professional player in August 1867. He began trading from his home in Godalming as a cricketing outfitter, but the offer of a rewarding job in 1872 promised to secure him a much brighter future. He took up the post of cricket professional at Charterhouse School, which had recently moved there from London. In addition to his duties as coach and groundsman, he was also appointed official supplier of all cricketing materials to the school. But Julius was not to enjoy the benefits of his new career for long.
In 1874, he lost his wife, Jane from cancer. Two years later, on October 3 1876, the body of his second son, Julius Jnr. was found on the railway line between Guildford and Godalming – he was 17. The subsequent inquest revealed that letters found on the mangled body included one to his father from ‘your unfaithful son’ and made references to his girlfriend, whom he had ‘ruined’. The inquest jury decided that Julius junior had thrown himself in front of a train and returned a verdict of ‘suicide while of unsound mind.’
Julius, racked with grief, never recovered from the pain of his son’s death. Of particular poignancy was the knowledge that young Julius was a very good cricketer and likely to make the grade as a professional. Julius rapidly declined, drinking more than was good for him and gradually sank into poverty. The President of Surrey CCC, Frederick Marshall initiated an appeal on his behalf, declaring that Julius, once a ‘plucky, straightforward, honest man, full of fun,’ was now in ‘the depths of poverty’ caused by ‘illness and family troubles.’
In his last years, Julius lodged at the Railway Tavern in Godalming, where he died on March 5 1878 at the age of 47. He was buried in Godalming Cemetery in Deanery Road, but no headstone marks his grave.
‘The Sporting Life’ summarised his life and contribution to cricket, adding that ‘a series of unlooked-for misfortunes, coupled with bad health and domestic affliction, broke up the once strong and jovial-hearted man.’
Julius Caesar was undoubtedly one of the early cricket ‘greats’ who played his part in popularising the game before it achieved the widespread following which developed soon after his death. He was a complex character, who experienced ‘highs’ and ‘lows’ in his general temperament, but who was well liked by his fellow players. Unfortunately, a series of personal tragedies, beginning with the shooting accident in 1865, eventually destroyed him which is sadly reflected in his premature death. Nevertheless, he made an important contribution to the early development of the game of cricket, and he should be remembered for his part in that.
Bibliography
‘Seventy-seven Not Out’ by W. Caffyn ‘Kings of Cricket’ by Richard Daft (1893)
‘Godalming Cricket 225 not out’ by PJ Mayne (Godalming Cricket Club,1992)
‘The English Cricketers Trip to Canada and the United States in 1859’ by Fred Lillywhite (1860)
‘The tragedy of Julius Caesar’ by Geoffrey Amey (1980)
Article in cricketing journal “Is yours an SS Great Britain Family?”
Full passenger lists of all 14,000 people who travelled on the England-Australia route between 1852 and 1875.

The Life of John Allin Linfield
I’ve always said that Dad was born in the wrong century. He would have been a great Courier de Bois, back in the early seventeen hundreds. He lived for hunting and shooting. He loved the outdoors, canoeing, tenting, opening new hunting frontiers in Northern Ontario and telling “windies” with his hunting partners. But all this came about after a hard existence on a small farm in Southern Ontario.
Dad was born on July 2nd, 1910, on a small farm outside of a small hamlet called “The Nile” (notice it’s “The” Nile, not Nile. I’ve never heard it called anything but The Nile. You never hear of The Goderich or The London or The Stratford (45 miles east of Goderich). However, the sign at the town limits says “Nile”, but maybe the sign makers don’t know any better). The Nile is located 6 miles north east of the Port of Goderich. (Dad’s sister, Ann, was also born there in September, 1913.) Dad’s father, JOHN PETTON LINFIELD (August 3, 1872 – June 5, 1945), along with his father SAMUEL LINFIELD (September 12, 1839 – February 19, 1913), and the rest of his family, moved from Twillingate, Newfoundland around 1878 to settle on the farm site. Samuel was the second child of George Edward Linfield (February22, 1817 – ? 1898) who was the third child of Robert Linfield #2219 (? 1774 – January 18, 1860) who migrated to Newfoundland from Marnhull, England in 1793 (see Longshot Vol 4 No 2 December, 1995). Samuel farmed the land as did John. During his lifetime on the farm, John held the position of assessor for the township for many years, and for fifteen years, was secretary and treasurer of school section No. 1, Colborne. Dad’s mother was ANNIE SARAH ALLIN, daughter of WILLIAM ALLIN and DIANA ASHTON. Annie’s brother WESLEY ALLIN was well known in Huron county for his awesome strength. I remember a story Dad told me about a barn raising. Three men were struggling with a major structural beam and Wesley brushed them aside and lifted the beam by himself! Dad inherited some of the Allin strength as I’ve seen him take some stupendous lifts.
