Visiting 'De Sierkan'

A tour lasted 24 days and lunch and tea were brought to the field by Rolls Royce. The first decades of the Flamingo's existence would make a beautiful British drama series. With a good dose of humour!

When the teams of the Prisoners of War entered the Dutch cricket world at the end of the First World War, it soon became apparent that they were virtually unapproachable. While they stayed here, those eager to learn among the native cricketers would soak up their lessons. After their departure, they were somewhat sobered up to be back on their own two feet again. Their cricket education had come to a premature end.

To resume that education, a group of Dutch cricketers travelled to England in the summer of 1920. For most of them, the English conditions were completely strange and demoralizing. 

What huge fields and what rock-hard balls! Aldershot and The Household Brigade achieved easy and resounding victories. Good Dutch cricketers turned out to be no match for simple English club players.

The following year the Dutch went again and again, but not as disgracefully as the year before. There was a general feeling that regular contact with the British would bring benefits in the long term. In the summer of 1921, Cricket Touring Club de Flamingos was born, a name coined by Ir. A.A. Breeder (HCC). In the Grand Hotel in London, a handful of enthusiastic Dutchmen vowed to do their part to push patriotic cricket into the ranks of nations. First Secretary Tonny de Beus began energetically, and immediately invited the Free Foresters, an invitation that was accepted.

Over the years, the Flamingos would make a huge contribution to the development of cricket in our country. But at least as important as performance, was the atmosphere around their matches. Fortunately, it has been recorded.

The unpublished memories of Jan van den Bosch

In the Netherlands they are scarce, in England you are bored to death with them: an autobiography of every slightly more than mediocre player always appears during or after his career. Some write it themselves, others hire a ghostwriter, but the difference between the end results is usually not that great. With a few exceptions, autobiographies are not particularly pleasant reading material. They contain many facts and a few anecdotes, there is a lot of incense and little wormwood and gall. Fortunately, not every cricketer is caught by writer's block when he scrutinizes his career. Jonkheer Jan van den Bosch, for example, had no fear of writing when he looked back on his cricket career. His memories of the tours to England, which he made with The Flamingos around 1930, make particularly entertaining reading.

It was "a mixed bag" that travelled to England in those years to take cricket lessons. One of the most remarkable participants in these expeditions was undoubtedly Willem the Duke Eigeman, who from 1898 to 1933 roamed the Dutch and English fields. For a game of the Flamingo's B-team, against Lensbury CC, he took the much younger Van den Bosch aside for a "tactical running" class and "watch out". Take it easy was his motto, then nothing can happen to you. It soon became apparent that this would turn out differently.

“I (JvdB) would take the first pitch. Apparently from a fast bowler, at least the good man was halfway through the screen before his run-up, constantly digging into the ground with his shoes like a nervous racehorse just before the start. The first ball I received was very fast, I saw nothing of it. I did feel the familiar tap on the edge of my bat and the ball sailed to first slip, a real sitter. But first slip had come home late the night before and took the ball full on his thumb. As he jumped around in pain, hurling some highly original curses into the wind, I stood expressing my utmost joy in the usual batsman fashion, like ‘I'm so sorry’ and ‘Bad luck indeed’.

But my relaxation was short-lived. Suddenly I felt the earth tremble beneath my feet as if a herd of elephants were storming and I heard a roar like a lion. Turning around in alarm, I saw the Duke standing in front of me, bellowing "Run, run, dude!" In sheer desperation, I started running, with Eigeman, who had apparently changed his mind, in my wake. One of the fielders had grabbed the ball by now and threw it at the bowler. However, he appeared to have been out together with the first slip, so he could not see so well in the early morning. He got the ball rock hard on his shin and started dancing a wild tango, complementing his colleague's swearing arsenal in a dignified and beautiful way.

It was then that the Duke and I crossed the finish line, a dead heat was later the decision of the judges. In my haste, I bumped into the bowler and, accidentally of course, kicked him in the other shin. This was too much for him. Groaning, he fell to the ground. At the keeper's roar of "here, here" mid-off picked up the ball and hurled it towards the wicket. Eigeman and I were on our way back there by now and although the Duke initially had a slight lead over me due to a false start, I caught up with him halfway through the pitch. The keeper had apparently been the Dritte im Bunde the night before, at least he picked the wrong one of the five or six balls he saw coming towards him, allowing the real ball to whir past him. And since no one was covering him, the projectile flew unimpeded over the boundary for four. Eigeman, completely out of breath, went back to his wicket, in the meantime muttering something about pepper that had to be put somewhere in between!”

