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-} - -.larger { - font-size: 150%; -} - -.pagenum { - position: absolute; - right: 4%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; -} - -.poetry-container { - text-align: center; - margin: 1em; - font-size: 0.9em; -} - -.poetry { - display: inline-block; - text-align: left; -} - -.poetry .stanza { - margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em; -} - -.poetry .verse { - text-indent: -3em; - padding-left: 3em; -} - -.poetry .indent1 { - text-indent: -2em; -} - -.poetry .indent3 { - text-indent: 0em; -} - -.poetry .indent6 { - text-indent: 3em; -} - -.poetry .indent10 { - text-indent: 7em; -} - -.right { - text-align: right; -} - -.smaller { - font-size: 80%; -} - -.smcap { - font-variant: small-caps; - font-style: normal; -} - -.smcapuc { - font-variant: small-caps; - font-style: normal; - text-transform: lowercase; -} - -.tdr { - text-align: right; -} - -.tdc { - text-align: center; -} - -.tdtop-pad { - padding-top: 1.5em; -} - -.tdi1 { - text-indent: 4em; -} - -.tdbottom { - vertical-align: bottom; -} - -.tdditto { - vertical-align: bottom; - text-align: center; -} - -.tdtotal { - border-top: thin solid black; -} - -.border { - border-left: thin solid black; -} - -.titlepage { - text-align: center; - margin-top: 3em; - text-indent: 0em; -} - -@media handheld { - -img { - max-width: 100%; - width: auto; - height: auto; -} - -img.dropcap { - display: none; -} - -.poetry { - display: block; - margin-left: 1.5em; -} - -ul { - display: block; - margin-left: 1.5em; -} - -.figleft { - display: block; - float: none; -} - -.figright { - display: block; - float: none; -} - -.blockquote { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 5%; -} -} - - hr.full { width: 100%; - margin-top: 3em; - margin-bottom: 0em; - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; - height: 4px; - border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ - border-style: solid; - border-color: #000000; - clear: both; } - </style> -</head> -<body> -<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Cricket Field, by James Pycroft</h1> -<p>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States -and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no -restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at <a -href="http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you are not -located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this ebook.</p> -<p>Title: The Cricket Field</p> -<p> Or, the History and Science of the Game of Cricket</p> -<p>Author: James Pycroft</p> -<p>Release Date: May 7, 2016 [eBook #52022]</p> -<p>Language: English</p> -<p>Character set encoding: UTF-8</p> -<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRICKET FIELD***</p> -<p> </p> -<h4>E-text prepared by MWS<br /> - and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> - (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br /> - from page images generously made available by<br /> - Internet Archive<br /> - (<a href="https://archive.org">https://archive.org</a>)</h4> -<p> </p> -<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10"> - <tr> - <td valign="top"> - Note: - </td> - <td> - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - <a href="https://archive.org/details/cricketfieldorhi00pycr"> - https://archive.org/details/cricketfieldorhi00pycr</a> - </td> - </tr> -</table> -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 415px;"> - -<img src="images/bowler.jpg" width="415" height="650" alt="" /> - -<p class="caption">H. Adlard sc.</p> - -<p class="caption larger">THE BOWLER.</p> - -<p class="caption"><i>William Clarke. The Slow Bowler & Sec’y to the All England Eleven.</i></p> - -<p class="caption">London. Longman, Brown, Green & Longmans.</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[i]</a></span></p> - -<p class="titlepage">THE<br /> -<br /> -<span class="larger">CRICKET FIELD:</span><br /> -<br /> -OR,<br /> -<br /> -<span class="larger">THE HISTORY AND THE SCIENCE</span><br /> -<br /> -OF THE<br /> -<br /> -<span class="larger">GAME OF CRICKET.</span></p> - -<p class="titlepage">BY<br /> -<br /> -THE AUTHOR OF “THE PRINCIPLES OF SCIENTIFIC BATTING,”<br /> -“RECOLLECTIONS OF COLLEGE DAYS,”<br /> -ETC. ETC.</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="poetry-container titlepage"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“Gaudet … aprici gramine campi.”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container titlepage"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse indent10">“Pila velox,</div> -<div class="verse">Molliter austerum studio fallente laborem.”—<span class="smcap">Hor.</span></div> -</div> -</div> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<p class="titlepage">SECOND EDITION.</p> - -<p class="titlepage">LONDON:<br /> -LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS<br /> -1854.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[ii]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container titlepage"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“’Twas in the prime of summer time,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">An evening calm and cool,</div> -<div class="verse">And five and twenty happy boys</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Came bounding out of school.</div> -<div class="verse">Away they sped with gamesome minds</div> -<div class="verse indent1">And souls untouched with sin;</div> -<div class="verse">To a level mead they came, and there</div> -<div class="verse indent1">They drove the wickets in.”</div> -<div class="verse right"><span class="smcap">Hood.</span></div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="titlepage"><span class="smcap">London</span>:<br /> -A. and G. A. <span class="smcap">Spottiswoode</span>,<br /> -New-street-Square.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span></p> - -<p class="titlepage">DEDICATED<br /> -<br /> -<span class="smaller">TO</span><br /> -<br /> -<span class="larger">J. A. B. MARSHALL, ESQ.,</span><br /> -<br /> -<span class="smaller">AND THE</span><br /> -<br /> -MEMBERS OF THE LANSDOWN CRICKET CLUB,<br /> -<br /> -<span class="smaller">BY ONE OF THEIR OLDEST MEMBERS<br /> -<br /> -AND SINCERE FRIEND,</span><br /> -<br /> -THE AUTHOR.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a><br /> -<a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> - -<h2>PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.</h2> - -<p>This Edition is greatly improved by various -additions and corrections, for which we gratefully -acknowledge our obligations to the Rev. R. T. -King and Mr. A. Haygarth, as also once more -to Mr. A. Bass and Mr. Whateley of Burton. -For our practical instructions on Bowling, Batting, -and Fielding, the first players of the day have -been consulted, each on the point in which he -respectively excelled. More discoveries have also -been made illustrative of the origin and early -history of Cricket; and we trust nothing is wanting -to maintain the high character now accorded -to the “Cricket Field,” as the Standard Authority -on every part of our National Game.</p> - -<p class="right">J. P.</p> - -<p class="smaller"><i>May, 18. 1854.</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a><br /><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p> - -<h2>PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.</h2> - -<p>The following pages are devoted to the history -and the science of our National Game. Isaac -Walton has added a charm to the Rod and Line; -Col. Hawker to the Dog and the Gun; and -Nimrod and Harry Hieover to the “Hunting -Field:” but, the “Cricket Field” is to this day -untrodden ground. We have been long expecting -to hear of some chronicler aided and abetted by -the noblemen and gentlemen of the Marylebone -Club,—one who should combine, with all the -resources of a ready writer, traditionary lore and -practical experience. But, time is fast thinning -the ranks of the veterans. Lord Frederick Beauclerk -and the once celebrated player, the Hon. -Henry Tufton, afterwards Earl of Thanet, have -passed away; and probably Sparkes, of the Edinburgh -Ground, and Mr. John Goldham, hereinafter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span> -mentioned, are the only surviving players -who have witnessed both the formation and the -jubilee of the Marylebone Club—following, as it -has, the fortunes of the Pavilion and of the enterprising -Thomas Lord, literally through “three -removes” and “one fire,” from White Conduit -Fields to the present Lord’s.</p> - -<p>How, then, it will be asked, do <i>we</i> presume to -save from oblivion the records of Cricket?</p> - -<p>As regards the Antiquities of the game, our -history is the result of patient researches in old -English literature. As regards its changes and -chances and the players of olden time, it fortunately -happens that, some fifteen years ago, we -furnished ourselves with old Nyren’s account of -the Cricketers of his time and the Hambledon -Club, and, using Bentley’s Book of Matches from -1786 to 1825 to suggest questions and test the -truth of answers, we passed many an interesting -hour in Hampshire and Surrey, by the peat fires -of those villages which reared the Walkers, David -Harris, Beldham, Wells, and some others of the -All England players of fifty years since. Bennett, -Harry Hampton, Beldham, and Sparkes, who first -taught us to play,—all men of the last century,—have -at various times contributed to our earlier<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span> -annals; while Thomas Beagley, for some days -our landlord, the late Mr. Ward, and especially -Mr. E. H. Budd, often our antagonist in Lansdown -matches, have respectively assisted in the -first twenty years of the present century.</p> - -<p>But, distinct mention must we make of one -most important Chronicler, whose recollections -were coextensive with the whole history of the -game in its matured and perfect form—<span class="smcap">William -Fennex</span>. And here we must thank our kind -friend the Rev. John Mitford, of Benhall, for his -memoranda of many a winter’s evening with that -fine old player,—papers especially valuable because -Fennex’s impressions were so distinct, and -his observation so correct, that, added to his -practical illustrations with bat and ball, no other -man could enable us so truthfully to compare -ancient with modern times. Old Fennex, in -his declining years, was hospitably appointed by -Mr. Mitford to a sinecure office, created expressly -in his honour, in the beautiful gardens of -Benhall; and Pilch, and Box, and Bayley, and all -his old acquaintance, will not be surprised to hear -that the old man would carefully water and roll -his little cricket-ground on summer mornings, -and on wet and wintry days would sit in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[x]</a></span> -chimney-corner, dealing over and over again by -the hour, to an imaginary partner, a very dark -and dingy pack of cards, and would then sally -forth to teach a long remembered lesson to some -hob-nailed frequenter of the village ale-house.</p> - -<p>So much for the History: but why should we -venture on the Science of the game?</p> - -<p>Many may be excellently qualified, and have -a fund of anecdote and illustration, still not one -of the many will venture on a book. Hundreds -play without knowing principles; many know -what they cannot explain; and some could explain, -but fear the certain labour and cost, with -the most uncertain return, of authorship. For -our own part, we have felt our way. The wide -circulation of our “Recollections of College Days” -and “Course of English Reading” promises a -patient hearing on subjects within our proper -sphere; and that in this sphere lies Cricket, we -may without vanity presume to assert. For in -August last, at Mr. Dark’s Repository at Lord’s, -our little treatise on the “Principles of Scientific -Batting” (Slatter: Oxford, 1835) was singled out -as “the book which contained as much on Cricket -as all that had ever been written, and more besides.” -That same day did we proceed to arrange<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span> -with Messrs. Longman, naturally desirous to lead -a second advance movement, as we led the first, -and to break the spell which, we had thus been -assured, had for fifteen years chained down the invention -of literary cricketers at the identical point -where we left off; for, not a single rule or principle -has yet been published in advance of our own; -though more than one author has been kind enough -to adopt (thinking, no doubt, the parents were -dead) our ideas, and language too!</p> - -<p>“Shall we ever make new books,” asks -Tristram Shandy, “as apothecaries make new -mixtures, by pouring only out of one vessel into -another?” No. But so common is the failing, -that actually even this illustration of plagiarism -Sterne stole from Burton!</p> - -<p>Like solitary travellers from unknown lands, -we are naturally desirous to offer some confirmation -of statements, depending otherwise too much -on our literary honour. We, happily, have received -the following from—we believe the oldest player -of the day who can be pronounced a good player -still—Mr. E. H. Budd:—</p> - -<p>“I return the proof-sheets of the History of -my Contemporaries, and can truly say that they -do indeed remind me of old times. I find one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[xii]</a></span> -thing only to correct, which I hope you will be -in time to alter, for your accuracy will then, to -the best of my belief, be wholly without exception:—write -<i>twenty</i> guineas, and not <i>twenty-five</i>, -as the sum offered, by old Thomas Lord, if any -one should hit out of his ground where now is -Dorset Square.</p> - -<p>“You invite me to note further particulars for -your second edition: the only omission I can at -present detect is this,—the name of Lord George -Kerr, son of the Marquis of Lothian, should be -added to your list of the Patrons of the Old -Surrey Players; for, his lordship lived in the -midst of them at Farnham; and, I have often -heard Beldham say, used to provide bread and -cheese and beer for as many as would come out -and practise on a summer’s evening: this is too -<i>substantial</i> a supporter of the Noble Game to be -forgotten.”</p> - -<p>We must not conclude without grateful acknowledgments -to some distinguished amateurs representing -the science both of the northern and the -southern counties, who have kindly allowed us to -compare notes on various points of play. In all -of our instructions in Batting, we have greatly -benefited by the assistance, in the first instance,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[xiii]</a></span> -of Mr. A. Bass of Burton, and his friend Mr. -Whateley, a gentleman who truly understands -“Philosophy in Sport.” Then, the Hon. Robert -Grimston judiciously suggested some modification -of our plan. We agreed with him that, for a -popular work, and one “for play hours,” the -lighter parts should prevail over the heavier; for, -with most persons, a little science goes a long -way, and our “winged words,” if made too -weighty, might not fly far; seeing, as said Thucydides<a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>, -“men do find it such a bore to learn any -thing that gives them trouble.” For these reasons -we drew more largely on our funds of anecdote -and illustration, which had been greatly enriched -by the contributions of a highly valued correspondent—Mr. -E. S. E. Hartopp. When thus -the science of batting had been reduced to its fair -proportions, it was happily undertaken by the -Hon. Frederick Ponsonby, not only through kindness -to ourselves personally, but also, we feel -assured, because he takes a pleasure in protecting -the interests of the rising generation. By his -advice, we became more distinct in our explanations, -and particularly careful of venturing on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[xiv]</a></span> -such refinements of science as, though sound in -theory, may possibly produce errors in practice.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“<i>Tantæ molis erat <span class="smcap">Cricetanum</span> condere <span class="smcap">Campum</span>.</i>”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>For our artist we have one word to say: not -indeed for the engravings in our frontispiece,—these -having received unqualified approbation; -but, we allude to the illustrations of attitudes. -In vain did our artist assure us that a foreshortened -position would defy every attempt at ease, -energy, or elegance; we felt bound to insist on -sacrificing the effect of the picture to its utility as -an illustration. Our principal design is to show -the position of the feet and bat with regard to the -wicket, and how every hit, with one exception, -the Cut, is made by no other change of attitude -than results from the movement of the left foot -alone.</p> - -<p class="right">J. P.</p> - -<p class="smaller"><i>Barnstaple,<br /> -April 15th, 1851.</i></p> - -<div class="footnotes"> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> B. i. c. 20.</p> - -</div> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xv" id="Page_xv">[xv]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> - -<table summary="Contents" class="contents"> - <tr> - <td></td><td class="tdr">Page</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc tdtop-pad" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAP_I">CHAP. I.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Origin of the Game of Cricket</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc tdtop-pad" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAP_II">CHAP. II.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The general Character of Cricket</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_16">16</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc tdtop-pad" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAP_III">CHAP. III.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Hambledon Club and the Old Players</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc tdtop-pad" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAP_IV">CHAP. IV.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Cricket generally established as a National Game by the End of the last Century</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc tdtop-pad" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAP_V">CHAP. V.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The First Twenty Years of the present Century</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc tdtop-pad" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAP_VI">CHAP. VI.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A dark Chapter in the History of Cricket</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_99">99</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xvi" id="Page_xvi">[xvi]</a></span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc tdtop-pad" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAP_VII">CHAP. VII.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Science and Art of Batting</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_110">110</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc tdtop-pad" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAP_VIII">CHAP. VIII.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Hints against Slow Bowling</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc tdtop-pad" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAP_IX">CHAP. IX.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Bowling.—An Hour with “Old Clarke”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_187">187</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc tdtop-pad" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAP_X">CHAP. X.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Hints on Fielding</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_204">204</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc tdtop-pad" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAP_XI">CHAP. XI.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Chapter of Accidents.—Miscellaneous</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_234">234</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xvii" id="Page_xvii">[xvii]</a><br /> -<a name="Page_xviii" id="Page_xviii">[xviii]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 415px;"> - -<img src="images/batsman.jpg" width="415" height="650" alt="" /> - -<p class="caption">H. Adlard sc.</p> - -<p class="caption larger">THE BATSMAN.</p> - -<p class="caption"><i>Fuller Pilch.</i></p> - -<p class="caption">London: Longman, Brown, Green & Longmans.</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - -<h1>THE CRICKET FIELD.</h1> - -<h2 id="CHAP_I">CHAPTER I.<br /> -<span class="smaller">ORIGIN OF THE GAME OF CRICKET.</span></h2> - -<p>The Game of Cricket, in some rude form, is undoubtedly -as old as the thirteenth century. But -whether at that early date Cricket was the name -it generally bore is quite another question. For -Club-Ball we believe to be the name which -usually stood for Cricket in the thirteenth century; -though, at the same time, we have some -curious evidence that the term Cricket at that -early period was also known. But the identity -of the game with that now in use is the chief -point; the name is of secondary consideration. -Games commonly change their names, as every -school-boy knows, and bear different appellations -in different places.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, all previous writers acquiescing -quietly in the opinion of Strutt, expressed in his -“Sports and Pastimes,” not only forget that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> -Cricket may be older than its name, but erroneously -suppose that the name of Cricket occurs -in no author in the English language of an earlier -date than Thomas D’Urfey, who, in his “Pills to -purge Melancholy,” writes thus:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“Herr was the prettiest fellow</div> -<div class="verse">At foot-ball and at <i>Cricket</i>;</div> -<div class="verse">At hunting chase or nimble race</div> -<div class="verse"><i>How featly</i> Herr could prick it.”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">The words “How featly” Strutt properly writes -in place of a revolting old-fashioned oath in the -original.</p> - -<p>Strutt, therefore, in these lines quotes the -word Cricket as first occurring in 1710.</p> - -<p>About the same date Pope wrote,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“The Judge to dance his brother Sergeants call,</div> -<div class="verse">The Senators at <i>Cricket</i> urge the ball.”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">And Duncome, curious to observe, laying the -scene of a match near Canterbury, wrote,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“An ill-timed <i>Cricket Match</i> there did</div> -<div class="verse indent1">At Bishops-bourne befal.”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Soame Jenyns, also, early in the same century, -wrote in lines that showed that cricket was very -much of a “sporting” amusement:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“England, when once of peace and wealth possessed,</div> -<div class="verse">Began to think frugality a jest;</div> -<div class="verse">So grew polite: hence all her well-bred heirs</div> -<div class="verse">Gamesters and jockeys turned, and <i>cricket</i>-players.”</div> -<div class="verse right">Ep. I. b. ii., <i>init.</i></div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>However, we are happy to say that even -among comparatively modern authors we have -beaten Strutt in his researches by twenty-five -years; for Edward Phillips, John Milton’s nephew, -in his “Mysteries of Love and Eloquence” -(8vo. 1685), writes thus:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“Will you not, when you have me, throw stocks at my -head and cry, ‘Would my eyes had been beaten out of my -head with a <i>cricket-ball</i> the day before I saw thee?’”</p></div> - -<p>We shall presently show the word Cricket, in -Richelet, as early as the year 1680.</p> - -<p>A late author has very sensibly remarked that -Cricket could not have been popular in the days -of Elizabeth, or we should expect to find allusions -to that game, as to tennis, foot-ball, and other -sports, in the early poets; but Shakspeare and -the dramatists who followed, he observes, are -silent on the subject.