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Hatfield Police Station 1946 -68

THE OLD POLICE HEADQUARTERS AT HATFIELD

INTRODUCTION

It is more than thirty-six years since I bade a fond farewell to the then, active
Headquarters at Hatfield, having completed a suggested layout for the new
garage to be built at Stanborough. I must say at this point that the building
closely followed the drawing hatched up by Mr. Belts and myself, and with a
row of windows in his upstairs office, so that he could see how the work was
going and, as it transpired, open a window to enquire", What's the mileage on
that car Joe?" when the fancy took him.

As I type these lines, it appears the fate of our old home is in the balance,
but since the Surveyor's building has bitten the dust whilst the Clothing and
other corrugated huts, disappeared some years ago it seems the fate of our end
of the triangle is unlikely to be long delayed. I think the only delay even now,
lies in the fact that it is a listed building dating back to 1883. So that this hurdle
must be overcome. I have quoted some of the happenings of those far off days
although I have doubts as to the number of people who will be able to recall
them.

I can only cover the last thirty years of the seventy seven during which it was
was gainfully employed, so I offer odd bits of comment picked up en route as it
were. One thing still in evidence even in 1928, lay in the strata of society to
which the policeman belonged. The fact that, on several occasions, I found
myself delivering a missive to the butler at the house of a Son of the House of
Lords, whereupon he would indicate his desire that I attend the kitchen and ask

Cook for a glass of beer. In fact, since beer is not my tipple, I invariably
scrounged, if that word is in order. A cup of tea and a lump of fruitcake. Bu1
there seemed to be a fixation that the pencil licking copper was a member of oi
polloi who lived on beer and bread and cheese. In fact, on race days at the
point to point, a pork pie and a bottle of beer may well have been delivered to
the man on point duty, without relief to attend the refreshment tent, for a proper
meal. Since the C. Cs of those days did not mingle with the body of the Force,
only saw Col. Law once when he came over to have a look at us before we left
H.Q. we were warned to be very careful how we treated those who were our
betters, i.e. the Mannerings and the Buckets upwards which left very little scope
for anyone unless he was a poor villain or a drunk. I took a drunken toff with a
car into the Station on one occasion and called the Police Doctor, who looked
at him, flipped out his tie, said, "What was your year", collected the blurred
answer. Turned to me and said,

" This man is not drunk, he is ill I will take him back to my surgery".

I caught the eye of my sergeant and his frown stopped me from fanning the air
suggestively and off they went, Sergt. Made a comment, which to day would
have been,"You win some, you lose some ", and marked up the O.B. "Released
to Doctor" .My Sergeant rose to top rank in later years and I moved in as his
neighbour but I never had the temerity to remind him of the one who got away.

The law for the rich, even in my early days was actually displayed to me
while still in civvies when I was ordered to go with a mounted man in a horse
and cart to a local estate to collect a load of logs for the wood burning stoves of
a large house. Now we had been through the gamut of Swine Fever, Foot and

Mouth, Anthrax, even Epizootic Lymphangitis whatever that may be, so that we
might the more readily cast an expert eye over the Himalays for the movement
of which we must issue a suitable license at the cattle market. So I was able to
realize that the large notice on the gate and the lad in blue with the boot
washing kit was not going to like any attempt to break and enter. But panic
not, we wiggled and waggled our way up a lane and through a gap in the hedge
until we reached the pile of logs.” Get Loading" my new Guano ordered as he lit
his pipe. " Suppose we are seen and reported", I queried,” You have a lot to
learn lad" he explained, laws are for us not them. So we finished loading and
left as we had entered, "We can't put our bloke in an awkward position”,

He explained, "What he doesn't see he can't talk about".

One day I had orders to pick up a Noble Lord who was one of the most

Impeccable of gentlemen and he sat, as always, with his feet in the glove
compartment of the Rover, his hands clasped round his knees, he refused to sit
in the back. "Tell me Sergeant" he began/’you live at the Police Station do you
not". "I do Sir, "And does that young wife of yours feed the prisoners?"

"Yes Sir", " She gets paid how much to provide and serve the meal?” Sixpence
Sir", and to search a woman prisoner?”“ The same  Sir". " I see, thank you

Sergeant"-The next day all Hell broke loose. I was ordered to take my
Guv'nor to H.Q. and the Chief who put a beady eye on me, " You exceeded

Your duty"," I did Sir? “. I queried"," For two pins I would dismiss you from, the
Force," "As you wish Sir", I was past caring and I knew my Father would not
be concerned anyway, his opinion of the Police in those days was not high.

"Wait outside, Yes Sir", I left them to it. I was recalled after a minute or so.

"You will not be sent to pick up any member of the Standing Joint Committee
in the future and you will not proffer your opinions to any of it's members at
any time if you wish to keep your rank." "Thank you Sir, I will obey your
instructions should they approach me". He waived me away,” Go and wait for
your Superintendent". I clicked my heals and left. "You are a lucky man
Sergeant”, said my boss when he joined me, I shook my head," He knew he
couldn't win on a false premise, as he was well aware I had no option but to
answer, and I suspect he has no doubt that I would be quite capable of making a
request for an interview with his Lordship"." You do stick your neck out boy,”
he answered and as "Boy" was back I knew we were in our usual place.

I cannot conceive the point of the fuss and bother for, if I am not mistaken,
the next payout rendered both items at nine pence instead of sixpence, in today’s
parlance "Big Deal". The foregoing item reminds me that we were honored by
the presence of the first woman constables in our class, not that we saw much
of them, in fact they paraded with us and then left for the C.Cs' Office where
they received special instruction, to which we were not privy.

Some years ago Neil Osborn, the son of P.C. George Osborn late
Superintendent and a brother officer of mine in those days, published a book
on” The Story of Hereford Police which gives a good idea of the days when the
Old Lady of Hatfield came into being, although Neil does not say so, I suspected
that her first sons still wore the top hats which were the official headgear for
those days. On only one thing can I suggest a reason not obvious to him? He
says that the amount of drunkenness not only in Herts, but also in most. If not all

Forces, is hard to explain. 1 would, if he and you, will permit me, point out that
tea was a drink of the rich and that in those days the poor, which included
policemen and my Grand folk drank large quantities of Near Beer at two pence
a gallon. Plenty dear enough out of seventeen pence a day wages, I may say that
I have seen the ancient ones of my own family in the days before the First War
sit down to produce from the allotment, sometimes a piece of rabbit and all
washed down with the best part of a quart jug of beer, I have no memories of
sweet stuff to follow although Gran would make us kids a sponge pudding with
black treacle over it. So that in view of all this, a walk round the patch and a
few pints of real ale at 4d a gallon from a grateful farmer or the like, is not hard
to envisage and may easily have pushed our man over the edge as I remember
in my day when the village man lost his wife and was consoled after the funeral
by the kindly villagers with a few glasses of the only solace known to the poor,
capable of drowning ones' sorrows.

So charge your glasses and drink to the memory of The Old Lady With the
Top Hatted Sons.