The red brick school house where the farm kids from the Nile, Carlow, and Dunlop area of Colborne Township went to school, was about five miles from the Linfield farm; a long walk, especially in winter. This is snow-belt country and I remember driving these back concession roads with snow banks six to eight feet high. If you met an oncoming vehicle, someone had to back to the nearest farm laneway as the snowplough could keep only one lane open. One of Dad’s chores upon entering the school in winter was to fill the wood burning stove at the rear of the school with dry wood and make it thump. By the time the rest of the kids arrived, the one room school house was acceptably warm.
Unfortunately, Dad’s mother died when he was only seven or eight. His father’s sister, GRACE HARRIETT LINFIELD (May 16, 1880 – June, 1966) came to live with her brother and his two children, young John and Ann, to take care of them. She remained for approximately three years, leaving when John remarried as he needed some one more permanent to help raise his two children. The stepmother, MARY RAYMOND, despised children! This was soon obvious from the way she treated Dad and Ann, particularly Dad. Dad would never say too much about her, but I learned from talking to neighbouring farmers that she would beat Dad about the legs with a broom handle on any pretence.
While growing up on the farm, Dad eventually acquired a .22 calibre rifle and a double barrel 12 gauge shotgun. At every opportunity, he would be out shooting groundhogs (which he sold to a local mink rancher for a few pennies each) and wild game birds to supplement the food larder on the farm.
When the time was right, Dad left the farm as a young man and moved into Goderich. He tried various jobs before his professional career began. He dug graves in the Colborne Cemetery, assisted in harvesting farmers’ crops at a dollar a day and had a milk route utilizing a horse drawn wagon. During these start-up days, he never stopped hunting. He became well known in the hunting community as a leader of hunting groups. By now, he was known as “Al” Linfield. His two hunting buddies from local farms were Harvey Baxter and Joe Freeman. I have a photograph of the three of them standing in hunting regalia holding shotguns and bagged Canada Geese. Eventually, Dad and Harvey obtained a lessee’s license to operate a Shell Canada gasoline service station on Kingston Road, in Goderich. They specialized in vehicle lubrication, replacement autoparts and tire repairs. Dad always found time to hunt and would organize jack rabbit hunts, deer hunts and the local farmers would notify Dad whenever a flock of ducks or geese flew into their cornfield or wheat stubble in the evening. Dad would be out there at the crack of dawn and come back with his daily quota before opening for business.
Around 1937, Dad met my future mother. VELMA MARY BROWNLEE was a beauty and a real catch for a handsome young man like Al Linfield. Dad taught “Vel” how to shoot his .22 rifle, but at targets only. On June 30, 1939, Al married Vel in Goderich in a double ceremony (Velma’s sister Mabel married Tom Gray) and honeymooned in Niagara Falls. Over the years, they raised four sons; WILLIAM JOHN (known as Bill), born August 12, 1940; yours truly (known as Jerry) born February 10, 1943, BRIAN BROWNLEE, born July 15, 1949 and BRENT MICHAEL, born April 30, 1952.
Over time, Dad became a crack rifle shot. He could take three flat rocks, throw them up in the air and pulverize them with three shots from his .22 rifle which he called “Betsey Ann”. As a youth, I watched Dad throw a pebble the size of his thumb nail up in the air and send it flying with one shot. I possess a large one cent coin (pre 1921 vintage) that has a hole in it made from Betsey Ann after Dad sent it spinning through the air. Dad continued his hunting and became exceedingly well known in Huron County for his hunting exploits.
Besides hunting upland game, Dad also hunted pigeons for food. He and friends would drive to a farm where pigeons were sitting on the barn roof, get permission from the farmer to shoot some, throw stones at the birds to make them fly off the roof and commence to shoot them in flight. He always offered the farmer a share of the downed pigeons. One story Dad told repeatedly was the day a farmer’s son gave Dad’s hunting party permission to shoot the pigeons providing he could join in the shoot. Dad immediately agreed. The young man went into the farm house to get his double barrel shotgun, came out, loaded it and immediately shot at the pigeons while they were still sitting on the barn roof. When he turned around to receive Dad’s praise, all he saw was the dust of Dad and his party! The son answered solely to his Father for the dozen or so holes in the corrugated tin of the barn roof!