"Well sir, what about this leather hunting?"

When Eigeman took part in the Flamingo tours, he was already at a fairly advanced age. It was therefore obvious that he be appointed guardian-mentor of the then still young Wim "Pieper" Glerum. Incidentally, he was not easy to keep in check, as became apparent during the tour of 1929. In that year things did not go well for the Flamingos. Especially against the teams of cricket patron Sir Julien Cahn (for the Flamingos "the Sierkan") high totals were collected, so the English newspapers spoke unflatteringly about ‘real leather hunting.’

Things got better later in the tour against The Free Foresters. After a very bad start, there was still a high total on the board, partly because the rather elderly English could not withstand the heat and missed easy catch opportunities here and there. The big man behind their team, Lt. Col A. C. Johnston, had heartburn from it and looked bitterly at his men over lunch.

Enter Wim Glerum. He came in with a sunny look, served himself generously from the cold buffet, positioned himself in front of the Colonel and said clearly audible to everyone, ``Well sir, what about this leather hunting? '' Johnston blushed, and immediately after lunch appointed himself umpire, subsequently giving a good number of Flamingos lbw. It is not known what Glerum's comment was.

The most remarkable event that Van den Bosch experienced during the tours did not take place against the Foresters, but against the Derbyshire Friars, a match that was played on their enormous county ground. Van den Bosch, who sat high above the field in the box next to the scorer to observe the honours for the Flamingos, had to use binoculars to follow the events. During Glerum's batting turn, he suddenly saw the umpire, a little chap with a gigantic moustache, lying on the floor, to which his fellow scorer said: "Your man is out". Only after his explanation did Van den Bosch understand what had happened. The umpire was a war invalid with a wooden leg and only one arm. If he wanted to give someone out, the hand with which he held his stick had to be lifted, causing him to lose his balance. So, if he was in a horizontal position, the scorer knew what had happened.

Sir Julien Cahn was heir to the Nottingham Furnishing Company and built the company into an empire that made him very wealthy. Cricket was his great passion from an early age.

Sir Julien Cahn's ironclad teams

The name Julien Cahn (1882-1944) has already been mentioned and needs some explanation. He didn't have any talent for the game himself, but he liked to watch it and, when he was in his mid-forties, decided to create his own Cricket XI. To provide them with an ideal playing environment, he had two beautiful pitches constructed: one in West Bridgford near Nottingham and one at his Stanford Hall estate. Rarely did a weekend go by without an interesting two-day event being played on one of them.

Cahn engaged very strong players for the teams that bore his name and entertained the opponents so generously that they quickly let the sharp edges loosen. For his own cricketers, he was not an easy employer. One of his key players, Tommy Reddick, had seen the world as a cricketer, but claimed he had never had a more bizarre connection than the one with Sir Julien. At the start of his employment, he was occasionally kept out of the team and so he secretly went to Worcestershire for a friendly there. That was not well received by Cahn, but he still gave Reddick a few more chances, although under the strict condition that he would be present at every match. Reddick found that when he played, he faced not only Test Match-class opposition, but also his fellow players who, as a newcomer and competitor, were only too happy to run him out. It was a cut-throat business where anything was allowed.

"You have no idea of the strain we played under"

Sir Cahn’s cricketers knew all too well that they could be sure of their job when they played well, but that they flew out of the window when things went wrong. "You have no idea of the strain we played under," said Reddick, reviewing his career. One match particularly helped him. In a flying storm, a redheaded bowler of the opposing team let the ball swing in all directions. Tommy had no idea and was quickly out. He was succeeded by Cecil Maxwell, one of the most gifted batsmen Reddick had ever seen, but who also loved rap. And he had said to Sir Julien just before going in, "Don't worry, leave this job to me.” Sir Julien was not amused, called over his right-hand man Lofty Newman and said, “Maxwell and Tommy Reddick will never play for my team again.” Annoyed by the unexpected defeat, Sir Julien promptly left for Monte Carlo, where his mood improved considerably due to his luck at the gaming table. He was back in time for the next match and had forgotten the incident completely.