</p> - -<p>As to the silence of the early poets and dramatists -on the game of cricket—and no one conversant -with English literature would expect to find -it except in some casual allusion or illustration in -an old play—this silence we can confirm on the -best authority. What if we presumed to advance -that the early dramatists, one and all, ignore<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -the very name of cricket. How bold a negative! -So rare are certain old plays that a hundred -pounds have been paid by the Duke of Devonshire -for a single copy of a few loose and soiled -leaves; and shall we pretend to have dived among -such hidden stores? We are so fortunate as to -be favoured with the assistance of the Rev. John -Mitford and our loving cousin John Payne Collier, -two English scholars, most deeply versed in -early literature, and no bad judges of cricket; and -since these two scholars have never met with any -mention of cricket in the early dramatists, nor in -any author earlier than 1685, there is, indeed, -much reason to believe that “Cricket” is a word -that does not occur in any English author before -the year 1685.</p> - -<p>But though it occurs not in any English author, -is it found in no rare manuscript yet unpublished? -We shall see.</p> - -<p>Now as regards the silence of the early poets, a -game like cricket might certainly exist without -falling in with the allusions or topics of poetical -writers. Still, if we actually find distinct catalogues -and enumerations of English games before -the date of 1685, and Cricket is omitted, the suspicion -that Cricket was not then the popular -name of one of the many games of ball (not that -the game itself was positively unknown) is strongly -confirmed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> - -<p>Six such catalogues are preserved; one in the -“Anatomy of Melancholy,” a second in a well-known -treatise of James I., and a third in the -“Cotswold Games,” with three others.</p> - -<p>I. For the first catalogue, Strutt reminds us of -the set of rules from the hand of James I. for the -“nurture and conduct of an heir-apparent to the -throne,” addressed to his eldest son, Henry Prince -of Wales, called the ΒΑΣΙΛΙΚΟΝ ΔΩΡΟΝ, or -a “Kinge’s Christian Dutie towards God.” -Herein the king forbids gaming and rough play: -“As to diceing, I think it becometh best deboshed -souldiers to play on the heads of their -drums. As to the foote-ball, it is meeter for -laming, than making able, the users thereof.” But -a special commendation is given to certain games -of ball; “playing at the catch or tennis, palle-malle, -and <i>such like other</i> fair and pleasant <i>field-games</i>.” -Certainly cricket may have been included -under the last general expression, though -by no means a fashionable game in James’s reign.</p> - -<p>II. For the second catalogue of games, Burton -in his “Anatomy of Melancholy,” “the only -book,” said Dr. Johnson, “that ever took me out -of bed two hours sooner than I wished to rise,”—gives -a view of the sports most prevalent in the -seventeenth century. Here we have a very full -enumeration: it specifies the pastimes of “great -men,” and those of “base inferior persons;” it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> -mentions “the rocks on which men lose themselves” -by gambling; how “wealth runs away -with their hounds, and their fortunes fly away -with their hawks.” Then follow “the sights and -shows of the Londoners,” and the “May-games -and recreations of the country-folk.” More minutely -still, Burton speaks of “rope dancers, cockfights,” -and other sports common both to town -and country; still, though Burton is so exact as to -specify all “winter recreations” separately, and -mentions even “foot-balls and ballowns,” saying -“Let the common people play at ball and barley-brakes,” -there is in all this catalogue no mention -whatever of Cricket.</p> - -<p>III. As a third catalogue, we have the “Cotswold -Games,” but cricket is not among them. -This was an annual celebration which one Captain -Dover, by express permission and command -of James I., held on the Cotswold Hills, in -Gloucestershire.</p> - -<p>IV. Fourthly: cricket is not mentioned in -“The compleat Gamester,” published by Charles -Browne, in 1709.</p> - -<p>V. “I have many editions of Chamberlayne’s -‘State of England,’” kindly writes Mr. T. B. -Macaulay, “published between 1670 and 1700, -and I observe he never mentions cricket among -the national games, of which he gives a long list.”</p> - -<p>VI. The great John Locke wrote in 1679,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> -“The sports of England for a curious stranger -to see, are horse-racing, hawking, hunting, and -Bowling: at Marebone and Putney he may see -several persons of quality bowling two or three -times a week: also, wrestling in Lincoln’s Inn -Fields every evening; bear and bull-baiting at -the bear garden; shooting with the long bow, and -stob-ball, in Tothill Fields; and cudgel playing -in the country, and hurling in Cornwall.” Here -again we have no Cricket. Stob-ball is a different -game.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless we have a catalogue of games of -about 1700, in Stow’s “Survey of London,” and -there Cricket is mentioned; but, remarkably -enough, it is particularised as one of the amusements -of “the lower classes.” The whole passage -is curious:—</p> - -<p>“The modern sports of the citizens, <i>besides -drinking</i>(!), are cock-fighting, bowling upon -greens, backgammon, cards, dice, billiards, also -musical entertainments, dancing, masks, balls, -stage-plays, and club-meetings in the evening; -they sometimes ride out on horseback, and hunt -with the lord mayor’s pack of dogs, when the -common hunt goes on. The <i>lower classes</i> divert -themselves at foot-ball, wrestling, cudgels, nine-pins, -shovel-board, <i>cricket</i>, stow-ball, ringing of -bells, quoits, pitching the bar, bull and bear baitings, -throwing at cocks, and lying at ale-houses.”(!)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> - -<p>The lawyers have a rule that to specify one -thing is to ignore the other; and this rule of -evidence can never be more applicable than where -a sport is omitted from six distinct catalogues; -therefore, the conclusion that Cricket was unknown -when those lists were made would indeed appear -utterly irresistible, only—<i>audi semper alteram -partem</i>—in this case the argument would prove -too much; for it would equally prove that Club-ball -and Trap-ball were undiscovered too, whereas -both these games are confessedly as old as the -thirteenth century!</p> - -<p>The conclusion of all this is, that the oft-repeated -assertions that Cricket is a game no older -than the eighteenth century is erroneous: for, -first, the thing itself may be much older than its -name; and, secondly, the “silence of antiquity” -is no conclusive evidence that even the name of -Cricket was really unknown.</p> - -<p>Thus do we refute those who assert a negative -as to the antiquity of cricket: and now for our -affirmative; and we are prepared to show—</p> - -<p>First, that a single-wicket game was played as -early as the thirteenth century, under the name -of Club-ball.</p> - -<p>Secondly, that it might have been identical -with a sport of the same date called “Handyn -and Handoute.”</p> - -<p>Thirdly, that a genuine double-wicket game<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> -was played in Scotland about 1700, under the -name of “Cat and Dog.”</p> - -<p>Fourthly, that “Creag,”—very near “Cricce,” -the Saxon term for the crooked stick, or bandy, -which we see in the old pictures of cricket,—was -the name of a game played in the year 1300.</p> - -<p>First, as to a single-wicket game in the thirteenth -century, whatever the name of the said -game might have been, we are quite satisfied -with the following proof:—</p> - -<p>“In the Bodleian Library at Oxford,” says -Strutt, “is a MS. (No. 264.) dated 1344, which -represents a figure, a female, in the act of bowling -a ball (of the size of a modern cricket-ball) to a -man who elevates a straight bat to strike it; behind -the bowler are several figures, male and -female, waiting to stop or catch the ball, their -attitudes grotesquely eager for a ‘chance.’ The -game is called Club-ball, but the score is made by -hitting and running, as in cricket.”</p> - -<p>Secondly, Barrington, in his “Remarks on the -More Ancient Statutes,” comments on 17 Edw. -IV. <span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1477, thus:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> - -<p>“The disciplined soldiers were not only guilty -of pilfering on their return, but also of the vice -of gaming. The third chapter therefore forbids -playing at cloish, ragle, half-bowle, quekeborde, -<i>handyn and handoute</i>. Whosoever shall permit -these games to be played in their house or yard -is punishable with three years’ imprisonment; -those who play at any of the said games are to be -fined 10<i>l.</i>, or lie in jail two years.”</p> - -<p>“This,” says Barrington, “is the most severe -law ever made in any country against gaming; -and, some of those forbidden seem to have been -manly exercises, particularly the “handyn and -handoute,” which I should suppose to be a kind of -<i>cricket</i>, as the term <i>hands</i> is still (writing in 1740) -retained in that game.”</p> - -<p>Thirdly, as to the double-wicket game, Dr. -Jamieson, in his Dictionary, published in 1722, -gives the following account of a game played in -Angus and Lothian:—</p> - -<p>“This is a game for three players at least, -who are furnished with clubs. They cut out two -holes, each about a foot in diameter and seven -inches in depth, and twenty-six feet apart; one -man guards each hole with his club; these clubs -are called Dogs. A piece of wood, about four -inches long and one inch in diameter, called a Cat, -is pitched, by a third person, from one hole towards -the player at the other, who is to prevent -the cat from getting into the hole. If it pitches -in the hole, the party who threw it takes his turn -with the club. If the cat be struck, the club-bearers -change places, and each change of place -counts one to the score, <i>like club-ball</i>.”</p> - -<p>The last observation shows that in the game of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -Club-ball above-mentioned, the score was made -by “runs,” as in cricket.</p> - -<p>In what respect, then, do these games differ -from cricket as played now? The only exception -that can be taken is to the absence of any -wicket. But every one familiar with a paper -given by Mr. Ward, and published in “Old -Nyren,” by the talented Mr. C. Cowden Clarke, -will remember that the traditionary “blockhole” -was a veritable hole in former times, and that the -batsman was made Out in running, not, as now, -by putting down a wicket, but by popping the -ball into the hole before the bat was grounded in -it. The same paper represents that the wicket -was two feet wide,—a width which is only rendered -credible by the fact that the said hole was -not like our mark for guard, four feet distant -from the stumps, but cut like a basin in the turf -between the stumps; an arrangement which would -require space for the frequent struggle of the -batsman and wicket-keeper, as to whether the bat -of the one, or the hand of the other, should reach -the blockhole first.</p> - -<p>The conclusion of all is, that Cricket is identical -with Club-ball,—a game played in the thirteenth -century as single-wicket, and played, if not then, -somewhat later as a double-wicket game; that -where balls were scarce, a Cat, or bit of wood, as -seen in many a village, supplied its place; also that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -“handyn and handoute” was probably only another -name. Fosbroke, in his Dictionary of Antiquities, -said, “club-ball was the ancestor of cricket:” he -might have said, “club-ball was the old name for -cricket, the games being the same.”</p> - -<p>The points of difference are not greater than -every cricketer can show between the game as -now played and that of the last century.</p> - -<p>But, lastly, as to the name of Cricket. The -bat, which is now straight, is represented in old -pictures as crooked, and “cricce” is the simple -Saxon word for a crooked stick. The derivation -of Billiards from the Norman <i>billart</i>, a cue, or -from <i>ball-yard</i>, according to Johnson, also Nine-pins -and Trap-ball, are obvious instances of games -which derived their names from the implements -with which they are played. Now it appears -highly probable that the crooked stick used in the -game of Bandy might have been gradually -adopted, especially when a wicket to be bowled -down by a rolling ball superseded the blockhole -to be pitched into. In that case the club having -given way to the bandy or crooked bat of the last -century, the game, which first was named from -the club “club-ball,” might afterwards have been -named from the bandy or crooked stick “cricket.”</p> - -<p>Add to which, the game might have been -played in two ways,—sometimes more in the -form of Club-ball, sometimes more like Cricket;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> -and the following remarkable passage proves that -a term very similar to Cricket was applied to -some game as far back as the thirteenth century, -the identical date to which we have traced that -form of cricket called club-ball and the game of -handyn and handoute.</p> - -<p>From the Gentleman’s Magazine, vol. lviii. p. -1., <span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1788, we extract the following:—</p> - -<p>“In the wardrobe account of the 28th year -of King Edward the First, <span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1300, published -in 1787 by the Society of Antiquaries, among -the entries of money paid one Mr. John Leek, -his chaplain, for the use of his son Prince Edward -in playing at different games, is the following:—</p> - -<p>“‘Domino Johanni de Leek, capellano Domini -Edwardi fil’ ad <i>Creag’</i> et alios ludos per vices, -per manus proprias, 100 s. Apud Westm. 10 die -Aprilis, 1305.’”</p> - -<p>The writer observes, that the glossaries have -been searched in vain for any other name of a -pastime but cricket to which the term Creag’ can -apply. And why should it not be Cricket? for, -we have a singular evidence that, at the same date, -Merlin the Magician was a cricketer!</p> - -<p>In the romance of “Merlin,” a book in very -old French, written about the time of Edward I., -is the following:—</p> - -<p>“Two of his (Vortiger’s) emissaries fell in with -certain children who were playing at <i>cricket</i>.”—Quoted -in Dunlo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>p’s “History of Fiction.”</p> - -<p>The word here rendered <i>cricket</i> is <i>la crosse</i>; and -in Richelet’s Dict. of Ant. 1680, are these words:</p> - -<p>“<i>Crosse</i>, à Crosier. Bâton de bois courbé par -le bout d’en haut, dont on se sert pour jouer ou -pousser quelque balle.”</p> - -<p>“<i>Crosseur</i>, qui pousse—‘<i>Cricketer</i>.’”</p> - -<p>Creag’ and Cricket, therefore, being presumed -identical, the cricketers of Warwick and of Gloucester -may be reminded that they are playing the -same game as was played by the dauntless enemy -of Robert Bruce, afterwards the prisoner at Kenilworth, -and eventually the victim of Mortimer’s -ruffians in the dark tragedy of Berkeley Castle.</p> - -<p>To advert to a former observation that cricket -was originally confined to the lower orders, Robert -Southey notes, C. P. Book. iv. 201., that cricket -was not deemed a game for gentlemen in the -middle of the last century. Tracing this allusion -to “The Connoisseur,” No. 132. dated 1756, we -are introduced to one Mr. Toby Bumper, whose -vulgarities are, “drinking purl in the morning, -eating black-puddings at Bartholomew Fair, boxing -with Buckhorse,” and also that “he is frequently -engaged at the Artillery Ground with Faukner -and Dingate <i>at cricket</i>, and is esteemed as good a -bat as either of the Bennets.” Dingate will be -mentioned as an All-England player in our third -chapter.</p> - -<p>And here we must observe that at the very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -date that a cricket-ground was thought as low as -a modern skittle-alley, we read that even</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“Some Dukes at Mary’bone <i>bowled</i> time away;”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">and also that a Duchess of Devonshire could be -actually watching the play of her guests in the -skittle-alley till nine o’clock in the evening.</p> - -<p>Our game in later times, we know, has constituted -the pastime and discipline of many an English -soldier. Our barracks are now provided with -cricket grounds; every regiment and every man-of-war -has its club; and our soldiers and sailors -astonish the natives of every clime, both inland -and maritime, with a specimen of a British game: -and it deserves to be better known that it was at -a cricket match that “some of our officers were -amusing themselves on the 12th June, 1815,” -says Captain Gordon,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> “in company with that -devoted cricketer the Duke of Richmond, when -the Duke of Wellington arrived, and shortly -after came the Prince of Orange, which of course -put a stop to our game. Though the hero of the -Peninsula was not apt to let his movements be -known, on this occasion he made no secret that, -if he were attacked from the south, Halle would -be his position, and, if on the Namur side, -<span class="smcap">Waterloo</span>.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 id="CHAP_II">CHAP II.<br /> -<span class="smaller">THE GENERAL CHARACTER OF CRICKET.</span></h2> - -<p>The game of cricket, philosophically considered, -is a standing panegyric on the English character: -none but an orderly and sensible race of people -would so amuse themselves. It calls into requisition -all the cardinal virtues, some moralist would -say. As with the Grecian games of old, the -player must be sober and temperate. Patience, -fortitude, and self-denial, the various bumps of -order, obedience, and good-humour, with an unruffled -temper, are indispensable. For intellectual -virtues we want judgment, decision, and the -organ of concentrativeness—every faculty in the -free use of all its limbs—and every idea in constant -air and exercise. Poor, rickety, and stunted -wits will never serve: the widest shoulders are of -little use without a head upon them: the cricketer -wants wits down to his fingers’ ends. As to -physical qualifications, we require not only the -volatile spirits of the Irishman <i>Rampant</i>, nor the -phlegmatic caution of the Scotchman <i>Couchant</i>, -but we want the English combination of the two;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> -though, with good generalship, cricket is a game -for Britons generally: the three nations would -mix not better in a regiment than in an eleven; -especially if the Hibernian were trained in London, -and taught to enjoy something better than -what Father Prout terms his supreme felicity, -“Otium cum dig-<i>gin-taties</i>.”</p> - -<p>It was from the southern and south-eastern -counties of England that the game of Cricket -spread—not a little owing to the Propaganda of -the metropolitan clubs, which played chiefly first -at the Artillery Ground, then at White Conduit -Fields, and thirdly at Thomas Lord’s Grounds, (of -which there were two before the present “Lord’s,”) -as well as latterly at the Oval, Kennington, and -on all sides of London—through all the southern -half of England; and during these last twenty -years the northern counties, and even Edinburgh, -have sent forth distinguished players. But considering -that the complement of the game is -twenty-two men, besides two Umpires and two -Scorers; and considering also that cricket, unlike -every other manly contest, by flood or field, occupies -commonly more than one day; the railways, -as might be expected, have tended wonderfully -to the diffusion of cricket,—giving rise to -clubs depending on a circle of some thirty or forty -miles, as also to that club in particular under the -canonised saint, John Zingari, into whom are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -supposed to have migrated all the erratic spirits of -the gipsy tribe. The Zingari are a race of ubiquitous -cricketers, exclusively gentlemen-players; -for cricket affords to a race of professionals a -merry and abundant, though rather a laborious -livelihood, from the time the first May-fly is up to -the time the first pheasant is down. Neither must -we forget the All England and United Elevens, -who, under the generalship of Clarke or Wisden, -play numbers varying from fourteen to twenty-two -in almost every county in England. So proud -are provincial clubs of this honour that, besides a -subscription of some 70<i>l.</i>, and part or all of the -money at the field-gate being willingly accorded -for their services, much hospitality is exercised -wherever they go. This tends to a healthy circulation -of the life’s blood of cricket, vaccinating -and inoculating every wondering rustic with the -principles of the national game. Our soldiers, -we said, by order of the Horse Guards, are provided -with cricket-grounds adjoining their barracks; -and all of her Majesty’s ships have bats -and balls to astonish the cockroaches at sea, and -the crabs and turtles ashore. Hence it has come -to pass that, wherever her Majesty’s servants -have “carried their victorious arms” and legs, -wind and weather permitting, cricket has been -played. Still the game is essentially Anglo-Saxon. -Foreigners have rarely, very rarely, -imitated us. The English settlers and residents<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> -everywhere play; but of no single cricket club -have we ever heard dieted either with frogs, sour -crout, or macaroni. But how remarkable that -cricket is not naturalised in Ireland! the fact is -very striking that it follows the course rather of -ale than whiskey. Witness Kent, the land of -hops, and the annual antagonists of “All England.” -Secondly, Farnham, which, as we shall -presently show, with its adjoining parishes, nurtured -the finest of the old players, as well as the -finest hops,—<i>cunabula Trojæ</i>, the infant school -of cricketers. Witness also the Burton Clubs, -assisted by our excellent friend next akin to -bitter ale. Witness again Alton ale, on which -old Beagley throve so well, and the Scotch ale of -Edinburgh, on which John Sparkes, though commencing -with the last generation, has carried on -his instructions, in which we ourselves once rejoiced, -into the middle of the present century. -The mountain mists and “mountain dew” suit -better with deer-stalking than with cricket: our -game disdains the Dutch courage of ardent spirits. -The brain must glow with Nature’s fire, and not -depend upon a spirit lamp. <i>Mens sana in corpore -sano</i>: feed the body, but do not cloud the mind. -You, sir, with the hectic flush, the fire of your -eyes burnt low in their sockets, with beak as -sharp as a woodcock’s from living upon suction, -with pallid face and shaky hand,—our game<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -disdains such ghostlike votaries. Rise with the -lark and scent the morning air, and drink from -the bubbling rill, and then, when your veins are -no longer fevered with alcohol, nor puffed with -tobacco smoke,—when you have rectified your -illicit spirits and clarified your unsettled judgment,—“come -again and devour up my discourse.” -And you, sir, with the figure of Falstaff -and the nose of Bardolph,—not Christianly eating -that you may live, but living that you may eat,—one -of the <i>nati consumere fruges</i>, the devouring -caterpillar and grub of human kind—our noble -game has no sympathy with gluttony, still less -with the habitual “diner out,” on whom outraged -nature has taken vengeance, by emblazoning what -was his face (<i>nimium ne crede colori</i>), encasing -each limb in fat, and condemning him to be his -own porter to the end of his days. “Then I am -your man—and I—and I,” cry a crowd of self-satisfied -youths: “sound are we in wind and -limb, and none have quicker hand or eye.” -Gently, my friends, so far well; good hands and -eyes are instruments indispensable, but only instruments. -There is a wide difference between -a good workman and a bag of tools, however -sharp. We must have heads as well as hands. -You may be big enough and strong enough, but -the question is whether, as Virgil says,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“<i>Spiritus intus alit, totamque infusa per artus</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Mens agitat molem, et magno se corpore miscet.