In those early days before urban sprawl and excessive land clearing, Dad would often go out at night to locate deer herds for the next day’s deer hunt. He told me some apple orchards would have as many as 50 deer in munching away on apples. Today, those orchards are long gone, replaced by subdivisions or ploughed fields.
By the early 1950s, Dad met and became a life long friend of Rollie Day of London, Ontario. Rollie was a salesperson for storm windows and siding and had dropped into Dad’s Service Station looking for business. Naturally, the talk turned to guns and hunting and the two found out they had something besides business in common. Dad and Rollie would head north every fall for either a deer or moose hunt. They literally trail blazed parts of Northern Ontario in their search for new hunting grounds. At one time, Dad shot the largest deer ever bagged in the Kapaskasing area. The local police chief gave Dad and Rollie a hero’s welcome and paraded them through the town along with the trophy deer.
At one point, Dad and Rollie actually constructed a cabin-cruiser like boat to take moose hunting into parts of Ontario’s undisturbed north. They named the boat the “Ottawasian” and I have a picture of the boat with a large bull moose head mounted on the bow. When they bagged that animal and drove through the small rural Ontario towns coming home, people actually thought the complete moose was standing in the boat. Dad and Rollie would live in the boat during their hunt. They had their propane coleman stove for cooking, a small wood stove for heat and bunks built for sleeping quarters. I remember having a ride in the Ottawasian with my brother Bill from our cottage beach property north of Goderich at Shepardton to Goderich harbour. Bill turned a few shades of green by the time we reached Goderich.
When I was in Secondary School, I would skip school, much to my teachers’ annoyance, for two weeks every fall and operate Dad’s Service Station/Tire Shop (more of this later on) so Dad and Rollie could head north once again. Usually, they were successful in bagging a moose and came back with some vivid and embellished stories of their hunt.
Unfortunately, Rollie eventually succumbed to cancer and went to the “Happy Hunting” ground. Since Rollie was from London, 60 miles south of Goderich, Dad and Rollie’s hunting excursions were infrequent, other than their annual fall hunt. Over the years, Dad had made friends with the Taylors who resided in The Nile. Anyway, Stewart Taylor was a blacksmith, metal/wood worker and could make literally anything with his hands. He was also a hunter of local fame. Dad and Stewart would arrange deer hunts every fall. Following Rollie’s death, they would go moose hunting together, complementing each other as two experienced hunters. They also did a lot of hand reloading. Dad was always trading in old guns, primarily those of the 1880’s vintage. They bought original hand reloading tools, melted lead and made the bullets and experimented with the guns. Dad could quote ballistics better than anyone around.
When I was sixteen, Dad and Stewart invited me to join their deer hunting party for a local hunt. It was “shotgun” season only for which you used slugs. On day three, I was fortunate enough to be at the right place at the right time and bagged two deer. When the party gathered together to do the eviscerating, Dad’s eyes caught me and they spoke volumes. I remember someone saying “he’s a chip off the old block!”. That was one of the proudest days of my life! Needless to say, Dad was also extremely proud.
I also recall getting up early Sunday mornings with my brother Bill and Dad and heading out to a local trout stream or creek. We’d quietly approach the murmuring waters, bait the hook and lightly cast the worm into a overhang. The redwing blackbirds would be trilling and we’d stand perfectly still. We would take the occasional trout, but usually ended up with just a chubb.
Other times Dad would take Bill and me bass fishing on the Maitland river in a canoe. We had much better success on those expeditions. Most memorable were the spring smelt runs at Port Albert. Dad, Bill and I would leave Goderich about dark and when we arrived in Port Albert, there would be tires burning along the shore of the river and scores of people of all ages fishing with long handled scoop nets. We’d find our spot and scoop up the fast running smelt and empty the net into a potato sack. On a good night, we would get greedy and almost fill the sack. The next day, Bill and I would clean smelt until neither of us could look at another one. Then we’d take the remaining ones and try to find people to take them off our hands. We would never just throw them away. We always found willing takers. Then we would eat smelt for the next two or three weeks and say “never again!” Next spring, away we’d go again to Port Albert.