Another notable event involved Denys Morkel and his best friend John Hall. Morkel went through a bad period, which is why he was quite upset. Would Sir Julien hire him for next season? At the end of each season, his boss would go through the score book to see how everyone had done. Morkel's chances were not good, so he hatched a bold plan with his friend. At two in the morning, when everyone was sound asleep in their luxurious rooms at a beach hotel, Morkel and Hall slipped into the cricket pavilion, forced the door, and snatched the Cahn XI score book. They ran to the beach and threw the book into the waves. Needless to say; the next morning all were bewildered by the book's disappearance! Sir Julien now had no written source with which to decide who should stay and who should go. Denys Morkel stayed.

If you took the field against the Cahn XI, it was a luxurious experience. Jan van den Bosch remembered it like this: It already started on arrival at the station in Nottingham, where all the secretaries and treasurers of Sir Cahn were in black. We drove in some Rolls Royce’s to the famous Black Boy Hotel. There we were given beautiful rooms, as well as being told that we were the guests of the Sierkan up to an amount of 5 shillings for food and drinks per person.

The first evening things went wrong, since Eigeman simply did not accept this. Seated in the stately dining room and dressed in full cricket outfit plus Flamingo blazer, he loudly ordered the most expensive champagne on behalf of our lord of the castle. After quickly enlisting two bottles, he took to the street most satisfied. Half an hour later, however, he was brought home again by a nervous police officer, after being found - still in the costume described above - at one of the busiest points in the city, giving a speech about the banking system in the Netherlands. Such were our manners. At the castle itself, Cahn proved even more generous. 

The experience that the Flamingos enjoyed after a match would turn out to be worth the trip to England alone. Van den Bosch: “The food there was very good, the drinking was better, and the cigars were fine.” The art treasures were truly unique, only very curiously arranged. For example, there was a beautiful Rembrandt in the bicycle shed! During One evening the host lost his last savings on a horse racing game. They would press a button, after which the horses took off electrically on a track. He first let Cahn win a few races for fun, but when he thought he could take his chance he risked a large amount of cash, Willem van den Bosch cunningly short-circuited the lord's horse, so that within a few centimeters it suddenly stopped before the finish line. "All in the game," he said sympathetically, taking the money and disappearing in the direction of the cigars.

Tea, ice cream, cakes and sandwiches by Rolls Royc

The Flamingos also became acquainted with high society elsewhere. In 1933 they stayed in the gothic pleasure castle, Littlecote, of tobacco magnate Sir Ernest Wills. The wing where they stayed was a quarter of an hour’s walk from the rooms where the family slept. They were beyond a knight's hall full of rusty armour and guarded by a stuffed parrot. All transport was by Rolls Royce. Even the tea, ice cream, cakes and sandwiches were brought to the field by a Rolls. Lunch lasted from one to past three and was the size of a lavish promotional dinner. At the end there was a choice of two cakes, one with and one without whipped cream as well as two bottles (cognac and red port). After resuming on the field, there was a concert by the Horse Guards in parade uniform to revive life’s spirits.

There was also serious cricket

It wasn't all fun, of course. From time to time there was serious cricket and the Flamingos achieved good results, especially against weaker opponents. They often (just) fell short against the strong teams. 

A few examples from the 1930’s illustrate this. On July 16, 1932, The Flamingos played a great match at Lord's against MCC. Although their total of 158 on the hard, reliable wicket was a bit disappointing, it became a real match afterwards because notably Wim van den Bosch bowled like a devil (5 for 66). It was only the almost sixty-year-old cricket legend Plum Warner that he could not get out. 

He had the habit of looking at the umpire with a piercing gaze when an lbw appeal was directed at him, so that the man, made nervous by so much display of authority, could only stammer "er not out". Again, this tactic worked, so Plum could take the victory for his team with a controlled four. A team with cachet, because if Warner was almost on his last legs, crack players like Hubert Ashton and Thomas Mitchell were most certainly not.

A year later things were a little different on the sacred ground. Mitchell, in particular, got off to a good start with a spacious century (105) and the other MCC’ers also contributed, so  captain Keigwin could close at 236 for 6. Then came The Flamingos, who, to the dismay of the quite large audience, were very careful and played, far from ready (154 all out).