</i>”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> - -<p class="noindent">And, in these lines, Virgil truly describes the right -sort of man for a cricketer: plenty of life in him: -not barely soul enough, as Robert South said, to -keep his body from putrefaction; but, however -large his stature, though he weigh twenty stone, -like (we will not say Mr. Mynn), but an olden -wicket-keeper, named Burt, or a certain <i>infant</i> -genius in the same line, of good Cambridge town,—he -must, like these worthies aforesaid, have -νους in perfection, and be instinct with sense all -over. Then, says Virgil, <i>igneus est ollis vigor</i>: -“they must always have the steam up,” otherwise -the bard would have agreed with us, they -are no good in an Eleven, because—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse indent10">“<i>Noxia corpora tardant,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Terrenique hebetant artus, moribundaque membra;</i>”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">that is, you must suspend the laws of gravitation -before they can stir,—dull clods of the valley, -and so many stone of carrion; and then Virgil -proceeds to describe what discipline will render -those, who suffer the penalties of idleness or intemperance, -fit to join the chosen <i>few</i> in the -cricket-field:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse indent10">“<i>Exinde per amplum</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Mittimur Elysium et pauci læta arva tenemus.</i>”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">Of course <i>Elysium</i> means “Lords,” and <i>læta arva</i>, -“the shooting fields.” We make no apology for -classical quotations. At the Universities, cricket<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -and scholarship very generally go together. When, -in 1836, we played victoriously on the side of -Oxford against Cambridge, seven out of our -eleven were classmen; and, it is doubtless only to -avoid an invidious distinction that “Heads <i>v.</i> -Heels,” as was once suggested, has failed to be -an annual University match; though the <i>seri -studiorum</i>—those put to school late—would not -have a chance. We extract the following:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“In a late Convocation holden at Oxford, May 30, 1851, -it was agreed to affix the University seal to a power of attorney -authorising the sale of 2000<i>l.</i> three per cent. consols, for the -purpose of paying for and enclosing certain allotments of -land in Cowley Common, used as cricket grounds by members -of the University, in order to their being preserved for -that purpose, and let to the several University cricket clubs -in such manner as may hereafter appear expedient.”</p></div> - -<p>From all this we argue that, on the authority -of ancient and the experience of modern -times, cricket wants mind as well as matter, -and, in every sense of the word, a good understanding. -How is it that Clarke’s slow bowling -is so successful? ask Bayley or Caldecourt; or -say Bayley’s own bowling, or that of Lillywhite, -or others not much indebted to pace. “You see, -sir, they bowl with their heads.” Then only is -the game worthy the notice of full-grown men. -“A rubber of whist,” says the author of the -“Diary of a late Physician,” in his “Law Studies,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> -“calls into requisition all those powers of -mind that a barrister most needs;” and nearly as -much may be said of a scientific game of cricket. -Mark that first-rate bowler: the batsman is hankering -for his favourite cut—no—leg stump is -attacked again—extra man on leg side—right—that’s -the spot—leg stump, and not too near -him. He is screwed up, and cannot cut away; -Point has it—persevere—try again—his patience -soon will fail. Ah! look at that ball;—the -bat was more out of the perpendicular—now -the bowler alters his pace—good. A dropping -ball—over-reached and all but a mistake;—now -a slower pace still, with extra twist—hits -furiously to leg, too soon. Leg-stump is grazed, -and bail off. “You see, sir,” says the veteran, -turning round,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> “an old player, who knows what -is, and what is not, on the ball, alone can resist all -the temptations that leg-balls involve. Young -players are going their round of experiments, and -are too fond of admiration and brilliant hits; -whereas it is your upright straight players that -worry a bowler—twenty-two inches of wood, by -four and a quarter—every inch of them before the -stumps, hitting or blocking, is rather disheartening; -but the moment a man makes ready for a -leg hit, only about five inches by four of wood -can cover the wicket; so leg-hitting is the bowler’s -chance: cutting also for a similar reason. -If there were no such thing as leg-hitting, we -should see a full bat every time, the man steady -on his legs, and only one thing to think of; and -what a task a bowler would have. That was -Mr. Ward’s play—good for something to the last. -First-rate straight play and free leg-hitting seldom -last long together: when once exulting in -the luxurious excitement of a leg volley, the -muscles are always on the quiver to swipe round, -and the bowler sees the bat raised more and more -across wicket. So, also, it is with men who -are yearning for a cut: forming for the cut, like -forming for leg-hit—aye, and almost the idea of -those hits coming across the mind—set the muscles -off straight play, and give the bowler a chance. -There is a deal of head-work in bowling: once -make your batsman set his mind on one hit, and -give him a ball requiring the contrary, and he is -off his guard in a moment.”</p> - -<p>Certainly, there is something highly intellectual -in our noble and national pastime. But the -cricketer must possess other qualifications; not -only physical and intellectual, but moral qualifications -also. Of what avail is the head to plan and -hand to execute, if a sulky temper paralyses exertion, -and throws a damp upon the field; or if -impatience dethrones judgment, and the man hits -across at good balls, because loose balls are long -in coming; or, again, if a contentious and imperious -disposition leaves the cricketer all ‘alone -in his glory,’ voted the pest of every eleven?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> - -<p>The pest of the hunting-field is the man always -thinking of his own horse and own riding, galloping -against <span class="smcapuc">MEN</span> and not after <span class="smcapuc">HOUNDS</span>. The pest -of the cricket-field is the man who bores you -about his average—his wickets—his catches; -and looks blue even at the success of his own -party. If unsuccessful in batting or fielding, he -gives up all—“the wretch concentred all in -self.” No! Give me the man who forgets himself -in the game, and, missing a ball, does not stop -to exculpate himself by dumb show, but rattles -away after it—who does not blame his partner -when he is run out—who plays like play and not -like a painful operation. Such a chilly, bleak, -northwest aspect some men do put on—it is -absurd to say they are enjoying themselves. We -all know it is trying to be out first ball. “Oh! -that first look back at rattling stumps—why, I -couldn’t have had right guard!”—that conviction -that the ball turned, or but for some unaccountable -suspension of the laws of motion (the earth perhaps -coming to a hitch upon its ungreased axis) -it had not happened! Then there’s the spoiling of -your average, (though some begin again and reckon -anew!) and a sad consciousness that every critic in -the three tiers of the Pavilion, as he coolly speculates -“<i>quis cuique dolor victo, quæ gloria palmæ</i>,” -knows your mortification. Oh! that sad walk -back, a “returned convict;” we must all pace it,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -“<i>calcanda semel via leti</i>.” A man is sure never -to take his eyes off the ground, and if there’s a bit -of stick in the way he kicks it instinctively with -the side of his shoe. Add, that cruel <i>post mortem</i> -examination into your “case,” and having to -answer the old question, How was it? or perhaps -forced to argue with some vexatious fellow who -imputes it to the very fault on which you are so -sore and sensitive. All this is trying; but since it -is always happening, an “inseparable accident” of -the game, it is time that an unruffled temper -should be held the “differentia” of the true -cricketer and bad temper voted bad play. Eleven -good-tempered men, other points equal, would -beat eleven sulky or eleven irritable gentlemen -out of the field. The hurling of bats and angry -ebullitions show inexperience in the game and its -chances; as if any man in England could always -catch, or stop, or score. This very uncertainty gives -the game its interest. If Pilch or Parr were sure -of runs, who would care to play? But as they -make sometimes five and sometimes fifty, we still -contend with flesh and blood. Even Achilles was -vulnerable at the heel; or, mythologically, he -could not stop a shooter to the leg stump. So -never let the Satan icagency of the gaming-table -brood on those “happy fields” where, <i>strenua nos -exercet inertia</i>, there is an energy in our idle -hours, not killing time but enjoying it. Look at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -good honest James Dean; his “patient merit” -never “goes Out sighing” nor In, either—never -in a mumbling, though a “melting mood.” Perspiration -may roll off him, like bubbles from a -duck’s back, but it’s all down to the day’s work. -He looks, as every cricketer should look, like a -man out for a holiday, shut up in “measureless -content.” It is delightful to see such a man make -a score.</p> - -<p>Add to all this, perseverance and self-denial, -and a soul above vain-glory and the applause of -the vulgar. Aye, perseverance in well-doing—perseverance -in a straightforward, upright, and -consistent course of action.—See that player practising -apart from the rest. What an unpretending -style of play—a hundred pounds appear to -depend on every ball—not a hit for these five -minutes—see, he has a shilling on his stumps, -and Hillyer is doing his best to knock it off. -A question asked after every ball, the bowler -being constantly invited to remind him of the -least inaccuracy in hitting or danger in defence. -The other players are hitting all over the field, -making every one (but a good judge) marvel. -Our friend’s reward is that in the first good match, -when some supposed brilliant Mr. Dashwood has -been stumped from leg ball—(he cannot make his -fine hits in his ground)—bowled by a shooter or -caught by that sharpest of all Points Ἄναξ ἄνδρων,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -then our persevering friend—ball after ball dropping -harmless from his bat, till ever and anon -a single or a double are safely played away—has -two figures appended to his name; and he -is greeted in the Pavilion as having turned the -chances of the game in favour of his side.</p> - -<p>Conceit in a cricketer, as in other things, is -a bar to all improvement—the vain-glorious is -always thinking of the lookers-on, instead of the -game, and generally is condemned to live on the -reputation of one skying leg-hit, or some twenty -runs off three or four overs (his merriest life is a -short one) for half a season.</p> - -<p>In one word, there is no game in which amiability -and an unruffled temper is so essential to -success, or in which virtue is rewarded, half as -much as in the game of cricket. Dishonest or -shuffling ways cannot prosper; the umpires will -foil every such attempt—those truly constitutional -judges, bound by a code of written laws—and -the public opinion of a cricket club, militates -against his preferment. For cricket is a social -game. Could a cricketer play a solo, or with a -dummy (other than the catapult), he might play -in humour or out of humour; but an Eleven is of -the nature of those commonwealths of which -Cicero said that, without some regard to the cardinal -virtues, they could not possibly hold together.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> - -<p>Such a national game as cricket will both humanise -and harmonise the people. It teaches a -love of order, discipline, and fair play for the pure -honour and glory of victory. The cricketer is a -member of a wide fraternity: if he is the best man -in his club, and that club is the best club in the -county, he has the satisfaction of knowing his -high position, and may aspire to represent some -large and powerful constituency at Lord’s. How -spirit-stirring are the gatherings of rival counties! -And I envy not the heart that glows not with -delight at eliciting the sympathies of exulting -thousands, when all the country is thronging to -its battle-field studded with flags and tents. Its -very look makes the heart beat for the fortune of -the play; and for miles around the old coachman -waves his whip above his head with an air of -infinite importance if he can only be the herald of -the joyous tidings, “We’ve won the day.”</p> - -<p>Games of some kind men must have, and it -is no small praise of cricket that it occupies the -place of less innocent sports. Drinking, gambling, -and cudgel-playing, insensibly disappear as you -encourage a manly recreation which draws the -labourer from the dark haunts of vice and misery -to the open common, where</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“The squire or parson o’ the parish,</div> -<div class="verse">Or the attorney,”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">may raise him, without lowering themselves, by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -taking an interest, if not a part, in his sports. -“Nature abhors a vacuum,” especially of mirth -and merriment, resenting the folly of those who -would disdain her bounties by that indifference -and apathy which mark a very dull boy indeed. -Nature designed us to sport and play at cricket -as truly as to eat and drink. Without sport you -have no healthful exercise: to refresh the body -you must relax the mind. Observe the pale dyspeptic -student ruminating on his logic, algebra, -or political economy while describing his periodical -revolutions around his college garden or on -Constitution Hill: then turn aside and gladden -your eyes and ears with the buoyant spirits and -exulting energies of Bullingdon or Lord’s. See -how nature rebels against “an airing,” or a milestone-measured -walk! While following up a -covey, or the windings of a trout-stream, we cross -field after field unconscious of fatigue, and retain -so pleasing a recollection of the toil, that years -after, amidst the din and hum of men, we brighten -at the thought, and yearn as did the poet near -two thousand years ago, in the words,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“<i>O rus, quando te aspiciam, quandoque licebit,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Ducere sollicitæ jucunda oblivia vitæ.</i>”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>That an intelligent and responsible being should -live only for amusement, is an error indeed, and -one which brings its own punishment in that sinking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -of the heart when the cup is drained to the -dregs, and pleasures cease to please.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“<i>Nec lusisse pudet sed non incidere ludum.</i>”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Still field-sports, in their proper season, are Nature’s -kind provision to smooth the frown from -the brow, to allay “life’s fitful fever,” to—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“Raze out the written troubles of the brain,</div> -<div class="verse">And by some sweet oblivious antidote</div> -<div class="verse">Cleanse the stuffed bosom from that perilous stuff,</div> -<div class="verse">Which weighs upon the heart.”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">And words are these, not a whit too strong for -those who live laborious days, in this high-pressure -generation. And, who does not feel his daily -burthen lightened, while enjoying, <i>pratorum viva -voluptas</i>, the joyous spirits and good fellowship of -the cricket-field, those sunny hours when “the valleys -laugh and sing,” and, between the greensward -beneath and the blue sky above, you hear a hum -of happy myriads enjoying their brief span too!</p> - -<p>Who can describe that tumult of the breast, -described by Æschylus,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse indent1">——νεαρὸς μυελὸς στέρνων</div> -<div class="verse">ἐντὸς ἀνάσσων—</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">those yearning energies which find in this sport -their genial exercise!</p> - -<p>How generous and social is our enjoyment! -Every happy moment,—the bail springing from -the bat, the sharp catch sounding in the palm, -long reach or sudden spring and quick return, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -exulting throw, or bails and wicket flying,—these -all are joys enhanced by sympathy, purely reflected -from each other’s eyes. In the cricket-field, -as by the cover’s side, the sport is in the -free and open air and light of heaven. No incongruity -of tastes nor rude collision interferes. -None minds that another, how “unmannerly” -soever, should “pass betwixt the wind and his -nobility.” One common interest makes common -feeling, fusing heart with heart, thawing the -frostwork of etiquette, and strengthening those -silken ties which bind man to man.</p> - -<p>Society has its ranks and classes. These distinctions -we believe to be not artificial, but natural, -even as the very courses and strata of the earth -itself. Lines there are, nicely graduated, ordained -to separate, what Burns calls, the tropics of nobility -and affluence, from the temperate zones of a -comfortable independence, and the Arctic circles -of poverty: but these lines are nowhere less -marked, because nowhere less wanted, than in the -cricket-field. There we can waive for awhile the -precedence of birth,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“Contented with the rank that merit gives.”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">And many an humble spirit, from this temporary -preferment, learning the pleasure of superiority -and well-earned applause, carries the same honest -emulation into his daily duties. The cricket-field -suggests a new version of the words</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse indent3">“<i>Æqua tellus</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Pauperi recluditur</i></div> -<div class="verse indent1"><i>Regumque pueris.</i>”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">“A fair stage and no favour.” Kerseymere disdains -not corduroys, nor fine clothes fustian. The -cottager stumps out his landlord; scholars dare to -beat their masters; and sons catch out those fathers -who so often <i>catch out</i> them. William Beldham -was many hours in the day “as good a man” as -even Lord Frederick Beauclerk; and the gallant -Duke of Richmond would descend from his high -estate to contest the palm of manly prowess with -his humblest tenantry, so far acknowledging with -Robert Burns,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“The rank is but the guinea stamp.</div> -<div class="verse">The man’s the gowd for a’ that.”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Cricket forms no debasing habits: unlike the -bull-fights of Spain, and the earlier sports of England, -it is suited to the softer feelings of a refined -age. No living creature suffers for our sport: -no frogs or minnows impaled, or worms writhing -upon fish-hooks,—no hare screaming before the -hounds,—no wounded partridge cowering in its -agony, haunts the imagination to qualify our -pleasure.</p> - -<p>Cricket lies within the reach of average powers. -A good head will compensate for hand and heels. -It is no monopoly for a gifted few, nor are we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -soon superannuated. It affords scope for a great -diversity of talent. Bowling, fielding, wicket-keeping, -free hitting, safe and judicious play, and -good generalship—in one of these points many a -man has earned a name, though inferior in the -rest. There are good batsmen and the best of -fields among near-sighted men, and hard hitters -among weak and crippled men; in weight, nine -stone has proved not too little for a first-rate, nor -eighteen stone too much; and, as to age, Mr. -Ward at sixty, Mr. E. H. Budd at sixty-five, and -old John Small at seventy years of age, were useful -men in good elevens.</p> - -<p>Cricket is a game available to poor as well as -rich; it has no privileged class. Unlike shooting, -hunting, or yachting, there is no leave to ask, -licence to buy, nor costly establishment to support: -the game is free and common as the light -and air in which it is played,—the poor man’s -portion: with the poorer classes it originated, -played “after hours” on village greens, and thence -transplanted to patrician lawns.</p> - -<p>We extract the following:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“The judge of the Brentford County Court has decided -that cricket is a legal game, so as to render the stakeholder -liable in an action for the recovery of the stakes, in a case -where one of the parties had refused to play.”</p></div> - -<p>Cricket is not solely a game of skill—chance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> -has sway enough to leave the vanquished an <i>if</i> -and a <i>but</i>. A long innings bespeaks good play; -but “out the first ball” is no disgrace. A game, -to be really a game, really playful, should admit -of chance as well as skill. It is the bane of -chess that its character is too severe—to lose its -games is to lose your character; and most painful -of all, to be outwitted in a fair and undeniable -contest of long-headedness, tact, manœuvring, -and common sense—qualities in which no man -likes to come off second best. Hence the restless -nights and unforgiving state of mind that often -follows a checkmate. Hence that “agony of -rage and disappointment from which,” said Sydney -Smith, “the Bishop of —— broke my head -with a chess-board fifty years ago at college.”</p> - -<p>But did we say that ladies, famed as some have -been in the hunting field, know anything of -cricket too? Not often; though I could have -mentioned two,—the wife and daughter of the late -William Ward, all three now no more, who could -tell you—the daughter especially—the forte and -the failing of every player at Lord’s. I accompanied -them home one evening, to see some records -of the game, to their humble abode in Connaught -Terrace, where many an ornament reminded me -of the former magnificence of the Member for the -City, the Bank Director, and the great Russia -merchant; and I thought of his mansion in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> -once not unfashionable Bloomsbury Square, the -banqueting room of which many a Wykehamist -has cause to remember; for when famed, as the -Wykehamists were, for the quickest and best of -fielding, they had won their annual match at -Lord’s (and twenty years since they rarely lost), -Mr. Ward would bear away triumphantly the -winners to end the day with him. But, talking -of the ladies, to say nothing of Miss Willes, who -revived overhand bowling, their natural powers -of criticism, if honestly consulted, would, we -think, tell some home truths to a certain class of -players who seem to forget that, to be a Cricketer -one must still be a man; and that a manly, graceful -style of play is worth something independently -of its effect on the score. Take the case of the -Skating Club. Will they elect a man because, -in spite of arms and legs centrifugally flying, he -can do some tricks of a posture-master, however -wonderful? No! elegance in simple movements -is the first thing: without elegance nothing -counts. And so should it be with cricket. I have -seen men, accounted players, quite as bad as some -of the cricketers in Mr. Pips’s diary. “Pray, -Lovell,” I once heard, “have I the right guard?” -“Guard indeed! Yes! keep on looking as ugly -and as awkward as you are now, and no man in -England can bowl for fright!” <i>Apropos</i>, one of -the first hints in archery is,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> “don’t make faces -when you pull your bow.” Now we do seriously -entreat those young ladies, into whose hands this -book may fall, to profess, on our authority, that -they are judges of the game as far as appearance -goes; and also that they will quiz, banter, tease, -lecture, never-leave-alone, and otherwise plague -and worry all such brothers or husbands as they -shall see enacting those anatomical contortions, -which too often disgrace the game of cricket.