I especially remember the licorice we’d buy at the local general store. We’d call them plugs, named after chewing tobacco plugs. Bill and I would eat this licorice as we filled our potato sack. Two cents for a plug or one cent for a licorice pipe.
I should mention sucker fishing. Suckers are ugly and bony and are the darnest fish to scale. After a successful sucker fish, I ended up scaling and cleaning the suckers. For obvious reasons, Bill never assisted me. I’d get a short board, nail the suckers’ tail to the board, and start scaling. Scales would fly in every direction and I’d have more on me then the fish ever did! Then came the eviscerating. When I look back, I can see how much smarter my brother was than me. Boy, was I a sucker!

Al Linfield in about 1983
Enough of hunting and fishing for now. Going back to about 1952, Dad purchased property just across from his Shell Service Station and had his first “Shop” built for him. He was his “own man” now. No more being a lessee for Shell Canada. He learned the vulcanizing business which is almost a lost art today. He hired Hughy Davidson from the Benmiller area (a hamlet just south east of Goderich) and taught Hughy to vulcanize. Dad would drive all around Huron County to various service stations picking up tires (both car and truck) that needed vulcanizing and bring them back to his Shop. Then, he and Hughy would literally remake the tire through the vulcanizing process. The method involves cutting out the damaged part of the tire, rebuilding the cut out section using nylon or rayon reinforced rubber squares and gluing each square together, applying air pressure to the inside of the tire while being heated in the vulcanizing machine and having the added reinforced rubber repair melted under pressure to form part of the original tire. Thus, you have a permanent repair. Dad also repaired car batteries, sold sports equipment, and replaced muffler and exhaust parts of vehicles. From that shop, he moved into his own Tire Shop in the village of Saltford, just north of Goderich. There, he sold tires, vulcanized tires and tubes, pumped shell gasoline again and sold confectioneries. During our high school day, my brother Bill and I worked at the Tire Shop each night after school, weekends from 7:00 am to 11:00 pm, and every day through out the summer holidays. We became very proficient at changing car, truck, tractor and grader tires and we both learned to vulcanize tubes. We left the tire vulcanizing to Dad.
From Saltford, Dad bought larger premises in Goderich and brothers Brian and Brent followed Bill’s and my footsteps in working at the Shop. Following a double hernia operation (from lifting all those tires for years) Dad retired in 1973. None of his sons wanted to continue in the tire/service station business preferring to do our “own thing”. Bill was a school teacher and retired in 1994 from a Principal’s position. I had joined the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce in 1962 and today I manage the Bank’s Insurance Department in Head Office, Toronto. Brian is a computer programmer and Brent works part-time in a law office in London.
In 1977, my wife Marie and I had the opportunity to buy a cottage on six acres on Georgian Bay. Over the years, Dad and I built a 16 ft by 20 ft shed (with the help of brother Bill), replaced the roof of the cottage (with the help of brother Brian), built a wrap-around front deck, and a privy, even though we had hot and cold running water. Dad always said every cottage must have an outhouse. Dad even supplied an old walnut toilet seat. To this day, the privy, built in 1984, has yet to be christened. Dad had gained a great deal of carpentry experience through out his life and the cottage improvements reflect his abilities. Dad and Mom had purchased a 16 ft travel trailer shortly after retirement and they stayed in this when helping me at the cottage. Every summer, Dad eagerly anticipated a new cottage project. I took Dad fishing, along with my son, at every opportunity.
In 1983, I was able to reciprocate in the hunting department by taking Dad moose hunting to a fly-in hunting camp. We had a successful hunt bagging a bull moose. Dad and I went duck and grouse hunting after the moose was shot and I have some very prized pictures of the two of us in the northern bush. Then in 1984, I invited Dad along with my son Kevin to go deer hunting near our cottage. K
vin was 16 and shot his first deer on that hunt. I have a picture of Dad, myself and Kevin with the trophy. Three generations of deer hunters! That hunt sure brought back memories to my first deer hunt. I told my son that he was a “chip off the old block”. I was so very proud of him!
On August 24, 1985, Dad died after an eighteen month bout with cancer. He loved the life he pursued. He will always be remembered as a great hunter. I’m sure he and Rollie share the same camp site and tell the same stories in the “Happy Hunting Ground”!