Thrybergh Ravenfield Dalton

South Yorkshire England

            Pronounced locally Thrybur  Old English Triberg

Webmaster John Doxey

Main Photos Jonathan Dabbs

Email John Doxey









Site Guide

Thrybergh Folk
Folk pre 15th Century
Folk pre 18th Century
Folk 18th Century
Folk 19th Century
Folk 20th Century
Folk of Note
James Ross
James Ross 2
James Ross 3
James Ross Poems
The Village Policemen
Womenfolk of Thrybergh
Womenfolk Page 2
Fred Kelly
Lol Foster
Fred Foster
Fred Foster 2
Fosters Staff
John Henry Green
The Drabble Family
The Drabble family 2
The French Family
The Willert Family
The Willert Family 2
The Willert Family 3
Stephen Pursehouse
The Beeden Family
Beeden's The Builders
Beeden Profiles
Roy Nixon
Thrybergh Players
South Family
Wheatcroft and Bisby
Rogers Family
Morgan Family
Geoff Walker
James Walker
George Hardy
John Doxey's Memories
John Doxey's Memories pg 2


History Early Times

Noble Families

Thrybergh Folk

Thrybergh Churches

Thrybergh Schools

Pubs and Clubs


Local Sport

Yorkshire Accent

Local Photos

We'ers Tha' Live

Helpful Pages

Rotherham Messages

Old Friends

Guest Book pg 3




Silverwood Mine

St Peters Conisbrough


Local Links





Looking every inch a policeman photographed possibly around 1890 is George Henry Hardy. It is not known if he served as an officer at Thrybergh but he did retire to the Village where he spent the remainder of his life. You can read the story of George here , the photos are placed on this page as a marvellous memory of how those early policemen appeared.



Photo courtesy Mick Carver


The police station above standing at the bottom of Oldgate Lane was constructed possibly around 1910 and served both Thrybergh and Dalton, where quite a few local residents were sometimes invited inside for bed and breakfast. Usually the invitation was offered around the local drinking establishments closing time, which was really sociable of the Officers extending such hospitality at such a late hour. Though more often than not they were cursed by their guest on the following morning as they made their way home. Though that would not compare with the tongue lashing these ungrateful guest would receive once they remembered where they lived and arrived home.

The first mention of local law officers was this little gem where we discover that even the local Law was not safe from theft and on the 28th September 1675 Thomas Nicholson, the constable of Thrybergh, made a statement about the theft of two of his geese.
The year 1881 found Sampson Sanderock Head M Male 45 North Putherwin, Devon, England Police Constable
Lydia Sanderock Wife M Female 43 St Stephens, Cornwall, England Police Constable Wife
Lydia Sanderock Neice Female 9 Lanivet, Cornwall, England Scholar


In 1891Francis Eke [ Ekre ] age 49 born in Norfolk was the Police Constable of Thrybergh, and had previously served in Rotherham. with him was his wife Charlotte, sons Harry J. G. Eke age 27 a Wagon repairer, and Albert Eke12 a Scholar. The family had a servant who was Leah South age 18 born at Sedgeley Staffs.


Jeannette Mabel Davies who lived on Abell Street from around 1922 recalls "The policeman around this time would, if there was any trouble on Whinney Hill, often hold back the crowds and let them get on with it rather than stop it."


In the 1930's Police Constable (Bobby) Calvert and Mrs Calvert lived with their children Gordon and Marjorie (Madge) at number 55 Oldgate Lane.


In the 1950's Bobby Buxton, a giant of a man with hands like coal shovels, his instant punishment was to swipe you with his wet oilskin cape and believe me that was NO fun .but as fair a man would be hard to find: [ Raye Kelly ]


Now at some stage there was a Constable Slater who had a leg broken during an incident on the coal tip at Silverwood, when he was trying to prevent some locals removing coal. Can anyone clarify this incident.


During the 1950's and early 60's Constable Mash lived on Gullingwood Dr. Thrybergh, a familiar figure riding around on his pushbike. I don't think there would be too many of us back then as kids who did not receive a warning from Constable Mash, and at times we were very lucky to get away with a warning, thankfully he was lenient in his approach to youngsters. Now when I hear the song "I shot the sheriff " by Eric Clapton I recall the time Constable Mash came close to being shot!


The names in the following story have been withheld to protect the guilty:

Three local lads about eleven years old at the time went to the area at the end of Vale Road, where a pathway led up to the railway line, it was a popular spot for youngsters to play. Today there are Bungalows there. One of the young boy's had sneaked out of the house with his older brothers airgun, an old Diana rifle which required you to unscrew the end off the barrel to insert a pellet. Now we  I mean they didn't have more than about 36 pellets which they took turns to fire at selected targets around the area. About halfway through the box of pellets the little curly haired kid who had provided the gun took aim at a can lodged in one of the bushes at the side of the pathway, he had no sooner fired than a policeman's helmet appeared around the bush, " Hey what the devil are you doing" roared the wearer of the said helmet. It was Bobby Mash!


Now to imagine the reaction from the boy's, and look on the boy's faces you would have recall the crowd scenes from disaster movies when the final moment of impending doom strikes, or scenes like the moment the aliens took out the White House in the movie Independence Day, a moment of shock, horror, and cold blooded fear, followed by blind panic, and then you run. Well  we  I mean they made it to the four shops on St. Leonard's Ave and stopped, a realization struck home, " He knows who we are, what shall we do", a moments consideration and a wise decision was reached, " We best go back"

Now the boy's had a second surprise, Bobby Mash was not in hot pursuit, he was not astride his bicycle peddling like mad, or blowing a whistle like the Keystone Cops, no not Bobby Mash, he was waiting at the scene of the crime for us to return, how smart was he!


"Lucky for you that you had the sense to come back" he remarked and then he gave us  them a real earful about what they had done. He then asked who the gun belonged to "It's me brothers" said the little curly haired kid. " Well you go home and tell your mother I'll be round to see her in half an hour" The little curly haired kid, head bowed, departed from the scene, a thousand and one thoughts racing through his brain. " I'll go to jail for this, just like they do in the movies, I'll be locked up in a prison cell wi' bars "n" everything.

Reaching home the boy told his mother what had happened, lets just say his mother was not impressed. Then came that knock on the door which sounded like the hangman testing his trap to the youngster who by this time was a shaking little blob. Much to his surprise Bobby Mash explained to his mother what had happened, then warned them both if he caught the boy with an airgun again he would take further action. Needless to say that airgun never left the house again, and Bobby Mash had at least one reprieved kid in the Village who thought he was the bee's knee's.


John Doxey


Do you have a memory of a local policeman why not send it in



Top Of Page Email John Doxey


I have no affiliation  with any Trade Union, Political body, or organization regarding the information on this site. All information on this site is Factual and correct to the extent of my knowledge. There is no intent to cause offence to any individual. Should you spot an error please let me know  and that error will be corrected.


This site is the result of over 7 years research, and compilation, should you wish to use any of the content for publication of literature please contact me. The poetry and life of James Ross, the story of St. Leonard's Cross, and other items on this site were compiled, and first published on this site in their present context as a study of Thrybergh. If you use this site as a source, out of courtesy, please give credit where it is due as I have done on this site where appropriate.
All text and pages as formatted and presented on this site Copyright John Doxey and may not be reproduced under any circumstances without consent. Photos, and information Copyright to Primary Sources where applicable