</p> - -<p>Cricket, we said, is a game chiefly of skill, but -partly of chance. Skill avails enough for interest, -and not too much for friendly feeling. No game -is played in better humour—never lost till won—the -game’s alive till the last ball. For the most -part, there is so little to ruffle the temper, or to -cause unpleasant collision, that there is no place -so free from temptation—no such happy plains or -lands of innocence—as our cricket-fields. We -give bail for our good behaviour from the moment -that we enter them. Still, a cricket-field is a -sphere of wholesome discipline in obedience and -good order; not to mention that manly spirit which -faces danger without shrinking, and bears disappointment -with good nature. Disappointment! -and say where is there more poignant disappointment, -while it lasts, than, after all your practice -for a match, and anxious thought and resolution -to avoid every chance, and score off every possible -ball, to be balked and run out, caught at the slip,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> -or stumped even off a shooter. “The course of -true love (even for cricket) never did run smooth.” -Old Robinson, one of the finest batsmen of his -day, had six unlucky innings in succession: once -caught by Hammond, from a draw; then bowled -with shooters, or picked up at short slip: the poor -fellow said he had lost all his play, thinking “the -fault is in ourselves, and not our stars;” and was -with difficulty persuaded to play one match more, -in which—whose heart does not rejoice to hear?—he -made one hundred and thirty runs!</p> - -<p>“But, as to stirring excitement,” writes a friend,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> -“what can surpass a hardly-contested match, when -you have been manfully playing an uphill game, -and gradually the figures on the telegraph keep -telling a better and a better tale, till at last the -scorers stand up and proclaim a tie, and you win -the game by a single and rather a nervous wicket, -or by five or ten runs! If in the field with a -match of this sort, and trying hard to prevent -these few runs being knocked off by the last -wickets, I know of no excitement so intense for -the time, or which lasts so long afterwards. The -recollection of these critical moments will make -the heart jump for years and years to come; and -it is extraordinary to see the delight with which -men call up these grand moments to memory; and -to be sure how they will talk and chatter, their -eyes glistening and pulses getting quicker, as if -they were again finishing ‘that rattling good -match.’ People talk of the excitement of a good -run with the Quorn or Belvoir hunt. I have now -and then tumbled in for these good things; and, -as far as my own feelings go, I can safely say that -a fine run is not to be compared to a good match; -and the excitement of the keenest sportsman is -nothing either in intensity or duration to that -caused by a ‘near thing’ at cricket. The next -good run takes the place of the other; whereas -hard matches, like the snow-ball, gather as they -go. This is my decided opinion; and that after -watching and weighing the subject for some years. -I have seen men tremble and turn pale at a near -match,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">‘<i>Quum spes arrectæ juvenum exultantiaque haurit</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Corda pavor pulsans</i>’—</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">while, through the field, the deepest and most -awful silence reigns, unbroken but by some -nervous fieldsman humming a tune or snapping -his fingers to hide his agitation.”</p> - -<p>“What a glorious sensation it is,” writes Miss -Mitford, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> ‘Our Village,’ “to be winning, winning, -winning! Who would think that a little -bit of leather and two pieces of wood had such -a delightful and delighting power?”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 id="CHAP_III">CHAP. III.<br /> -<span class="smaller">THE HAMBLEDON CLUB AND THE OLD PLAYERS.</span></h2> - -<p>What have become of the old scores and the -earliest records of the game of cricket? Bentley’s -Book of Matches gives the principal games from -the year 1786; but where are the earlier records -of matches made by Dehaney, Paulet, and Sir -Horace Mann? All burnt!</p> - -<p>What the destruction of Rome and its records -by the Gauls was to Niebuhr,—what the fire of -London was to the antiquary in his walk from -Pudding Lane to Pie Corner, such was the burning -of the Pavilion at Lord’s, and all the old score -books—it is a mercy that the old painting of the -M.C.C. was saved—to the annalist of cricket. -“When we were built out by Dorset Square,” -says Mr. E. H. Budd, “we played for three -years where the Regent’s Canal has since been -cut, and still called our ground ‘Lord’s,’ and -our dining-room ‘the Pavilion.’” Here many -a time have I looked over the old papers of -Dehaney and Sir H. Mann; but the room was -burnt, and the old scores perished in the flames.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -The following are curious as the two oldest scores -preserved,—one of the North, the other of the -South:—</p> - -<p class="center">NAMES OF THE PERSONS WHO PLAYED AGAINST -SHEFFIELD.</p> - -<p class="center">In 1771 at <span class="smcap">Nottingham</span>, and 1772 at <span class="smcap">Sheffield</span>.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 48%;"> - -<div class="list-container"> - -<p class="center">Nottingham, Aug. 26, 1771.</p> - -<ul> -<li>Huthwayte</li> -<li>Turner</li> -<li>Loughman</li> -<li>Coleman</li> -<li>Roe</li> -<li>Spurr</li> -<li>Stocks</li> -<li>Collishaw</li> -<li>Troop</li> -<li>Mew</li> -<li>Rawson.</li> -</ul> - -</div> - -<div class="table"> - -<table summary="Scores" class="small"> - <tr> - <th class="tdc" colspan="2">Sheffield.</th><th class="tdc border" colspan="2">Nottingham.</th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>1st inn.</td><td class="tdr">81</td><td class="border">1st inn.</td><td class="tdr">76</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>2nd</td><td class="tdr">62</td><td class="border">2nd</td><td class="tdr">112</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>3rd</td><td class="tdr">105</td><td class="border"></td><td class="tdr"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td></td><td class="tdr tdtotal">248</td><td class="border"></td><td class="tdr tdtotal">188</td> - </tr> -</table> - -</div> - -<p>Tuesday, 9 o’clock, a.m. -commenced, 8th man 0, 9th -5, 1 to come in, and only 60 -ahead, when the Sheffield left -the field.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 48%;"> - -<div class="list-container"> - -<p class="center">Sheffield, June 1, 1772.</p> - -<ul> -<li>Coleman</li> -<li>Turner</li> -<li>Loughman</li> -<li>Roe</li> -<li>Spurs</li> -<li>Stocks</li> -<li>Collishaw</li> -<li>Troop</li> -<li>Mew</li> -<li>Bamford</li> -<li>Gladwin.</li> -</ul> - -</div> - -<div class="table"> - -<table summary="Scores" class="small"> - <tr> - <th class="tdc" colspan="2">Nottingham.</th><th class="tdc border">Sheffield.</th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>1st inn.</td><td class="tdr">14</td><td class="tdc border">Near 70</td> - </tr> -</table> - -</div> - -<p>Nottingham gave in.</p> - -</div> - -<p style="clear: both;"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center">KENT AGAINST ALL ENGLAND.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Played in the Artillery-Ground, London, 1746.</i></p> - -<p class="center">ENGLAND.</p> - -<table summary="England scorecard" class="scorecard"> - <tr> - <th></th> - <th colspan="3" class="tdc"><i>1st Innings.</i></th> - <th colspan="3" class="tdc"><i>2nd Innings.</i></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td></td><td class="tdr smaller">RUNS.</td><td></td><td></td><td class="tdr smaller">RUNS.</td><td></td><td></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Harris</td><td class="tdr">0</td><td>b by</td><td>Hadswell</td><td class="tdr">4</td><td>b by</td><td>Mills.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Dingate</td><td class="tdr">3</td><td>b</td><td>Ditto</td><td class="tdr">11</td><td>b</td><td>Hadswell.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Newland</td><td class="tdr">0</td><td>b</td><td>Mills</td><td class="tdr">3</td><td>b</td><td>Ditto.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Cuddy</td><td class="tdr">0</td><td>b</td><td>Hadswell</td><td class="tdr">2</td><td>b</td><td>Danes.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Green</td><td class="tdr">0</td><td>b</td><td>Mills</td><td class="tdr">5</td><td>b</td><td>Mills.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Waymark</td><td class="tdr">7</td><td>b</td><td>Ditto</td><td class="tdr">9</td><td>b</td><td>Hadswell.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Bryan</td><td class="tdr">12</td><td>s</td><td>Kips</td><td class="tdr">7</td><td>c</td><td>Kips.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Newland</td><td class="tdr">18</td><td>—</td><td>not out</td><td class="tdr">15</td><td>c</td><td>Ld. J. Sackville.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Harris</td><td class="tdr">0</td><td>b</td><td>Hadswell</td><td class="tdr">1</td><td>b</td><td>Hadswell.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Smith</td><td class="tdr">0</td><td>c</td><td>Bartrum</td><td class="tdr">8</td><td>b</td><td>Mills.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Newland</td><td class="tdr">0</td><td>b</td><td>Mills</td><td class="tdr">5</td><td>—</td><td>not out.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdi1">Byes</td><td class="tdr">0</td><td></td><td class="tdi1">Byes</td><td class="tdr">0</td><td></td><td></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td></td><td class="tdr tdtotal">40</td><td></td><td></td><td class="tdr tdtotal">70</td><td></td><td></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p class="center">KENT.</p> - -<table summary="Kent scorecard" class="scorecard"> - <tr> - <th></th> - <th colspan="3" class="tdc"><i>1st Innings.</i></th> - <th colspan="3" class="tdc"><i>2nd Innings.</i></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td></td><td class="tdr smaller">RUNS.</td><td></td><td></td><td class="tdr smaller">RUNS.</td><td></td><td></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Lord Sackville</td><td class="tdr">5</td><td>c by</td><td>Waymark</td><td class="tdr">3</td><td>b by</td><td>Harris.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Long Robin</td><td class="tdr">7</td><td>b</td><td>Newland</td><td class="tdr">9</td><td>b</td><td>Newland.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Mills</td><td class="tdr">0</td><td>b</td><td>Harris</td><td class="tdr">6</td><td>c</td><td>Ditto.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Hadswell</td><td class="tdr">0</td><td>b</td><td>Ditto</td><td class="tdr">5</td><td>—</td><td>not out.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Cutbush</td><td class="tdr">3</td><td>c</td><td>Green</td><td class="tdr">7</td><td>—</td><td>not out.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Bartrum</td><td class="tdr">2</td><td>b</td><td>Newland</td><td class="tdr">0</td><td>b</td><td>Newland.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Danes</td><td class="tdr">6</td><td>b</td><td>Ditto</td><td class="tdr">0</td><td>c</td><td>Smith.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Sawyer</td><td class="tdr">0</td><td>c</td><td>Waymark</td><td class="tdr">5</td><td>b</td><td>Newland.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Kips</td><td class="tdr">12</td><td>b</td><td>Harris</td><td class="tdr">10</td><td>b</td><td>Harris.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Mills</td><td class="tdr">7</td><td>—</td><td>not out</td><td class="tdr">2</td><td>b</td><td>Newland.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Romney</td><td class="tdr">11</td><td>b</td><td>Harris</td><td class="tdr">8</td><td>c</td><td>Harris.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdi1">Byes</td><td class="tdr">0</td><td></td><td class="tdi1">Byes</td><td class="tdr">3</td><td></td><td></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td></td><td class="tdr tdtotal">53</td><td></td><td></td><td class="tdr tdtotal">58</td><td></td><td></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> - -<p>Cricket was introduced into Eton early in the -last century. Horace Walpole was sent to Eton -in the year 1726. Playing cricket, as well as -thrashing bargemen, was common at that time. -For in Walpole’s Letters, vol. i. p. 4., he says,—</p> - -<p>“I can’t say I am sorry I was never quite a -school-boy; an expedition against bargemen, or -<i>a match at cricket</i>, may be very pretty things to -recollect; but, thank my stars, I can remember -things that are very near as pretty.”</p> - -<p>The fourth Earl of Carlisle learnt cricket at -Eton at the same time. The Earl writes to George -Selwyn, even from Manheim, that he was up, playing -at cricket, before Selwyn was out of his bed.</p> - -<p>And now, the oldest chronicler is Old Nyren, -who wrote an account of the cricketers of his -time. The said Old Nyren borrowed the pen -of our kind friend Charles Cowden Clarke, to -whom John Keats dedicated an epistle, and who -rejoiced in the friendship of Charles Lamb; and -none but a spirit akin to Elia could have written -like “Old Nyren.” Nyren was a fine old English -yeomen, whose chivalry was cricket; and -Mr. Clarke has faithfully recorded his vivid descriptions -and animated recollections. And, with -this charming little volume in hand, and inkhorn -at my button, in 1837 I made a tour among the -cottages of William Beldham, and the few surviving -worthies of the same generation; and, having<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> -also the advantage of a MS. by the Rev. John -Mitford, taken from many a winter’s evening -with Old Fennex, I am happy to attempt the -best account that the lapse of time admits, of -cricket in the olden time.</p> - -<p>From a MS. my friend received from the late -Mr. William Ward, it appears that the wickets -were placed twenty-two yards apart as long since -as the year 1700; that stumps were then only -one foot high, but two feet wide. The width -some persons have doubted; but it is rendered -credible by the auxiliary evidence that there was, -in those days, width enough between the two -stumps for cutting the wide blockhole already -mentioned, and also because—whereas now we -hear of stumps and bails—we read formerly of -“two stumps with one stump laid across.”</p> - -<p>We are informed, also, that putting down the -wickets to make a man out in running, instead of -the old custom of popping the ball into the hole, -was adopted on account of severe injuries to the -hands, and that the wicket was changed at the -same time—1779-1780—to the dimensions of -twenty-two inches by six, with a third stump -added.</p> - -<p>Before this alteration the art of defence was -almost unknown: balls often passed over the -wicket, and often passed through. At the time -of the alteration Old Nyren truly predicted that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> -the innings would not be shortened but better -played. The long pod and curved form of the -bat, as seen in the old paintings, was made only -for hitting, and for ground balls too. Length -balls were then by no means common; neither -would low stumps encourage them: and even -upright play was then practised by very few. -Old Nyren relates that one Harry Hall, a gingerbread -baker of Farnham, gave peripatetic lectures -to young players, and always insisted on keeping -the left elbow well up; in other words, on straight -play. “Now-a-days,” said Beldham, “all the -world knows that; but when I began there was -very little length bowling, very little straight -play, and little defence either.” Fennex, said he, -was the first who played out at balls; before his -day, batting was too much about the crease. -Beldham said that his own supposed tempting of -Providence consisted in running in to hit. “You -do frighten me there jumping out of your ground, -said our Squire Paulet:” and Fennex used also -to relate how, when he played forward to the -pitch of the ball, his father “had never seen the -like in all his days;” the said days extending a -long way back towards the beginning of the -century. While speaking of going in to hit, -Beldham said,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> “My opinion has always been that -too little is attempted in that direction. Judge -your ball, and, when the least over-pitched, go in -and hit her away.” In this opinion Mr. C. -Taylor’s practice would have borne Beldham out: -and a fine dashing game this makes; only, it is a -game for none but practised players. When you -are perfect in playing in your ground, then, and -then only, try how you can play out of it, as the -best means to scatter the enemy and open the -field.</p> - -<p>“As to bowling,” continued Beldham, “when -I was a boy (about 1780), nearly all bowling was -fast, and all along the ground. In those days -the Hambledon Club could beat all England; -but our three parishes around Farnham at last -beat Hambledon.”</p> - -<p>It is quite evident that Farnham was the cradle -of cricketers. “Surrey,” in the old scores, means -nothing more than the Farnham parishes. This -corner of Surrey, in every match against All -England, was reckoned as part of Hampshire; and, -Beldham truly said “you find us regularly on the -Hampshire side in Bentley’s Book.”</p> - -<p>“I told you, sir,” said Beldham,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> “that in my -early days all bowling was what we called fast, or -at least a moderate pace. The first lobbing slow -bowler I ever saw was Tom Walker. When, in -1792, England played Kent, I did feel so ashamed -of such baby bowling; but, after all, he did more -than even David Harris himself. Two years -after, in 1794, at Dartford Brent, Tom Walker, -with his slow bowling, headed a side against -David Harris, and beat him easily.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Kent, in early times, was not equal to our -counties. Their great man was Crawte, and he -was taken away from our parish of Alresford by -Mr. Amherst, the gentleman who made the Kent -matches. In those days, except around our parts, -Farnham and the Surrey side of Hampshire, a -little play went a long way. Why, no man used -to be more talked of than Yalden; and, when he -came among us, we soon made up our minds what -the rest of them must be. If you want to know, -sir, the time the Hambledon Club was formed, I -can tell you by this;—when we beat them in -1780, I heard Mr. Paulet say, ‘Here have I been -thirty years raising our club, and are we to be -beaten by a mere parish?’ so, there must have -been a cricket club, that played every week regularly, -as long ago as 1750. We used to go as -eagerly to a match as if it were two armies fighting; -we stood at nothing if we were allowed the -time. From our parish to Hambledon is twenty-seven -miles, and we used to ride both ways the -same day, early and late. At last, I and John -Wells were about building a cart: you have heard -of tax carts, sir; well, the tax was put on then, -and that stopped us. The members of the Hambledon -Club had a caravan to take their eleven -about; they used once to play always in velvet -caps. Lord Winchelsea’s eleven used to play in -silver laced hats; and always the dress was knee-breeches -and stockings. We never thought of -knocks; and, remember, I played against Browne -of Brighton too. Certainly, you would see a bump -heave under the stocking, and even the blood -come through; but I never knew a man killed, -now you ask the question, and I never saw any -accident of much consequence, though many an -<i>all but</i>, in my long experience. Fancy the old -fashion before cricket shoes, when I saw John -Wells tear a finger nail off against his shoe-buckle -in picking up a ball!”</p> - -<p>“Your book, sir, says much about old Nyren. -This Nyren was fifty years old when I began to -play; he was our general in the Hambledon -matches; but not half a player, as we reckon now. -He had a small farm and inn near Hambledon, -and took care of the ground.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I remember when many things first came into -the game which are common now. The law for -Leg-before-wicket was not passed, nor much -wanted, till Ring, one of our best hitters, was -shabby enough to get his leg in the way, and take -advantage of the bowlers; and, when Tom Taylor, -another of our best hitters, did the same, the -bowlers found themselves beaten, and the law was -passed to make leg-before-wicket Out. The law -against jerking was owing to the frightful pace -Tom Walker put on, and I believe that he afterwards -tried something more like the modern -throwing-bowling, and so caused the words against -throwing also. Willes was not the inventor of -that kind of round bowling; he only revived what -was forgotten or new to the young folk.”</p> - -<p>“The umpires did not formerly pitch the -wickets. David Harris used to think a great deal -of pitching himself a good-wicket, and took much -pains in suiting himself every match day.”</p> - -<p>“Lord Stowell was fond of cricket. He employed -me to make a ground for him at Holt -Pound.”</p> - -<p>In the last century, when the waggon and the -packhorse supplied the place of the penny train, -there was little opportunity for those frequent -meetings of men from distant counties that now -puzzle us to remember who is North and who is -South, who is Surrey or who is Kent. The -matches then were truly county matches, and had -more of the spirit of hostile tribes and rival clans. -“There was no mistaking the Kent boys,” said -Beldham, “when they came staring in to the -Green Man. A few of us had grown used to -London, but Kent and Hampshire men had but -to speak, or even show themselves, and you need -not ask them which side they were on.” So the -match seemed like Sir Horace Mann and Lord -Winchelsea and their respective tenantry—for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> -when will the feudal system be quite extinct? -and there was no little pride and honour in the -parishes that sent them up, and many a flagon of -ale depending in the farms or the hop grounds -they severally represented, as to whether they -should, as the spirit-stirring saying was, “prove -themselves the better men.” “I remember in -one match,” said Beldham, “in Kent, Ring was -playing against David Harris. The game was -much against him. Sir Horace Mann was cutting -about with his stick among the daisies, and -cheering every run,—you would have thought his -whole fortune (and he would often bet some hundreds) -was staked upon the game; and, as a new -man was going in, he went across to Ring, and -said, ‘Ring, carry your bat through and make up -all the runs, and I’ll give you 10<i>l.</i> a-year for -life.’ Well, Ring was out for sixty runs, and -only three to tie, and four to beat, and the last -man made them. It was Sir Horace who took -Aylward away with him out of Hampshire, but -the best bat made but a poor bailiff, we heard.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Cricket was played in Sussex very early, -before my day at least; but, that there was no -good play I know by this, that Richard Newland, -of Slinden in Sussex, as you say, sir, taught old -Richard Nyren, and that no Sussex man could be -found to play him. Now, a second-rate player of -our parish beat Newland easily; so you may judge -what the rest of Sussex then were. But before -1780 there were some good players about Hambledon -and the Surrey side of Hampshire. -Crawte, the best of the Kent men, was stolen -away from us; so you will not be wrong, sir, in -writing down that Farnham, and thirty miles -round, reared all the best players up to my day, -about 1780.”</p> - -<p>“There were some who were then called ‘the -old players,’”—and here Fennex’s account quite -agreed with Beldham’s,—“including Frame and -old Small. And as to old Small, it is worthy of -observation, that Bennett declared it was part of -the creed of the last century, that Small was the -man who ‘found out cricket,’ or brought play to -any degree of perfection. Of the same school was -Sueter, the wicket-keeper, who in those days had -very little stumping to do, and Minshull and -Colshorn, all mentioned in Nyren.” “These men -played puddling about their crease and had no -freedom. I like to see a player upright and well -forward, to face the ball like a man. The Duke -of Dorset made a match at Dartford Brent between -‘the Old Players and the New.’