More improvement from a tour than from an entire competition

Many Flamingos who toured England in the 1930s appeared at Lords on August 14-15, 1939 for a game against MCC. This was an extraordinary event, as it was the first time since 1906 that an official Dutch national team played in England. Then W.G. Grace was still one of the opponents. Now the Netherlands would be able to compete against, among others, Percy Chapman, former captain of England. In an interview in the Haarlems Dagblad on 28 July, Broer Sodderland was pessimistic about their chances. 

Dutch cricket had found itself in a dip after the departure of Wim van den Bosch and Willem Glerum. Fortunately, the Dutch national team could draw abundantly from the arsenal of the Flamingos, who had already toured England and were therefore used to the grass wickets, for the game at Lords. Perhaps they could ensure that the Netherlands would achieve an honourable result?

By the way, there needed to be much more international contact. An English tour of a week or two was more important for the improvement of the level of Dutch cricket than an entire competition. Thus spoke Sodderland and he was proved right. Although the spirit was good on Monday morning 14 August, partly due to a telegram from Wim Glerum who informed his mates, from Brazil, that he had every confidence in them, it soon became apparent that difficulties were imminent. 17 for 5 was not exactly a dream start. Only Willem Hans Gallois (26) and Arie Terwiel (18) then sputtered a bit, but a total of 98, scored in exactly one and a half hours, was very measly. 

Anyone who had expected a batting party from the MCC afterwards was very disappointed. Lomas and Cuthbertson took no chances and dragged through the afternoon. The Evening Standard was not amused and wrote sarcastically: “There was relief at Cuthbertson's retirement, such batting being no way to show the Dutch visitors the hidden beauties of our national game.” The audience had also accompanied his departure with mocking applause, happy to be rid of this stonewaller. Due to the brave bowling of Terwiel, Sodderland and Van Manen, the MCC did not achieve a mammoth total, but the 319 that came on the board proved sufficient for an innings victory, as the Netherlands did not get further than 165 in the second innings.

I'm going on a trip and I'm taking ...

If you want to know what was involved in a tour ninety years ago, you can read the tour brochures that accompanied each trip. For example, the one of 1930 offers fine reading.

Departure took place on Thursday, August 7, a cool day with a little drizzle. The party took the boat from the Me. Zeeland, which left Vlissingen at 1.20 pm and arrived in Harwich at 6.10 pm. From there they went by train to Ipswich where the night was spent in the Great White Horse Hotel.

The next day, they travelled on to Colchester for a two-day battle against the Colchester Garrison. The pitch had become soft due to the rain of previous days, but the field was otherwise good. In four hours, the English produced 248 runs, a number that, according to the Algemeen Handelsblad of August 9, 1930, could have been much higher if the Dutch had not fielded like tigers. 

The large audience then prepared for the Flamingos innings, which opened after a very elaborate tea, by Neuerburg and Van Manen who scored 19 and 31 runs respectively. When the battle was halted at 6.30, it could still go in any direction. The next day, the papers were silent in all languages, leaving us guessing as to the outcome of the match, but at least it was clear that The Flamingos were far from thrashed.

After matches against The Free Foresters, The Household Brigade and Mr. C. R. Anson’s XI they paid a visit to the fifth test match between England and Australia at The Oval, where free tickets were available from the Surrey board. There in London, the Dutch enjoyed beautiful batting by the famous English opening couple Hobbs and Sutcliffe, and an especially phenomenal exhibition by the fast-rising Australian star Don Bradman (232), who was only 21 years old at the time. After they had dined and drunk all the fine wine, the journey home began on August 31.

A summary of items the Flamingos had to take on tour can be seen under the heading "Equipment": 

• Flamingo blazer, cap, tie and pin.
• As many shirts, trousers and socks as possible (thick!)
• A pair of shoes with sharp spikes.
• A pair of spare shoes, preferably with rubber soles, for fielding on extra hard fields.
• Laces.
• Plasters, cotton wool and bandages.
• Camphor spirit, talcum powder, petroleum jelly, embrocation (rubbing agent) and Peru balsam or Goulard water (anti-inflammatory agent)
• Dinner suit 
• Money
• Passport.
• Travel ticket and program.

They did not go anywhere without ice cream available overnight and the trip did not go bankrupt either. A boat return, first class, cost 24 guilders and all hotel nights together cost 46.80.