—You laugh, -sir,” said this tottering silver-haired old man, -“but we all were New once;—well, I played -with the Walkers, John Wells, and the rest of -our men, and beat the Old ones very easily.”</p> - -<p>Old John Small died, the last, if not the first of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> -the Hambledonians, in 1826. Isaac Walton, the -father of Anglers, lived to the age of ninety-three. -This father of Cricketers was in his ninetieth -year. John Small played in all the great matches -till he was turned of seventy. A fine skater and -a good musician. But, how the Duke of Dorset -took great interest in John Small, and how his -Grace gave him a fiddle, and how John, like a -modern Orpheus, beguiled a wild bull of its fury -in the middle of a paddock, is it not written in -the book of the chronicles of the playmates of Old -Nyren?—In a match of Hambledon against All -England, Small kept up his wicket for three days, -and was not out after all. A pity his score is -unknown. We should like to compare it with -Mr. Ward’s.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Tom Walker was the most tedious fellow to -bowl to, and the slowest runner between wickets -I ever saw. Harry was the hitter,—Harry’s -half-hour was as good as Tom’s afternoon. I have -seen Noah Mann, who was as fast as Tom was -slow, in running a four, overtake him, pat him on -the back, and say, ‘Good name for you is <i>Walker</i>, -for you never was a runner.’ It used to be said -that David Harris had once bowled him 170 balls -for one run! David was a potter by trade, and -in a kind of skittle alley made between hurdles, -he used to practise bowling four different balls -from one end, and then picking them up he would -bowl them back again. His bowling cost him a -great deal of practice; but it proved well worth -his while, for no man ever bowled like him, -and he was always first chosen of all the men in -England.”—<i>Nil sine labore</i>, remember, young -cricketers all.—“‘Lambert’ (not the great player -of that name), said Nyren, ‘had a most deceitful -and teasing way of delivering the ball; he tumbled -out the Kent and Surrey men, one after -another, as if picked off by a rifle corps. His -perfection is accounted for by the circumstance -that when he was tending his father’s sheep, he -would set up a hurdle or two, and bowl away for -hours together.’</p> - -<p>“There was some good hitting in those days, -though too little defence. Tom Taylor would -cut away in fine style, almost after the manner of -Mr. Budd. Old Small was among the first members -of the Hambledon Club. He began to play -about 1750, and Lumpy Stevens at the same -time. I can give you some notion, sir, of what -cricket was in those days, for Lumpy, a very bad -bat, as he was well aware, once said to me, -‘Beldham, what do you think cricket must have -been in those days when I was thought a good -batsman?’ But fielding was very good as far -back as I can remember.”—Now, what Beldham -called good fielding must have been good enough. -He was himself one of the safest hands at a catch.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> -Mr. Budd, when past forty, was still one of the -quickest men I ever played with, taking always -middle wicket, and often, by swift running, doing -part of long field’s work. Sparks, Fennex, -Bennett, and young Small, and Mr. Parry, were -first rate, not to mention Beagley, whose style of -long stopping in the North and South Match of -1836, made Lord Frederick and Mr. Ward justly -proud of so good a representative of the game in -their younger days. Albeit, an old player of -seventy, describing the merits of all these men, -said, “put Mr. King at point, Mr. C. Ridding -long-stop, and Mr. W. Pickering cover, and I -never saw the man that could beat either of -them.”</p> - -<p>“John Wells was a most dangerous man in a -single wicket match, being so dead a shot at a -wicket. In one celebrated match, Lord Frederick -warned the Honourable H. Tufton to beware of -John; but John Wells found an opportunity of -maintaining his character by shying down, from -the side, little more than the single stump. Tom -Sheridan joined some of our matches, but he was -no good but to make people laugh. In our days -there were no padded gloves. I have seen Tom -Walker rub his bleeding fingers in the dust! -David used to say he liked to <i>rind</i> him.”</p> - -<p>“The matches against twenty-two were not -uncommon in the last century. In 1788 the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> -Hambledon Club played two-and-twenty at Cold -Ash Hill. ‘Drawing’ between leg and wicket is -not a new invention. Old Small, (b. 1737, d. -1826,) was famous for the draw, and, to increase -his facility he changed the crooked bat of his day -for a straight bat. There was some fine cutting -before Saunders’ day. Harry Walker was the first, -I believe, who brought cutting to perfection. The -next genuine cutter—for they were very scarce (I -never called mine cutting, not like that of Saunders -at least)—was Robinson. Walker and Robinson -would wait for the ball till all but past the -wicket, and then cut with great force. Others -made good Off-hits, but did not hit late enough for -a good Cut. I would never cut with slow bowling. -I believe that Walker, Fennex, and myself, first -opened the old players’ eyes to what could be -done with the bat; Walker by cutting, and -Fennex and I by forward play: but all improvement -was owing to David Harris’s bowling. His -bowling rose almost perpendicular: it was once -pronounced a jerk; it was altogether most extraordinary.—For -thirteen years I averaged forty-three -a match, though frequently I had only one innings; -but I never could half play unless runs were -really wanted.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAP_IV">CHAP. IV.<br /> -<span class="smaller">CRICKET GENERALLY ESTABLISHED AS A NATIONAL GAME -BY THE END OF THE LAST CENTURY.</span></h2> - -<p>Little is recorded of the Hambledon Club after -the year 1786. It broke up when Old Nyren left -it, in 1791; though, in this last year, the true -old Hambledon Eleven all but beat twenty-two of -Middlesex at Lord’s. Their cricket-ground on -Broadhalfpenny Down, in Hampshire, was so far -removed from the many noblemen and gentlemen -who had seen and admired the severe bowling of -David Harris, the brilliant hitting of Beldham, -and the interminable defence of the Walkers, that -these worthies soon found a more genial sphere -for their energies on the grounds of Kent, Surrey, -and Middlesex. Still, though the land was deserted, -the men survived; and imparted a knowledge -of their craft to gentles and simples far and -near.</p> - -<p>Most gladly would we chronicle that these -good men and true were actuated by a great and -a patriotic spirit, to diffuse an aid to civilisation—for -such our game claims to be—among their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> -wonder-stricken fellow-countrymen; but, in truth, -we confess that “reaping golden opinions” and -coins, “from all kinds of men,” as well as that -indescribable tumult and those joyous emotions -which attend the ball, vigorously propelled or -heroically stopped, while hundreds of voices shout -applause,—that such stirring motives, more powerful -far with vain-glorious man than any “dissolving -views” of abstract virtue, tended to the migration -of the pride of Hambledon. Still, doubtful -though the motive, certain is the fact, that the -old Hambledon players did carry their bats and -stumps out of Hampshire into the adjoining counties, -and gradually, like all great commanders, -taught their adversaries to conquer too. In some -instances, as with Lord Winchelsea, Mr. Amherst, -and others, noblemen combined the <i>utile dulci</i>, -pleasure and business, and retained a great player -as a keeper or a bailiff, as Martingell once was -engaged by Earl Ducie. In other instances, the -play of the summer led to employment through -the winter; or else these busy bees lived on the -sweets of their sunshine toil, enjoying <i>otium cum -dignitate</i>—that is, living like gentlemen, with -nothing to do.</p> - -<p>This accounts for our finding these Hampshire -men playing Kent matches; being, like a learned -Lord in Punch’s picture, “naturalised everywhere,” -or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> “citizens of the world.”</p> - -<p>Let us trace these Hambledonians in all their -contests, from the date mentioned (1786 to 1800), -the eventful period of the French Revolution and -Nelson’s victories; and let us see how the Bank -stopping payment, the mutiny of the fleet, and the -threatened invasion, put together, did not prevent -balls from flying over the tented field, in a far -more innocent and rational way on this, than on -the other side, of the water.</p> - -<p>Now, what were the matches in the last century—“eleven -gentlemen against the twelve -Cæsars?” No! these, though ancient names, are -of modern times. Kent and England was as -good an annual match in the last, as in the -present century. The White Conduit Fields -and the Artillery Ground supplied the place of -Lord’s, though in 1787 the name of Lord’s is -found in Bentley’s matches, implying, of course, -the old Marylebone Ground, now Dorset Square, -under Thomas Lord, and not the present by St. -John’s Wood, more properly deserving the name -of Dark’s than Lord’s. The Kentish battlefields -were Sevenoaks—the land of Clout, one of -the original makers of cricket-balls,—Coxheath, -Dandelion Fields, in the Isle of Thanet, and -Cobham Park; also Dartford Brent and Pennenden -Heath: there is also early mention of Gravesend, -Rochester, and Woolwich.</p> - -<p>Next in importance to the Kent matches were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> -those of Hampshire and of Surrey, with each of -which counties indifferently the Hambledon men -used to play. For it must not be supposed that -the whole county of Surrey put forth a crop of -stumps and wickets all at once: we have already -said that malt and hops and cricket have ever -gone together. Two parishes in Surrey, adjoining -Hants, won the original laurels for their county; -parishes in the immediate vicinity of the Farnham -hop country. The Holt, near Farnham, and -Moulsey Hurst, were the Surrey grounds. The -match might truly have been called “Farnham’s -hop-gatherers <i>v.</i> those of Kent.” The former, -aided occasionally by men who drank the ale of -Alton, just as Burton-on-Trent, life-sustainer to -our Indian empire, sends forth its giants, refreshed -with bitter ale, to defend the honour of the neighbouring -towns and counties. The men of Hampshire, -after Broadhalfpenny was abandoned to -docks and thistles, pitched their tents generally -either upon Windmill Downs or upon Stoke -Downs; and once they played a match against -T. Assheton Smith, whose mantle has descended -on a worthy representative, whether on the level -turf or by the cover side. Albeit, when that gentleman -has a “meet” (as occasionally advertised) -at Hambledon, he must unconsciously avoid the -spot where “titch and turn”—the Hampshire cry—did -once exhilarate the famous James Aylward,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> -among others, as he astonished the Farnham waggoner, -by continuing one and the same innings as -the man drove up on the Tuesday afternoon and -down on the Wednesday morning! This match -was played at Andover, and the surnames of most -of the Eleven may be read on the tombstones -(with the best of characters) in Andover Churchyard. -Bourne Paddock, Earl Darnley’s estate, -and Burley Park, in Rutlandshire, constituted -often the debateable ground in their respective -counties. Earl Darnley, as well as Sir Horace -Mann and Earl Winchelsea, Mr. Paulet and Mr. -East, lent their names and patronage to Elevens; -sometimes in the places mentioned, sometimes at -Lord’s, and sometimes at Perriam Downs, near -Luggershal, in Wiltshire.</p> - -<p>Middlesex also, exclusively of the Marylebone -Club, had its Eleven in these days; or, we should -say, its <i>twenty-two</i>, for that was the number then -required to stand the disciplined forces of Hampshire, -Kent, or England. And this reminds us of -an “Uxbridge ground,” where Middlesex played -and lost; also, of “Hornchurch, Essex,” where -Essex, in 1791, was sufficiently advanced to win -against Marylebone, an occasion memorable, because -Lord Frederick Beauclerk there played -nearly his first recorded match, making scarce any -runs, but bowling four wickets. Lord Frederick’s -first match was at Lord’s, 2nd June, 1791.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> “There -was also,” writes the Hon. R. Grimston, “‘the -Bowling-green’ at Harrow-on-the-Hill, where -the school played: Richardson, who subsequently -became Mr. Justice Richardson, was the captain -of the School Eleven in 1782.”</p> - -<p>Already, in 1790, the game was spreading -northwards, or, rather, proofs exist that it had long -before struck far and wide its roots and branches -in northern latitudes; and also that it was a game -as popular with the men of labour as the men -of leisure, and therefore incontestably of home -growth: no mere exotic, or importation of the -favoured few, can cricket be, if, like its namesake, -it is found “a household word” with those whom -Burns aptly calls “the many-aproned sons of -mechanical life.”</p> - -<p>In 1791 Eton, that is, the old Etonians, played -Marylebone, four players given on either side; -and all true Etonians will thank us for informing -them, not only that the seven Etonians were more -than a match for their adversaries, but also that -this match proves that Eton had, at that early -date, the honour of sending forth the most distinguished -amateurs of the day; for Lord Winchelsea, -Hon. H. Fitzroy, Earl Darnley, Hon. E. -Bligh, C. Anguish, Assheton Smith—good men -and true—were Etonians all. This match was -played in Burley Park, Rutlandshire. On the following -day, June 25th, 1791, the Marylebone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -played eleven yeomen and artisans of Leicester; -and though the Leicestrians cut a sorry figure, -still the fact that the Midland Counties practised -cricket sixty years ago is worth recording. Peter -Heward, of Leicester, a famous wicket-keeper, of -twenty years since, told me of a trial match in -which he saw his father, quite an old man, with -another veteran of his own standing, quickly put -out with the old-fashioned slow bowling a really -good Eleven for some twenty runs—good, that -is, against the modern style of bowling; and cricket -was not a new game in this old man’s early days -(say 1780) about Leicester and Nottingham, as -the score in <a href="#Page_41">page 41</a> alone would prove; for such -a game as cricket, evidently of gradual development, -must have been played in some primitive -form many a long year before the date of 1775, in -which it had excited sufficient interest, and was -itself sufficiently matured in form, to show the two -Elevens of Sheffield and of Nottingham. Add -to this, what we have already mentioned, a rude -form of cricket as far north as Angus and Lothian -in 1700, and we can hardly doubt that cricket was -known as early in the Midland as in the Southern -Counties. The men of Nottingham—land of -Clarke, Barker, and Redgate—next month, in -the same year (1791) threw down the gauntlet, -and shared the same fate; and next day the -Marylebone, “adding,” in a cricketing sense,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> “insult -unto injury,” played twenty-two of them, -and won by thirteen runs.</p> - -<p>In 1790, the shopocracy of Brighton had also -an Eleven; and Sussex and Surrey, in 1792, sent -an eleven against England to Lord’s, who scored -in one innings 453 runs, the largest score on -record, save that of Epsom in 1815—476 in one -innings! “M.C.C. <i>v.</i> twenty-two of Nottingham,” -we now find an annual match; and also -“M.C.C. <i>v.</i> Brighton,” which becomes at once -worthy of the fame that Sussex long has borne. -In 1793, the old Westminster men all but beat -the old Etonians: and Essex and Herts, too near -not to emulate the fame of Kent and Surrey, were -content, like second-rate performers, to have, -though playing twenty-two, one Benefit between -them, in the shape of defeat in one innings from -England. And here we are reminded by two old -players, a Kent and an Essex man, that, being -schoolboys in 1785, they can respectively testify -that, both in Kent and in Essex, cricket appeared -to them more of a village game than they have -ever seen it of late years.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> “There was a cricket-bat -behind the door, or else up in the bacon rack, -in every cottage. We heard little of clubs, except -around London; still the game was played by -many or by few, in every school and village green -in Essex and in Kent, and the field placed much -as when with the Sidmouth I played the Teignbridge -Club in 1826. Mr. Whitehead was the -great hitter of Kent; and Frame and Small were -names as often mentioned as Pilch and Parr by -our boys now.” And now (1793) the game had -penetrated further West; for eleven yeomen at -Oldfield Bray, in Berkshire, had learned long -enough to be able to defeat a good eleven of the -Marylebone Club.</p> - -<p>In 1795, the Hon. Colonel Lennox, memorable -for a duel with the Duke of York, fought—where -the gallant Colonel had fought so many a less -hostile battle—on the cricket ground at Dartford -Brent, headed Elevens against the Earl of Winchelsea; -and now, first the Marylebone eleven -beat sixteen Oxonians on Bullingdon Green.</p> - -<p>In 1797, the Montpelier Club and ground -attract our notice. The name of this club is one -of the most ancient, and their ground a short -distance only from the ground of Hall of Camberwell.</p> - -<p>Swaffham, in Norfolk, is now mentioned for -the first time. But Norfolk lies out of the usual -road, and is a county which, as Mr. Dickens said -of Golden Square, before it was the residence of -Cardinal Wiseman, “is nobody’s way to or from -any place.” So, in those slow coach and packhorse -days, the patrons of Kent, Surrey, Hants, and -Marylebone, who alone gave to what else were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> -“airy nothing, a local habitation and a name,” -could not so easily extend their circuit to the land -of turkeys, lithotomy, and dumplings. But it -happened once that Lord Frederick Beauclerk was -heard to say, his eleven should beat any three -elevens in the county of Norfolk; whence arose a -challenge from the Norfolk men, whom, sure -enough, his Lordship did beat, and that in one -innings; and a print, though not on pocket-handkerchiefs, -was struck off to perpetuate this honourable -achievement.</p> - -<p>Lord F. Beauclerk was now one of the best -players of his day; as also were the Hon. H. and -I. Tufton. They frequently headed a division of -the Marylebone, or some county club, against -Middlesex, and sometimes Hampstead and Highgate.</p> - -<p>In this year (1798) these gentlemen aforesaid -made the first attempt at a match between the -Gentlemen and the Players; and on this first -occasion the players won; though when we mention -that the Gentlemen had three players given, -and also that T. Walker, Beldham, and Hammond -were the three, certainly it was like playing -England, “the part of England being left out by -particular desire.”</p> - -<p>Kent attacked England in 1798, but, being -beaten in about <i>half</i> an innings, we find the -Kentish men in 1800, though still hankering after -the same cosmopolitan distinction, modestly accept<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> -the odds of nineteen, and afterwards twenty-three, -men to twelve.</p> - -<p>The chief patronage, and consequently the -chief practice, in cricket, was beyond all comparison -in London. There, the play was nearly -all professional: even the gentlemen made a profession -of it; and therefore, though cricket was far -more extensively spread throughout the villages -of Kent than of Middlesex, the clubs of the metropolis -figure in the score books as defying all -competition. Professional players, we may observe, -have always a decided advantage in respect -of judicious choice and mustering their best men. -The best eleven on the side of the Players is -almost always known, and can be mustered on a -given day. Favour, friendship, and etiquette interfere -but little with their election; but the -eleven gentlemen of England are less easy to -muster,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“<i>Linquenda</i> Parish <i>et domus et placens</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Uxor</i>,”—</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">and they are never anything more than the best -eleven known to the party who make the match. -Besides, by the time an amateur is at his best, -he has duties which bid him retire.</p> - -<p>Having now traced the rise and progress of the -game from the time of its general establishment -to the time that Beldham had shown us the full<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> -powers of the bat, and Lord Frederick had (as -Fennex always declared) formed his style upon -Beldham’s; and since now we approach the era of -a new school, and the forward play of Fennex,—which -his father termed an innovation and presumption -“contrary to all experience,”—till the -same forward play was proved effectual by Lambert, -and Hammond had shown that, in spite of -wicket keepers, bowling, if uniformly slow, might -be met and hit away at the pitch;—now, we will -wait to characterise, in the words of eye-witnesses, -the heroes of the contests already mentioned.</p> - -<p>On “the Old Players” I may be brief; because, -the few old gentlemen (with one of whom I am in -daily communication) who have heard even the -names of the Walkers, Frame, Small, and David -Harris, are passing away, full of years, and almost -all the written history of the Old Players consists -in undiscriminating scores.</p> - -<p>In point of style the Old Players did not play -the steady game, with maiden overs, as at present. -The defensive was comparatively unknown: both -the bat and the wicket, and the style of bowling -too, were all adapted to a short life and a merry -one. The wooden substitute for a ball, as in Cat -and Dog, before described, evidently implied a -hitting, and not a stopping game.</p> - -<p>The Wicket, as we collect from a MS. furnished -by an old friend to the late William Ward, Esq.,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> -was, in the early days of the Hambledon Club, -one foot high and two feet wide, consisting of -two stumps only, with one stump laid across. -Thus, straight balls passed between, and, what we -now call, well pitched balls would of course rise -over. Where, then, was the encouragement to -block, when fortune would so often usurp the -place of science? And, as to the bat, look at the -picture of cricket as played in the old Artillery -Ground; the bat is curved at the end like a -hockey stick, or the handle of a spoon, and—as -common implements usually are adapted to the -work to be performed—you will readily believe -that in olden time the freest hitter was the best -batsman. The bowling was all along the ground, -hand and eye being everything, and judgment -nothing; because, the art originally was to bowl -under the bat. The wicket was too low for rising -balls; and the reason we hear sometimes of the -Blockhole was, not that the blockhole originally -denoted guard, but because between these two-feet-asunder -stumps there was cut a hole big -enough to contain the ball, and (as now with the -school boy’s game of rounders) the hitter was -made out in running a notch by the ball being -popped into this hole (whence popping crease) -before the point of the bat could reach it.</p> - -<p>Did we say Running a Notch? <i>unde</i> Notch? -What wonder ere the days of useful knowledge,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> -and Sir William Curtis’s three R’s,—or, reading, -writing, and arithmetic,—that natural science -should be evolved in a truly natural way: what -wonder that notches on a stick, like the notches -in the milk-woman’s tally in Hogarth’s picture, -should supply the place of those complicated -papers of vertical columns, which subject the -bowling, the batting, and the fielding to a process -severely and scrupulously just, of analytical -observation, or differential calculus! Where now -there sit on kitchen chairs, with ink bottle tied to -a stump the worse for wear, Messrs. Caldecourt -and Bayley (’tis pity two such men should ever -not be umpires), with an uncomfortable length of -paper on their knees, and large tin telegraphic -letters above their heads; and where now is Lillywhite’s -printing press, to hand down every hit as -soon as made on twopenny cards to future generations; -there, or in a similar position, old Frame, -or young Small (young once: he died in 1834, -aged eighty) might have placed a trusty yeoman -to cut notches with his bread-and-bacon knife on -an ashen stick. Oh! ’tis enough to make the -Hambledon heroes sit upright in their graves with -astonishment to think, that in the Gentlemen and -Players’ Match, in 1850, the cricketers of old -Sparkes’ Ground, at Edinburgh, could actually -know the score of the first innings in London, -before the second had commenced!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> - -<p>But when we say that the old players had -little or nothing of the defensive, we speak of the -play before 1780, when David Harris flourished: -for William Beldham distinctly assured us that -the art of bowling over the bat by “length balls” -originated with the famous David; an assertion, -we will venture to say, which requires a little, -and only a little, qualification. Length bowling, -or three-quarter balls, to use a popular, though -exploded, expression, was introduced in David’s -time, and by him first brought to perfection. -And what rather confirms this statement is, that -the early bowlers were very swift bowlers,—such -was not only David, but the famous Brett, of -earlier date, and Frame of great renown: a more -moderate pace resulted from the new discovery -of a well pitched bail ball.</p> - -<p>The old players well understood the art of -twisting, or bias bowling. Lambert, “the little -farmer,” says Nyren, “improved on the art, and -puzzled the Kent men in a great match, by twisting -the reverse of the usual way,—that is, from -the off to leg stump.” Tom Walker tried what -Nyren calls the throwing-bowling, and defied all -the players of the day to withstand this novelty; -but, by a council of the Hambledon Club, this -was forbidden, and Willes, a Kent man, had all the -praise of inventing it some twenty years later. -In a match of the Hambledon Club in 1775, -it was observed, at a critical point of the game,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> -that the ball passed three times between Small’s -two stumps without knocking off the bail; and -then, first, a third stump was added; and, seeing -that the new style of balls which rise over the -bat rose also over the wickets, then but one -foot high, the wicket was altered to the dimensions -of 22 inches by 6, at which measure it -remained till about 1814, when it was increased -to 26 inches by 8, and again to its present<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> -dimensions of 27 inches by 8 in 1817; when, as -one inch was added to the stumps, two inches were -added to the width between the creases. The -changes in the wicket are represented in the -foregoing woodcut. In the year 1700, the runner -was made out, not by striking off the transverse -stump—we can hardly call it a bail—but by -popping the ball in the hole therein represented.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/wicket.jpg" width="500" height="550" alt="A diagram of the historic dimensions of the wicket" /> -</div> - -<p>David Harris’ bowling, Fennex used to say, -introduced, or at least established and fixed, a -steady and defensive style of batting. “I have -seen,” said Sparkes, “seventy or eighty runs in -an innings, though not more than eight or nine -made at Harris’s end.” “Harris,” said an excellent -judge, who well remembers him, “had nearly all -the quickness of rise and the height of delivery, -which characterises overhand bowling, with far -greater straightness and precision. The ball appeared -to be forced out from under his arm with -some unaccountable jerk, so that it was delivered -breast high. His precision exceeded anything I -have ever seen, in so much that Tom Walker -declared that, on one occasion, where turf was -thin, and the colour of the soil readily appeared, -one spot was positively uncovered by the repeated -pitching of David’s balls in the same place.”</p> - -<p>“This bowling,” said Sparkes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> “compelled you -to make the best of your reach forward; for if -a man let the ball pitch too near and crowd upon -him, he very rarely could prevent a mistake, from -the height and rapidity with which the ball cut -up from the ground.”—This account agrees with -the well-known description of Nyren. “Harris’s -mode of delivering the ball was very singular. -He would bring it from under his arm by a twist, -and nearly as high as his arm-pit, and with this -action push it, as it were, from him. How it was -that the balls acquired the velocity they did by -this mode of delivery, I never could comprehend. -His balls were very little beholden to the ground; -it was but a touch and up again; and woe be to -the man who did not get in to block them, for -they had such a peculiar curl they would grind -his fingers against the bat.”</p> - -<p>And Nyren agrees with my informants in -ascribing great improvement in batting, and he -specifies, “particularly in stopping” (for the act -of defence, we said, was not essential to the -batsman in the ideas of one of the old players), to -the bowling of David Harris, and bears testimony -to an assertion, that forward play, that is meeting -at the pitch balls considerably short of a half -volley, was little known to the oldest players, and -was called into requisition chiefly by the bowling -of David Harris. Obviously, with the primitive -fashion of ground bowling, called sneakers, forward -play could have no place, and even well-pitched -balls, like those of Peter Stevens, <i>alias</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> -Lumpy, of moderate pace might be played with -some effect, even behind the crease; but David -Harris, with pace, pitch, and rapid rise combined, -imperatively demanded a new invention, and such -was forward play about 1800. Old Fennex, who -died, alas! in a Middlesex workhouse, aged eighty, -in 1839 (had his conduct been as straightforward -and upright as his bat, he would have known a -better end), always declared that he was the first, -and remained long without followers; and no -small praise is due to the boldness and originality -that set at nought the received maxims of his -forefathers before he was born or thought of; -daring to try things that, had they been ordinarily -reasonable, would not, of course, have been ignored -by Frame, by Purchase, nor by Small. The -world wants such men as Fennex; men, who -will shake off the prejudices of birth, parentage, -and education, and boldly declare that age has -taught them wisdom, and that the policy of their -predecessors, however expensively stereotyped, -must be revised and corrected and adapted to the -demands of a more inquiring generation. “My -father,” said Fennex, “asked me how I came by -that new play, reaching out as no one ever saw -before.” The same style he lived to see practised, -not elegantly, but with wonderful power and -effect by Lambert, “a most severe and resolute -hitter;” and Fennex also boasted that he had a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> -most proficient disciple in Fuller Pilch: though -I suspect that, as “<i>poeta nascitur non fit</i>,”—that -is, that all great performers appear to have -brought the secret of their excellence into the -world along with them, and are not the mere -puppets of which others pull the strings—Fuller -Pilch may think he rather coincided with, than -learnt from, William Fennex.</p> - -<p>Now the David Harris aforesaid, who wrought -quite a revolution in the game, changing cricket -from a backward and a slashing to a forward and -defensive game, and claiming higher stumps to do -justice to his skill—this David, whose bowling -was many years in advance of his generation, having -all the excellence of Lillywhite’s high delivery, -though free from all imputation of unfairness—this -David rose early, and late took rest, and ate -the bread of carefulness, before he attained such -distinction as—in these days of railroads, Thames -tunnels, and tubular gloves and bridges—to deserve -the notice of our pen. “For,” said John -Bennett, “you might have seen David practising -at dinner time and after hours, all the winter -through;” and “many a Hampshire barn,” said -Beagley, “has been heard to resound with bats -and balls as well as threshing.”</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse indent6">“<i>Nil sine magno,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Vita labore dedit mortalibus.</i>”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>And now we must mention the men, who, at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> -the end of the last century, represented the Pilch, -the Parr, the Wenman, and the Wisden of the -present day.</p> - -<p>Lord Beauclerk was formed on the style of -Beldham, whom, in brilliancy of hitting, he nearly -resembled. The Hon. H. Bligh and Hon. H. -Tufton were of the same school. Sir Peter -Burrell was also a good hitter. And these were the -most distinguished gentlemen players of the day. -Earl Winchelsea was in every principal match, -but rather for his patronage than his play: and -the Hon. Col. Lennox for the same reason. -Mr. R. Whitehead was a Kent player of great -celebrity. But Lord F. Beauclerk was the only -gentleman who had any claim in the last century -to play in an All England eleven. He was also -one of the fastest runners. Hammond was the -great wicket-keeper; but then the bowling was -slow: Sparkes said he saw him catch out Robinson -by a draw between leg and wicket. Freemantle -was the first long stop; but Ray the finest field in -England; and in those days, when the scores were -long, fielding was of even more consideration than -at present. Of the professional players, Beldham, -Hammond, Tom and Harry Walker, Freemantle, -Robinson, Fennex, J. Wells, and J. Small were -the first chosen after Harris had passed away; -for, Nyren says that even Lord Beauclerk could -hardly have seen David Harris in his prime. At<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> -this time there was a sufficient number of players -to maintain the credit of the left hands. On the -10th of May, 1790, the Left-handed beat the -Right by thirty-nine runs. This match reveals -that Harris and Aylward, and the three best -Kent players, Brazier, Crawe, and Clifford,—Sueter, -the first distinguished wicket-keeper,—H. -Walker, and Freemantle were all left-handed: -so also was Noah Mann.</p> - -<p>The above-mentioned players are quite sufficient -to give some idea of the play of the last century. -Sparkes is well known to the author of these -pages as his quondam instructor. In batting he -differed not widely from the usual style of good -players, save that he never played forward to any -very great extent. Playing under leg, according -to the old fashion (we call it old-fashioned though -Pilch adopts it), served instead of the far more -elegant and efficient “draw.” Sparkes was also -a fair bias bowler, but of no great pace, and not -very difficult. I remember his saying that the -old school of slow bowling was beaten by Hammond’s -setting the example of running in. “Hammond,” -he said, “on one occasion hit back a slow -ball to Lord F. Beauclerk with such frightful -force that it just skimmed his Lordship’s unguarded -head, and he had scarcely nerve to bowl -after.” Of Fennex we can also speak from our -friend the Rev. John Mitford. Fennex was a fair<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> -straightforward hitter, and once as good a single-wicket -player as any in England. His attitude -was easy, and he played elegantly, and hit well -from the wrist. If his bowling was any specimen -of that of his contemporaries, they were by no -means to be despised. His bowling was very -swift and of high delivery, the ball cut and ground -up with great quickness and precision. Fennex -used to say that the men of the present day had -little idea of what the old underhand bowling -really could effect; and, from the specimen which -Fennex himself gave at sixty-five years of age, -there appeared to be much reason in his assertion. -Of all the players Fennex had ever seen (for some -partiality for bygone days we must of course -allow) none elicited his notes of admiration like -Beldham. We cannot compare a man who played -underhand, with those who are formed on overhand, -bowling. Still, there is reason to believe -what Mr. Ward and others have told us, that -Beldham had that genius for cricket, that wonderful -eye (although it failed him very early), and -that quickness of hand, which would have made -him a great player in any age.</p> - -<p>Beldham related to us in 1838, and that with -no little nimbleness of hand and vivacity of eye, -while he suited the action to the word with a bat -of his own manufacture, how he had drawn forth -the plaudits of Lords’ as he hit round and helped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> -on the bowling of Browne of Brighton, even -faster than before, though the good men of -Brighton thought that no one could stand against -him, and Browne had thought to bowl Beldham -off his legs. This match of Hants against -England in 1819 Fennex was fond of describing, -and certainly it gives some idea of what Beldham -could do. “Osbaldeston,” said Mr. Ward, “with -his tremendously fast bowling, was defying every -one at single wicket, and he and Lambert -challenged Mr. E. H. Budd with three others. -Just then I had seen Browne’s swift bowling, and -a hint from me settled the match. Browne was -engaged, and Osbaldeston was beaten with his -own weapons.” A match was now made to give -Browne a fair trial, and “we were having a social -glass,” said Fennex, “and talking over with -Beldham the match of the morrow at the ‘Green -Man,’ when Browne came in, and told Beldham, -with as much sincerity as good-humour, that he -should soon send his stumps a-flying.” “Hold -there,” said Beldham, fingering his bat, “you will -be good enough to allow me this bit of wood, -won’t you?” “Certainly,” said Browne. “Quite -satisfied,” answered Beldham, “so to-morrow you -shall see.” “Seventy-two runs,” said Fennex,—and -the score-book attests his accuracy,—“was -Beldham’s first and only innings;” and, Beagley -also joined with Fennex, and assured us, that he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> -never saw a more complete triumph of a batsman -over a bowler. Nearly every ball was cut or -slipped away till Browne hardly dared to bowl -within Beldham’s reach.</p> - -<p>We desire not to qualify the praises of Beldham, -but when we hear that he was unrivalled in -elegant and brilliant hitting, and in that wonderful -versatility which cut indifferently, quick as -lightning, all round him, we cannot help remarking, -that such bowling as that of Redgate or of -Wisden renders imperatively necessary a severe -style of defence, and an attitude of cautious watchfulness, -which must render the batsman not quite -such a picture for the artist as might be seen in -the days of Beldham and Lord F. Beauclerk.</p> - -<p>So far we have traced the diffusion of the game, -and the degrees of proficiency attained, to the -beginning of the present century. To sum up -the evidence, by the year 1800, cricket had become -the common pastime of the common people -in Hampshire, Surrey, Sussex, and Kent, and had -been introduced into the adjoining counties; and -though we cannot trace its continuity beyond -Rutlandshire and Burley Park, certainly it had -been long familiar to the men of Leicester and -Nottingham as well as Sheffield;—that, in point -of Fielding generally, this was already as good, and -quite as much valued in a match, as it has been -since; while Wicket-keeping in particular had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> -ably executed by Sueter, for he could stump off -Brett, whose pace Nyren, acquainted as he was -with all the bowlers to the days of Lillywhite, -called quite of the steam-engine power, albeit no -wicket-keeper could shine like Wenman or Box, -except with the regularity of overhand bowling; -and already Bowlers had attained by bias and -quick delivery all the excellence which underhand -bowling admits. Still, as regards Batting, the -very fact that the stumps remained six inches -wide, by twenty-two inches in height, undeniably -proves that the secret of success was limited to -comparatively a small number of players.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAP_V">CHAP. V.<br /> -<span class="smaller">THE FIRST TWENTY YEARS OF THE PRESENT CENTURY.</span></h2> - -<p>Before this century was one year old, David -Harris, Harry Walker, Purchase, Aylward, and -Lumpy had left the stage, and John Small, instead -of hitting bad balls whose stitches would -not last a match, had learnt to make commodities -so good that Clout’s and Duke’s were mere toy-shop -in comparison. Noah Mann was the Caldecourt, -or umpire, of the day, and Harry Bentley -also, when he did not play. Five years more -saw nearly the last of Earl Winchelsea, Sir -Horace Mann, Earl Darnley, and Lord Yarmouth; -still Surrey had a generous friend in -Mr. Laurell, Hants in Mr. T. Smith, and Kent -in the Honourables H. and J. Tufton. The Pavilion -at Lord’s, then and since 1787 on the site -of Dorset Square, was attended by Lord Frederick -Beauclerk, then a young man of four-and-twenty, -the Honourables Colonel Bligh, Colonel -Lennox, H. and J. Tufton, and A. Upton. Also, -there were usually Messrs. R. Whitehead, G. Leycester, -S. Vigne, and F. Ladbroke. These were -the great promoters of the matches, and the first -of the amateurs. Cricket was one of Lord Byro<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>n’s -favourite sports, and that in spite of his -lame foot: witness the lines,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“Together join’d in cricket’s manly toil,</div> -<div class="verse">Or shared the produce of the river’s spoil.”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">Byron mentions in his letters that he played in -the eleven of Harrow against Eton in 1805. The -score is given in Lillywhite’s Public-School -Matches.</p> - -<p>The excellent William Wilberforce was fond -of cricket, and was laid up by a severe blow on -the leg at Rothley while playing with his sons: -he says the doctor told him a little more would -have broken the bone.</p> - -<p>Cricket, we have shown, was originally classed -among the games of the lower orders; so we find -the yeomen infinitely superior to the gentlemen -even before cricket had become by any means so -much of a profession as it is now. Tom Walker, -Beldham, John Wells, Fennex, Hammond, Robinson, -Lambert, Sparkes, H. Bentley, Bennett, -Freemantle, were the best professionals of the -day. For it was seven or eight years later that -Mr. E. H. Budd, and his unequal rival, Mr. Brand, -and his sporting friend, Osbaldeston, as also that -fine player, E. Parry, Esq., severally appeared; -and later still, that Mr. Ward, Howard, Beagley, -Thumwood, Caldecourt, Slater, Flavel, Ashby, -Searle, and Saunders, successively showed every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> -resource of bias bowling to shorten the scores, and -of fine hitting to lengthen them. By the end of -these twenty years, all these distinguished players -had taught a game in which the batting beat the -bowling. “Cricket,” said Mr. Ward, “unlike -hunting, shooting, fishing, or even yachting, -was a sport that lasted three days;” the wicket -had been twice enlarged, once about 1814, and -again in 1817; old Lord had tried his third, the -present, ground; the Legs had taught the wisdom -of playing rather for love than money; slow -coaches had given way to fast, long whist to -short; and ultimately Lambert, John Wells, -Howard, and Powell, handed over the ball to -Broadbridge and Lillywhite.</p> - -<p>Such is the scene, the characters, and the performance. -“Matches in those days were more -numerously attended than now,” said Mr. Ward: -the old game was more attractive to spectators, -because more busy, than the new. Tom Lord’s -flag was the well known telegraph that brought -him in from three to four thousand sixpences -at a match. John Goldham, the octogenarian -inspector of Billingsgate, has seen the Duke -of York and his adversary, the Honourable -Colonel Lennox, in the same game, and had -the honour of playing with both, and the Prince -Regent, too, in the White Conduit Fields, -on which spot Mr. Goldham built his present<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> -house. For the Prince was a great lover of the -game, and caused the “Prince’s Cricket Ground” -to be formed at Brighton. The late Lord Barrymore, -killed by the accidental discharge of a -blunderbuss in his phaeton, was an enthusiastic -cricketer. The Duke of Richmond, when Colonel -Lennox, a nobleman whose life and spirits and -genial generous nature made him beloved by all, -exulted in this as in all athletic sports: the bite -of a fox killed him. Then, as you drive through -Russell Square, behold the statue of another -patron, the noble-born and noble-minded Duke of -Bedford; and in Dorset Square, the site of old -Lord’s Ground, you may muse and fancy you see, -where now is some “modest mansion,” the identical -mark called the “Duke’s strike,” which long recorded -a hit, 132 yards in the air, from the once -famous bat of Alexander, late Duke of Hamilton. -Great matches in those days, as in these, cost -money. Six guineas if they won and four if they -lost, was the player’s fee; or, five and three if they -lived in town. So, as every match cost some -seventy pounds, over the fire-place at Lord’s you -would see a Subscription List for Surrey against -England, or for England against Kent, as the case -might be, and find notices of each interesting -match at Brookes’s and other clubs.</p> - -<p>This custom of advertising cricket matches is -of very ancient date. For, in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> “British Champion” -of Sep. 8. 1743, a writer complains that -though “noblemen, gentlemen, and clergymen -may divert themselves as they think fit,” and -though he “cannot dispute their privilege to make -butchers, cobblers, or tinkers their companions,” -he very much doubts “whether they have any -right to invite <i>thousands of people</i> to be spectators -of their agility.” For, “it draws numbers of -people from their employment to the ruin of their -families. It is a most notorious breach of the -laws—the advertisements most impudently reciting -that great sums are laid.” And, in the year -following (1744), as we read in the “London Magazine,” -Kent beat all England in the Artillery -Ground, in the presence of “their Royal Highnesses -the Prince of Wales, the Duke of Cumberland, -the Duke of Richmond, Admiral Vernon, -and many other persons of distinction.” How -pleasing to reflect that those sunny holidays we -enjoy at Lord’s have been enjoyed by the people -for more than a century past!</p> - -<p>But what were the famous cricket Counties in -these twenty years? The glory of Kent had for -a while departed. Time was when Kent could -challenge England man for man; but now, only -with such odds as twenty-three to twelve! As to -the wide extension of cricket, it advanced but -slowly then compared with recent times. A small -circle round London would still comprise all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> -finest players. It was not till 1820 that Norfolk, -forgetting its three Elevens beaten by Lord Frederick, -again played Marylebone; and, though three -gentlemen were given and Fuller Pilch played—then -a lad of seventeen years—Norfolk lost by -417 runs, including Mr. Ward’s longest score on -record,—278. “But he was missed,” said Mr. -Budd, “the easiest possible catch before he had -scored thirty.” Still it was a great achievement; -and Mr. Morse preserves, as a relic, the identical -ball, and the bat which hit that ball about, a trusty -friend that served its owner fifty years! Kennington -Oval, perhaps, was then all docks and thistles. -Surrey still stood first of cricket counties, and -Mr. Laurell—Robinson was his keeper; an awful -man for poachers, 6 feet 1 inch, and 16 stone, and -strong in proportion—most generous of supporters, -was not slow to give orders on old Thomas Lord -for golden guineas, when a Surrey man, by catch -or innings, had elicited applause. Of the same -high order were Sir J. Cope of Bramshill Park, -and Mr. Barnett, the banker, promoter of the B. -matches; the Hon. D. Kinnaird, and, last not least, -Mr. W. Ward, who by purchase of a lease saved -Lord’s from building ground; an act of generosity -in which he imitated the good old Duke of -Dorset, who, said Mr. Budd,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> “gave the ground -called the Vine, at Sevenoaks, by a deed of trust, -for the use of cricketers for ever.”</p> - -<p>The good men of Surrey, in 1800, monopolised -nearly all the play of England. Lord Frederick -Beauclerk and Hammond were the only All England -players who were not Surrey men.</p> - -<p>Kent had then some civil contests—petty wars -of single clans—but no county match; and their -great friend R. Whitehead, Esq., depended on -the M.C.C. for his finest games. The game had -become a profession: a science to the gentlemen, -and an art or handicraft to the players; and -Farnham found in London the best market for -its cricket, as for its hops. The best Kent play -was displayed at Rochester, and yet more at -Woolwich; but chiefly among our officers, whose -bats were bought in London, not at Sevenoaks. -These games reflected none such honour to the -county as when the Earls of Thanet and of Darnley -brought their own tenantry to Lord’s or Dartford -Brent, armed with the native willow wood of -Kent. So, the Honourables H. and A. Tufton -were obliged to yield to the altered times, and -play two-and-twenty men where their noble -father, the Earl of Thanet, had won with his eleven. -“Thirteen to twenty-three was the number we -enjoyed,” said Sparkes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> “for with thirteen good -men well placed, and the bowling good, we did -not want their twenty-three. A third man On, -and a forward point, or kind of middle wicket, -with slow bowling, or an extra slip with fast, -made a very strong field: the Kent men were -sometimes regularly pounded by our fielding.”</p> - -<p>In 1805 we find a curious match: the “twelve -best against twenty-three next best.” Lord Frederick -was the only amateur among the “best”; but -Barton, one of the “next best” among the latter, -scored 87; not out. Mr. Budd first appeared -at Lord’s in 1802 as a boy: he reappeared in -1808, and was at once among the longest scorers.</p> - -<p>The Homerton Club also furnished an annual -match: still all within the sound of Bow bells. -“To forget Homerton,” said Mr. Ward, “were -to ignore Mr. Vigne, our wicket-keeper, but one -of very moderate powers. Hammond was the -best we ever had. Hammond played till his sixtieth -year; but Browne and Osbaldeston put all -wicket-keeping to the rout. Hammond’s great -success was in the days of slow bowling. John -Wells and Howard were our two best fast bowlers, -though Powell was very true. Osbaldeston -beat his side with byes and slips—thirty-two byes -in the B. match.” Few men could hit him before -wicket; whence the many single-wicket matches -he played; but Mr. Ward put an end to his reign -by finding out Browne of Brighton. Beagley -said of Browne, as the players now say of Mr. -Fellows, they had no objection to him when the -ground was smooth.</p> - -<p>The Homerton Club also boasted of Mr. Ladbroke,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> -one of the great promoters of matches, as -well as the late Mr. Aislabie, always fond of the -game, but all his life “too big to play,”—the remark -by Lord Frederick of Mr. Ward, which, -being repeated, did no little to develop the latent -powers of that most efficient player.</p> - -<p>The Montpelier Club, also, with men given, -annually played Marylebone.</p> - -<p>Lord Frederick, in 1803, gave a little variety -to the matches by leading against Marylebone ten -men of Leicester and Nottingham, including the -two Warsops. “T. Warsop,” said Clarke, “was -one of the best bowlers I ever knew.” Clarke -has also a high opinion of Lambert, from whom, -he says, he learnt more of the game than from -any other man.</p> - -<p>Lambert’s bowling was like Mr. Budd’s, against -which I have often played: a high underhand delivery, -slow, but rising very high, very accurately -pitched, and turning in from leg stump. “About -the year 1818, Lambert and I,” said Mr. Budd, -“attained to a kind of round-armed delivery -(described as Clarke’s), by which we rose decidedly -superior to all the batsmen of the day. -Mr. Ward could not play it, but he headed a -party against us, and our new bowling was ignored.” -Tom Walker and Lord Frederick were -of the tediously slow school; Lambert and Budd -were several degrees faster. Howard and John -Wells were the fast underhand bowlers.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p> - -<p>Lord Frederick was a very successful bowler, -and inspired great confidence as a general: his -bowling was at last beaten by men running into -him. Sparkes mentioned another player who -brought very slow bowling to perfection, and was -beaten in the same way. Beldham thought Mr. -Budd’s bowling better than Lord Frederick’s; -Beagley said the same.</p> - -<p>His Lordship is generally supposed to have -been the best amateur of his day; so said Caldecourt; -also Beagley, who observed his Lordship -had the best head and was most valuable as a -general. Otherwise, this is an assertion hard to -reconcile with acknowledged facts; for, first, Mr. -Budd made the best average, though usually placed -against Lambert’s bowling, and playing almost -exclusively in the great matches. Mr. Budd was -a much more powerful hitter. Lord Frederick -said, “Budd always wanted to win the game off -a single ball:” Beldham observed, “if Mr. Budd -would not hit so eagerly, he would be the finest -player in all England.” When I knew him his hitting -was quite safe play. Still Lord Frederick’s -was the prettier style of batting, and he had the -character of being the most scientific player. But -since Mr. Budd had the largest average in spite -of his hitting, Beldham becomes a witness in his -favour. Mr. Budd measured five feet ten inches, -and weighed twelve stone, very clean made and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> -powerful, with an eye singularly keen, and great -natural quickness, being one of the fastest runners -of his day. Secondly, Mr. Budd was the better -fieldsman. He stood usually at middle wicket. -I never saw safer hands at a catch; and I have -seen him very quick at stumping out. But, Lord -Frederick could not take every part of the field; but -was always short slip, and not one of the very best. -And, thirdly, Mr. Budd was the better bowler. -Mr. Budd hit well from the wrist. At Woolwich -he hit a volley to long field for <i>nine</i>, though Mr. -Parry threw it in. He also hit out of Lord’s old -ground. “Lord had said he would forfeit twenty -guineas if any one thus proved his ground too -small: so we all crowded around Mr. Budd,” -said Beldham, “and told him what he might -claim. ‘Well then,’ he said, ‘I claim it, and give -it among the players.’ But Lord was shabby and -would not pay.” Mr. Budd is now (1854) in his -sixty-ninth year: it is only lately that any country -Eleven could well spare him.</p> - -<p>Lambert was also good at every point. In -batting, he was a bold forward player. He stood -with left foot a yard in advance, swaying his bat -and body as if to attain momentum, and reaching -forward almost to where the ball must pitch.</p> - -<p>Lambert’s chief point was to take the ball at -the pitch and drive it powerfully away, and, said -Mr. Budd,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> “to a slow bowler his return was so -quick and forcible, that his whole manner was -really intimidating to a bowler.” Every one remarked -how completely Lambert seemed master -of the ball. Usually the bowler appears to attack -and the batsman to defend; but Lambert seemed -always on the attack, and the bowler at his mercy, -and “hit,” said Beldham, “what no one else -could meddle with.”</p> - -<p>Lord Frederick was formed on Beldham’s -style. Mr. Budd’s position at the wicket was -much the same: the right foot placed as usual, -but the left rather behind and nearly a yard -apart, so that instead of the upright bat and -figure of Pilch the bat was drawn across, and -the figure hung away from the wicket. This was -a mistake. Before the ball could be played Mr. -Budd was too good a player not to be up, like -Pilch, and play well over his off stump. Still -Mr. Budd explained to me that this position of -the left foot was just where one naturally shifts -it to have room for a cut: so this strange attitude -was supposed to favour their fine off hits. I say -Off hit because the Cut did not properly belong to -either of these players: Robinson and Saunders -were the men to cut,—cutting balls clean away -from the bails, though Robinson had a maimed -hand, burnt when a child: the handle of his bat -was grooved to fit his stunted fingers. Talking -of his bat, the players once discovered by measurement<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> -it was beyond the statute width, and would -not pass through the standard. So, unceremoniously, -a knife was produced, and the bat -reduced to its just, rather than its fair, proportions. -“Well,” said Robinson, “I’ll pay you off for -spoiling my bat:” and sure enough he did, hitting -tremendously, and making one of his largest -innings, which were often near a hundred runs.</p> - -<p>In the first twenty years of this century, Hampshire, -like Kent, had lost its renown, but only because -Hambledon was now no more; nor did Surrey -and Hampshire any longer count as one. To -confirm our assertion that Farnham produced the -players,—for in 1808, Surrey had played and -beaten England three times in one season, and from -1820 to 1825 Godalming is mentioned as the most -powerful antagonist; but whether called Godalming -or Surrey, we must not forget that the -locality is the same—we observe, that in 1821, -M.C.C. plays “The Three Parishes,” namely, -Godalming, Farnham, and Hartley Row; which -parishes, after rearing the finest contemporaries of -Beldham, could then boast a later race of players in -Flavel, Searle, Howard, Thumwood, Mathews.</p> - -<p>“About this time (July 23. 1821),” said -Beldham,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> “we played the Coronation Match; -‘M.C.C. against the Players of England.’ We -scored 278 and only six wickets down, when the -game was given up. I was hurt and could not -run my notches; still James Bland, and the other -Legs, begged of me to take pains, for it was no -sporting match, ‘any odds and no takers;’ and -they wanted to shame the gentlemen against -wasting their (the Legs’) time in the same way -another time.”</p> - -<p>But the day for Hampshire, as for Kent, was -doomed to shine again. Fennex, Small, the -Walkers, J. Wells, and Hammond, in time drop -off from Surrey,—and about the same time (1815), -Caldecourt, Holloway, Beagley, Thumwood, -Shearman, Howard, Mr. Ward, and Mr. Knight, -restore the balance of power for Hants, as afterwards, -Broadbridge and Lillywhite for Sussex.</p> - -<p>“In 1817, we went,” said Mr. Budd,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> “with -Osbaldeston to play twenty-two of Nottingham. -In that match Clarke played. In common with -others I lost my money, and was greatly disappointed -at the termination. One paid player -was accused of selling, and never employed after. -The concourse of people was very great: these -were the days of the Luddites (rioters), and the -magistrates warned us, that unless we would stop -our game at seven o’clock, they could not answer -for keeping the peace. At seven o’clock we -stopped; and, simultaneously, the thousands who -lined the ground began to close in upon us. Lord -Frederick lost nerve and was very much alarmed; -but I said they didn’t want to hurt us. No; -they simply came to have a look at the eleven men -who ventured to play two for one.”—His Lordship -broke his finger, and, batting with one hand, -scored only eleven runs. Nine men, the largest -number perhaps on record, Bentley marks as -“caught by Budd.”</p> - -<p>Just before the establishment of Mr. Will’s -roundhand bowling, and as if to prepare the way, -Ashby came forth with an unusual bias, but no -great pace. Sparkes bowled in the same style; -as also, Matthews and Mr. Jenner somewhat -later. Still the batsmen were full as powerful as -ever, reckoning Saunders, Searle, Beagley, Messrs. -Ward, Kingscote, Knight. Suffolk became very -strong with Pilch, the Messrs. Blake, and others, -of the famous Bury Club; while Slater, Lillywhite, -King, and the Broadbridges, raised the -name of Midhurst and of Sussex.</p> - -<p>Against such batsmen every variety of underhand -delivery failed to maintain the balance of -the game, till J. Broadbridge and Lillywhite, -after many protests and discussions, succeeded in -establishing what long was called “the Sussex -bowling.”</p> - -<p>“About 1820,” said Mr. Budd,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> “at our anniversary -dinner (three-guinea tickets) at the -Clarendon, Mr. Ward asked me if I had not said I -would play any man in England at single wicket, -without fieldsmen. An affirmative produced a -match p.p. for fifty guineas. On the day -appointed Mr. Brand proved my opponent. He -was a fast bowler. I went in first, and scoring -seventy runs with some severe blows on the legs,—nankeen -knees and silk stockings, and no pads -in those days,—I consulted a friend and knocked -down my own wicket, lest the match should last -to the morrow, and I be unable to play. Mr. -Brand was out without a run! I went in again, -and making the 70 up to 100, I once more -knocked down my own wicket, and once more my -opponent failed to score!!”</p> - -<p>The flag was flying—the signal of a great -match—and a large concourse were assembled; -and, considering Mr. Ward, a good judge, made -the match, this is probably the most hollow victory -on record.</p> - -<p>But Osbaldeston’s victory was far more satisfactory. -Lord Frederick with Beldham made a -p.p. match with Osbaldeston and Lambert. -“On the day named,” said Budd,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> “I went to Lord -Frederick, representing my friend was too ill to -stand, and asked him to put off the match. “No; -play or pay,” said his Lordship, quite inexorable. -“Never mind,” said Osbaldeston, “I won’t -forfeit: Lambert may beat them both; and, if he -does, the fifty guineas shall be his.”—I asked -Lambert how he felt. “Why,” said he, “they -are anything but safe.”—His Lordship wouldn’t -hear of it. “Nonsense,” he said, “you can’t -mean it.” “Yes; play or pay, my Lord, we are -in earnest, and shall claim the stakes!” and in -fact Lambert did beat them both.” For, to play -such a man as Lambert, when on his mettle, was -rather discouraging; and “he did make desperate -exertion,” said Beldham: “once he rushed up after -his ball, and Lord Frederick was caught so near -the bat that he lost his temper, and said it was -not fair play. Of course, all hearts were with -Lambert.”</p> - -<p>“Osbaldeston’s mother sat by in her carriage, -and enjoyed the match; and then,” said Beldham, -“Lambert was called to the carriage and bore -away a paper parcel: some said it was a gold -watch,—some, bank notes. Trust Lambert to -keep his own secrets. We were all curious, but -no one ever knew:”—nor ever will know. In -March, 1851, I addressed a letter to him at Reigate. -Soon, a brief paragraph announced the -death of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> “the once celebrated cricket player William -Lambert.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 id="CHAP_VI">CHAP. VI.<br /> -<span class="smaller">A DARK CHAPTER IN THE HISTORY OF CRICKET.</span></h2> - -<p>The lovers of cricket may congratulate themselves -that matches, at the present day, are made -at cricket, as at chess, rather for love and the -honour of victory than for money.</p> - -<p>It is now many years since Lord’s was frequented -by men with book and pencil, betting as -openly and professionally as in the ring at Epsom, -and ready to deal in the odds with any and every -person of speculative propensities. Far less satisfactory -was the state of things with which Lord -F. Beauclerk and Mr. Ward had to contend, to -say nothing of the earlier days of the Earl of -Winchelsea and Sir Horace Mann. As to the -latter period, “Old Nyren” bewails its evil doings. -He speaks of one who had “the trouble of proving -himself a rogue,” and also of “the legs of Marylebone,” -who tried, for once in vain, to corrupt -some primitive specimens of Hambledon innocence. -He says, also, that the grand matches of his -day were always made for 500<i>l.</i> a side. Add to -this the fact that bets were in proportion; and that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> -Jim and Joe Bland, of turf notoriety, with Dick -Whitlom of Covent Garden, Simpson, a gaming-house -keeper, and Toll of Esher, as regularly -attended at a match as Crockford and Gully at -Epsom and Ascot; and the idea that all the -Surrey and Hampshire rustics should either want -or resist strong temptations to sell, is not to be -entertained for a moment. The constant habit of -betting will take the honesty out of any man. A -half-crown sweepstakes, or betting such odds as -lady’s long kids to gentleman’s short ditto, is all -very fair sport; but, if a man, after years of high -betting, can still preserve the fine edge and tone -of honest feeling he is indeed a wonder. To bet -on a certainty all admit is swindling. If so, to -bet where you feel it is a certainty, must be very -bad moral practice.</p> - -<p>“If gentlemen wanted to bet,” said Beldham, -“just under the pavilion sat men ready, with -money down, to give and take the current odds: -these were by far the best men to bet with; because, -if they lost, it was all in the way of business: they -paid their money and did not grumble.” Still, -they had all sorts of tricks to make their betting -safe. “One artifice,” said Mr. Ward, “was to -keep a player out of the way by a false report -that his wife was dead.” Then these men would -come down to the Green Man and Still, and drink -with us, and always said, that those who backed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> -us, or “the nobs,” as they called them, sold the -matches; and so, sir, as you are going the round -beating up the quarters of the old players, you will -find some to persuade you this is true. But don’t -believe it. That any gentleman in my day ever -put himself into the power of these blacklegs, by -selling matches, I can’t credit. Still, one day, I -thought I would try how far these tales were true. -So, going down into Kent, with “one of high -degree,” he said to me, “Will, if this match is -won, I lose a hundred pounds!” “Well,” said I, -“my Lord, you and I <i>could</i> order that.” He -smiled as if nothing were meant, and talked of -something else; and, as luck would have it, he -and I were in together, and brought up the score -between us, though every run seemed to me like -“a guinea out of his Lordship’s pocket.”</p> - -<p>In those days, foot races were very common. -Lord Frederick and Mr. Budd were first-rate -runners, and bets were freely laid. So, one day, -old Fennex laid a trap for the gentlemen: he -brought up, to act the part of some silly conceited -youngster with his pockets full of money, a first-rate -runner out of Hertfordshire. This soft young -gentleman ran a match or two with some known -third-rate men, and seemed to win by a neck, and -no pace to spare. Then he calls out, “I’ll run -any man on the ground for 25<i>l.</i>, money down.” -A match was quickly made, and money laid on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -pretty thick on Fennex’s account. Some said, -“Too bad to win of such a green young fellow!” -others said, “He’s old enough—serve him right.” -So the laugh was finely against those who were -taken in; “the green one” ran away like a hare!</p> - -<p>“You see, sir,” said one fine old man, with -brilliant eye and quickness of movement, that -showed his right hand had not yet forgot its -cunning, “matches were bought, and matches -were sold, and gentlemen who meant honestly -lost large sums of money, till the rogues beat -themselves at last. They overdid it; they spoilt -their own trade; and, as I said to one of them, -‘a knave and a fool makes a bad partnership; so, -you and yourself will never prosper.’ Well, -surely there was robbery enough: and, not a few -of the great players earned money to their own -disgrace; but, if you’ll believe me, there was not -half the selling there was said to be. Yes, I can -guess, sir, much as you have been talking to all -the old players over this good stuff (pointing to -the brandy and water I had provided), no doubt -you have heard that B—— sold as bad as the -rest. I’ll tell the truth: one match up the country -I did sell,—a match made by Mr. Osbaldeston at -Nottingham. I had been sold out of a match -just before, and lost 10<i>l.</i>, and happening to hear it -I joined two others of our eleven to sell, and get -back my money. I won 10<i>l.</i> exactly, and of this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> -roguery no one ever suspected me; but many was -the time I have been blamed for selling when as -innocent as a babe. In those days, when so much -money was on the matches, every man who lost his -money would blame some one. Then, if A missed -a catch, or B made no runs,—and where’s the -player whose hand is always in?—that man was -called a rogue directly. So, when a man was -doomed to lose his character and to bear all the -smart, there was the more temptation to do like -others, and after ‘the kicks’ to come in for ‘the -halfpence.’ But I am an old man now, and heartily -sorry I have been ever since: because, but for that -Nottingham match, I could have said with a clear -conscience to a gentleman like you, that all that -was said was false, and I never sold a match in -my life; but now I can’t. But, if I had fifty -sons, I would never put one of them, for all the -games in the world, in the way of the roguery -that I have witnessed. The temptation really was -very great,—too great by far for any poor man -to be exposed to,—no richer than ten shillings a -week, let alone harvest time.—I never told you, -sir, the way I first was brought to London. I was -a lad of eighteen at this Hampshire village, and -Lord Winchelsea had seen us play among ourselves, -and watched the match with the Hambledon -Club on Broadhalfpenny, when I scored -forty-three against David Harris, and ever so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> -many of the runs against David’s bowling, and no -one ever could manage David before. So, next -year, in the month of March, I was down in the -meadows, when a gentleman came across the field -with Farmer Hilton: and, thought I, all in a -minute, now this is something about cricket. -Well, at last it was settled I was to play Hampshire -against England, at London, in White-Conduit-Fields -ground, in the month of June. -For three months I did nothing but think about -that match. Tom Walker was to travel up from -this country, and I agreed to go with him, and -found myself at last with a merry company of -cricketers—all the men, whose names I had ever -heard as foremost in the game—met together, -drinking, card-playing, betting, and singing at the -Green Man (that was the great cricketer’s house), -in Oxford Street,—no man without his wine, I -assure you, and such suppers as three guineas a -game to lose, and five to win (that was then the -sum for players) could never pay for long. To go -to London by the waggon, earn five guineas three -or four times told, and come back with half the -money in your pocket to the plough again, was all -very well talking. You know what young folk -are, sir, when they get together: mischief brews -stronger in large quantities: so, many spent all -their earnings, and were soon glad to make more -money some other way. Hundreds of pounds<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> -were bet upon all the great matches, and other -wagers laid on the scores of the finest players, -and that too by men who had a book for every -race and every match in the sporting world; -men who lived by gambling; and, as to honesty, -gambling and honesty don’t often go together. -What was easier, then, than for such sharp gentlemen -to mix with the players, take advantage of -their difficulties, and say, ‘your backers, my Lord -this, and the Duke of that, sell matches and overrule -all your good play, so why shouldn’t you -have a share of the plunder?’—That was their constant -argument. ‘Serve them as they serve you.’—You -have heard of Jim Bland, the turfsman, and -his brother Joe—two nice boys. When Jemmy -Dawson was hanged for poisoning the horse, the -Blands never felt safe till the rope was round -Dawson’s neck: to keep him quiet, they persuaded -him to the last hour that no one dared hang -him; and a certain nobleman had a reprieve in -his pocket. Well, one day in April, Joe Bland -traced me out in this parish, and tried his game -on with me. ‘You may make a fortune,’ he said, -‘if you will listen to me: so much for the match -with Surrey, and so much more for the Kent -match—’ ‘Stop,’ said I: ‘Mr. Bland, you talk -too fast; I am rather too old for this trick; you -never buy the same man but once: if their lordships -ever sold at all, you would peach upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> -them if ever after they dared to win. You’ll try -me once, and then you’ll have me in a line like -him of the mill last year.’ No, sir, a man was a -slave when once he sold to these folk: ‘fool and -knave aye go together.’ Still, they found fools -enough for their purpose; but rogues can never -trust each other. One day, a sad quarrel arose -between two of them, which opened the gentlemen’s -eyes too wide to close again to those practices. -Two very big rogues at Lord’s fell a quarrelling, -and blows were given; a crowd drew round, and -the gentlemen ordered them both into the pavilion. -When the one began, ‘You had 20<i>l.</i> to lose the -Kent match, bowling leg long hops and missing -catches.’ ‘And you were paid to lose at Swaffham.’—‘Why -did that game with Surrey turn -about—three runs to get, and you didn’t make -them?’ Angry words come out fast; and, when -they are circumstantial and square with previous -suspicions, they are proofs as strong as holy writ. -In one single-wicket match,” he continued,—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>“and -those were always great matches for the sporting -men, because usually you had first-rate men on -each side, and their merits known,—dishonesty -was as plain as this: just as a player was coming -in, (John B. will confess this if you talk of the -match,) he said to me, ‘You’ll let me score five or -six, for appearances, won’t you, for I am not going -to make many if I can?’ ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘you -rogue, you shall if I can <i>not</i> help it.’—But, when -a game was all but won, and the odds heavy, and -all one way, it was cruel to see how the fortune of -the day then would change about. In that Kent -match,—you can turn to it in your book (Bentley’s -scores), played 28th July, 1807, on Penenden -Heath,—I and Lord Frederick had scored sixty-one, -and thirty remained to win, and six of the best -men in England went out for eleven runs. Well, -sir, I lost some money by that match, and as -seven of us were walking homewards to meet a -coach, a gentleman who had backed the match -drove by and said, ‘Jump up, my boys, we have -all lost together. I need not mind if I hire a -pair of horses extra next town, for I have lost -money enough to pay for twenty pair or more.’ -Well, thought I, as I rode along, you have rogues -enough in your carriage now, sir, if the truth were -told, I’ll answer for it; and, one of them let out -the secret, some ten years after. But, sir, I can’t -help laughing when I tell you: once, there was a -single-wicket match played at Lord’s, and a man -on each side was paid to lose. One was bowler, -and the other batsman, when the game came to a -near point. I knew their politics, the rascals, -and saw in a minute how things stood; and how -I did laugh to be sure. For seven balls together, -one would not bowl straight, and the other would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> -not hit; but at last a straight ball must come, -and down went the wicket.”</p> - -<p>From other information received, I could tell -this veteran that, even in his much-repented -Nottingham match, his was not the only side that -had men resolved to lose. The match was sold -for Nottingham too, and that with less success, -for Nottingham won: an event the less difficult -to accomplish, as Lord Frederick Beauclerk broke -a finger in an attempt to stop an angry and furious -throw from Shearman, whom he had scolded for -slack play. His Lordship batted with one hand. -Afterwards lock-jaw threatened; and Lord Frederick -was, well nigh, a victim to Cricket!</p> - -<p>It is true, Clarke, who played in the match, -thought all was fair: still, he admits, he heard -one Nottingham man accused, on the field, by his -own side of foul play. This confirms the evidence -of the Rev. C. W., no slight authority in Nottingham -matches, who said he was cautioned before -the match that all would not be fair.</p> - -<p>“This practice of selling matches,” said Beldham,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> -“produced strange things sometimes. Once, -I remember, England was playing Surrey, and, in -my judgment, Surrey had the best side; still I -found the Legs were betting seven to four against -Surrey! This time, they were done; for they -betted on the belief that some Surrey men had -sold the match: but, Surrey then played to win.”</p> - -<p>“Crockford used to be seen about Lord’s, and -Mr. Gully also occasionally; but, only for the -society of sporting men: they did not understand -the game, and I never saw them bet. Mr. Gully -was often talking to me about the game for one -season; but,” said the old man, as he smoothed -down his smockfrock, with all the confidence in -the world,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> “I could never put any sense into -him! He knew plenty about fighting, and afterwards -of horse-racing; but a man cannot learn -the odds of cricket unless he is something of a -player.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 id="CHAP_VII">CHAP. VII.<br /> -<span class="smaller">Βαττολογια, -OR -THE SCIENCE AND ART OF BATTING.</span></h2> - -<p>A writer in “Blackwood” once attributed the -success of his magazine to the careful exclusion of -every bit of science, or reasoning, above half an -inch long. The Cambridge Professors do not -exclusively represent the mind of Parker’s Piece; -so, away with the stiffness of analysis and the -mysteries of science: the laws of dynamics might -puzzle, and the very name of <i>physics</i> alarm, many -an able-bodied cricketer; so, invoking the genius -of our mother tongue, let us exhibit science in its -more palatable form.</p> - -<p>All the balls that can be bowled may, for all -practical purposes, be reduced to a few simple -classes, and plain rules given for all and each. -There are what are called good balls, and bad -balls. The former, good lengths, and straight, -while puzzling to the eye; the latter, bad lengths -and wide, while easy to see and to hit.</p> - -<p>But, is not a good hand and eye quite enough,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> -with a little practice, without all this theory? -Do you ignore the Pilches and the Parrs, who -have proved famous hitters from their own sense -alone?—The question is, not how many have succeeded, -but how many more have failed. Cricket -by nature is like learning from a village dame; it -leaves a great deal to be untaught before the -pupil makes a good scholar. If you have Caldecourt’s, -Wisden’s, or Lillywhite’s instructions, <i>vivâ -voce</i>, why not on paper also? What, though many -excellent musicians do not know a note, every good -musician will bear witness that the consequence -of Nature’s teaching is, that men form a vicious -habit almost impossible to correct, a lasting bar to -brilliant execution. And why?—because the -piano or the violin leaves no dexterity or rapidity -to spare. The muscles act freely in one way only, -in every other way with loss of power. So with -batting. A good ball requires all the power and -energy of the man! And, as with riding, driving, -rowing, or every other exercise, it depends on a -certain form, attitude, or position, whether this -power be forthcoming or not.</p> - -<p>The scope for useful instructions for <i>forming -good habits of hitting before their place is preoccupied -with bad</i>—for, “there’s the rub”—is -very great indeed. If Pilch, and Clarke, and -Lillywhite, averaging fifty years each, are still -indifferent to pace in bowling,—and if Mr. Ward,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> -as late as 1844, scored forty against Mr. Kirwan’s -swiftest bowling, while some of the most -active young men, of long experience in cricket, -are wholly unequal to the task; then, it is undeniable -that a batsman may form a certain invaluable -habit, which youth and strength cannot -always give, nor age and inactivity entirely take -away.</p> - -<p>The following are simple rules for forming -correct habits of play; for adding the judgment -of the veteran to the activity of youth, or putting -an old head on young shoulders, and teaching the -said young shoulders not to get into each other’s -way.</p> - -<p>All balls that can be bowled are reducible to -“length balls” and “not lengths.”</p> - -<p><i>Not lengths</i>, are the toss, the tice, the half -volley, the long hop, and ground balls.</p> - -<p>These are <i>not length balls</i>, not pitched at that -critical length which puzzles the judgment as to -whether to play forward or back, as will presently -be explained. These are all “bad balls;” and -among good players considered certain hits; though, -from the delusive confidence they inspire, sometimes -they are bowled with success against even -the best of players.</p> - -<p>These <i>not lengths</i>, therefore, being the easiest to -play, as requiring only hand and eye, but little -judgment, are the best for a beginner to practise;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> -so, we will set the tyro in a proper position to play -them with certainty and effect.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Position.</span>—Look at any professional player,—observe -how he stands and holds his bat. -Much, very much, depends on position,—so look -at the figure of Pilch. This is substantially the -attitude of every good batsman. Some think he -should bend the right knee a little; but an anatomist -reminds me that it is when the limb is -straight that the muscles are relaxed, and most -ready for sudden action. Various as attitudes -appear to the casual observer, all coincide in the -main points marked in the figure of Pilch in our -frontispiece. For, all good players,—</p> - -<p>1st. Stand with the right foot just within the -line. Further in, would limit the reach and endanger -the wicket: further out, would endanger -stumping.</p> - -<p>2dly. All divide their weight between their -two feet, though making the right leg more the -pillar and support, the left being rather lightly -placed, and more ready to move on, off, or forward, -and this we will call the Balance-foot.</p> - -<p>3rdly. All stand as close as they can without -being before the wicket; otherwise, the bat cannot -be upright, nor can the eye command a line from -the bowler’s hand.</p> - -<p>4thly. All stand at guard as upright as is easy -to them. We say <i>easy</i>, not to forbid a slight stoop,—the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> -attitude of extreme caution. Height is a -great advantage, “and a big man,” says Dakin, -“is foolish to make himself into a little man.” -If the eye is low, you cannot have the commanding -sight, nor, as players say, “see as much of the -game,” as if you hold up your head, and look well -at the bowler.</p> - -<p>5thly. All stand easy, and hold the bat lightly, -yet firmly, in their hands. However rigid your -muscles, you must relax them, as already observed, -before you can start into action. Rossi, -the sculptor, made a beautiful marble statue of a -batsman at guard, for the late Mr. William Ward, -who said, “You are no cricketer, Mr. Sculptor; -the wrists are too rigid, and hands too much -clenched.”</p> - -<p>After standing at guard in the attitude of Pilch, -<i>fig. 1.</i> shows the bat taken up ready for action. -But, at what moment are you to raise your bat? -Caldecourt teaches, and some very good players -observe, the habit of not raising the bat till they -have seen the pitch of the ball. This is said -to tend both to safety and system in play; but a -first-rate player, who has already attained to a -right system, should aspire to more power and -freedom, and rise into the attitude of <i>fig. 1.</i> as -soon as the ball is out of the bowler’s hand. -Good players often begin an innings with their -bat down, and raise it as they gain confidence.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 363px;"> -<p class="caption"><i>Fig. 1.</i></p> -<img src="images/fig1.jpg" width="363" height="400" alt="Figure 1" /> -<p class="caption">Preparing for Action. The toes are too much before Wicket, and foot hardly -within the crease. Foreshortening suits our illustration -better than artistic effect.</p> -</div> - -<p><i>Meet the ball with as full a bat as the case -admits.</i> Consider the full force of this rule.</p> - -<p>1st. <i>Meet the ball.</i> The bat must strike the -ball, not the ball the bat. Even if you block, you -can block hard, and the wrists may do a little; so,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> -with a good player this rule admits of no exception. -Young players must not think I recommend -a flourish, but an exact movement of the bat -at the latest possible instant. In playing back to -a bail ball, a good player meets the ball, and plays -it with a resolute movement of arm and wrist. -Pilch is not caught in the attitude of what some -call Hanging guard, letting the ball hit his bat -dead, once in a season.</p> - -<p>2dly. <i>With a full bat.</i> A good player has never -less wood than 21 inches by 4¼ inches before his -wicket as he plays the ball, a bad player has -rarely more than a bat’s width alone. Remember -the old rule, to keep the left shoulder over the -ball, and left elbow well up. Good players must -avoid doing this in excess; for, some play from leg -to off, across the line of the ball, in their over care -to keep the shoulder over it. Fix a bat by pegs in -the ground, and try to bowl the wicket down, and -you will perceive what an unpromising antagonist -this simple rule creates. I like to see a bat, as -the ball is coming, hang perpendicular as a pendulum -from the player’s wrists. The best compliment -ever paid me was this:—“Whether you play -forward or back, hitting or stopping, the wicket -is always covered to the full measure of your -bat.” So said a friend well known in North -Devon, whose effective bowling, combined with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> -his name, has so often provoked the pun of “the -falls of the <i>Clyde</i>.”</p> - -<p>3dly. <i>As full a bat as the case admits</i>: you -cannot present a full bat to any but a straight -ball. A bat brought forward from the centre -stump to a ball Off or to leg, must be minutely -oblique and form an angle sufficient to make Off -or On hits.</p> - -<p>Herein then consists the great excellence of -batting, <i>in presenting the largest possible face of -the bat to the ball</i>. While the bat is descending -on the ball, the ball may rise or turn, to say -nothing of the liability of the hand to miss, and -then the good player has always half the width -of his bat, besides its height, to cover the deviation; -whereas, the cross player is far more likely to -miss, from the least inaccuracy of hand and eye, -or twist of the ball.</p> - -<p>And, would you bring a full bat even to a toss? -Would you not cut it to the Off or hit across to -the On?</p> - -<p>This question tries my rule very hard certainly; -but though nothing less than a hit from a toss can -satisfy a good player, still I have seen the most -brilliant hitters, when a little out of practice, lose -their wicket, or hit a catch from the edge of the -bat, by this common custom of hitting across -even to a toss or long hop.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p> - -<p>To hit tosses is good practice, requiring good -time and quick wrist play. If you see a man -play stiff, and “up in a heap,” a swift toss is -worth trying. Bowlers should practise both toss -and tice.</p> - -<p>We remember Wenman playing well against -fine bowling; when an underhand bowler was put -on, who bowled him with a toss, fourth ball.</p> - -<p>To play tosses, and ground balls, and hops, and -every variety of loose bowling, by the rigid rules -of straight and upright play, is a principle, the neglect -of which has often given the old hands a laugh -at the young ones. Often have I been amused -to see the wonder and disappointment occasioned, -when some noted member of a University Eleven, -or the Marylebone Club, from whom all expected -of course the most tremendous hitting “off mere -underhand bowling,” has been easily disposed of -by a toss or a ground ball, yclept a “sneak.”</p> - -<p>A fast ball to the middle stump, however badly -bowled, no player can afford to treat too easily. -A ball that grounds more than once may turn -more than once; and, the bat though properly -4¼ inches wide, is considerably reduced when used -across wicket; so <i>never hit across wicket</i>. To turn -to loose bowling, and hit from leg stump square -to the on side with full swing of the body, is very -gratifying and very effective; and, perhaps you -may hit over the tent, or, as I once saw, into a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -neighbour’s carriage; but, while the natives are -marvel-stricken, Caldecourt will shake his head, -and inwardly grieve at folly so triumphant.</p> - -<p>This reminds me of a memorable match in -1834, of Oxford against Cowley, the village -which fostered those useful members of university -society; who, during the summer term, bowl at sixpences -on stumps sometimes eight hours a day, -and have strength enough left at the end to win -one sixpence more.</p> - -<p>The Oxonians, knowing the ground or knowing -their bowlers, scored above 200 runs in their first -innings. Then Cowley grew wiser; and even -now a Cowley man will tell the tale, how they -put on one Tailor Humphreys to bowl twisting -underhand sneaks, at which the Oxonians laughed, -and called it “no cricket;” but it actually levelled -their wickets for fewer runs than were made -against Bayley and Cobbett the following week. -The Oxonians, too eager to score, and thinking -it so easy, hit across and did not play their usual -game.</p> - -<p>Never laugh at bowling that takes wickets. -Bowling that is bad, often for that very reason -meets with batting that is worse. Nothing shows -a thorough player more than playing with caution -even badly pitched underhand bowling.</p> - -<p>One of the best judges of the game I ever knew -was once offered by a fine hitter a bet that he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> -could not with his underhand bowling make him -“give a chance” in half an hour.</p> - -<p>“Then you know nothing of the game,” was -the reply; “I would bowl you nothing but Off -tosses, which you must cut; you would not cut -those correctly for half an hour, for you could -not use a straight bat once. Your bet ought to -be,—no chance before so many runs.”</p> - -<p>Peter Heward, an excellent wicket-keeper of -Leicester,—of the same day as Henry Davis, one -of the finest and most graceful hitters ever seen, -as Dakin, or any midland player will attest,—once -observed to me, “Players are apt to forget that a -bad bowler may bowl one or two balls as well as -the best; so, to make a good average, you must -always play the same guarded and steady game, -and take care especially when late in the season.” -“Why late in the season?” “Because the -ground is damp and heavy—it takes the spring -out of good bowling, and gives fast underhand -bowling as many twists as it has hops, besides -making it hang on the ground. This game is -hardly worth playing it is true; but a man is but -half a player who is only prepared for true -ground.” “We do not play cricket,” he continued,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> -“on billiard tables; wind and weather, -and the state of the turf make all the difference. -So, if you play to win, play the game that will -carry you through; and that is a straight and upright -game; use your eyes well; play not at the -pitch, nor by the length, but always (what few -men do) at the ball itself, and never hit or ‘pull -the ball’ across wicket.”</p> - -<p>Next as to the <i>half-volley</i>. This is the most -delightful of all balls to hit, because it takes the -right part of the bat, with all the quickness of its -rise or rebound. Any player will show you what -a half-volley is, and I presume that every reader -has some living lexicon to explain common terms. -A half-volley, then, is very generally hit in the -air, soaring far above every fieldsman’s head; and -to know the power of the bat, every hitter should -learn so to hit at pleasure. Though, as a rule, -<i>high hits make a low average</i>. But I am now to -speak only of hitting half-volleys along the -ground.</p> - -<p>Every time you play forcibly at the pitch of a -ball you have more or less of the half-volley; so -this is a material point in batting. The whole -secret consists partly in timing your hit well, and -partly in taking the ball at the right part of the -rise, so as to play the ball down without wasting -its force against the ground.</p> - -<p>Every player thinks he can hit a half-volley -along the ground; but if once you see it done by -a really brilliant hitter, you will soon understand -that such hitting admits of many degrees of perfection. -In forward play, or driving, fine hitters<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> -seem as if they felt the ball on the bat, and sprung -it away with an elastic impulse; and, in the more -forcible hits, a ball from one of the All England -batsmen appears not so much like a hit as a shot -from the bat: for, when a ball is hit in the swiftest -part of the bat’s whirl, and with that part of the -bat that gives the greatest force with the least jar, -the ball appears to offer no resistance; its momentum -is annihilated by the whirl of the bat, -and the two-and-twenty fieldsmen find to their -surprise how little ground a fieldsman can cover -against true and accurate hitting.</p> - -<p>Clean hitting requires a loose arm, the bat held -firmly, but not clutched in the hand till the -moment of hitting; clumsy gloves are a sad hindrance, -the hit is not half so crisp and smart. The -bat must be brought forward not only by the free -swing of the arm working well from the shoulder, -but also by the wrist. (Refer to <i>fig. 1.</i> <a href="#Page_115">p. 115</a>.) -Here is the bat ready thrown back, and wrists -proportionally bent; from that position a hit is -always assisted by wrist as well as arm. The -effect of the wrist alone, slight as its power appears, -is very material in hitting; this probably arises -from the greater precision and better time in -which a wrist hit is commonly made.</p> - -<p>As to hard hitting, if two men have equal skill, -the stronger man will send the ball farthest. -Many slight men drive a ball nearly as far as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> -larger men, because they exert their force in a -more skilful manner. We have seen a man six -feet three inches in height, and of power in -proportion, hit a ball tossed to him—not once or -twice, but repeatedly—a hundred yards or more -in the air. This, perhaps, is more than any light -man could do. But, the best man at putting the -stone and throwing a weight we ever saw, was a -man of little more than ten stone. In this exercise, -as in wrestling, the application of a man’s -whole weight at the proper moment is the chief -point: so also in hard hitting.</p> - -<p>The whirl of the bat may be accelerated by -wrist, fore-arm, and shoulder: let each joint bear -its proper part.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nuts for strong teeth.</span>—All effective hits -must be made with both hands and arms; and, in -order that both arms may apply their force, the -point at which the ball is struck should be opposite -the middle of the body.</p> - -<p>Take a bat in your hand, poise the body as for -a half-volley hit forward, the line from shoulder -to shoulder being parallel with the line of the -ball. Now whirl the bat in the line of the ball, -and you will find that it reaches that part of its -circle where it is perpendicular to the ground,—midway -between the shoulders; at that moment -the bat attains its greatest velocity; so, then alone -can the strongest hit be made. Moreover, a hit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> -made at this moment will drive the ball parallel -to and skimming the ground. And if, in such a -hit, the lower six inches of the bat’s face strike -the ball, the hit is properly called a “clean hit,” -being free from all imperfections. The same may -be said of a horizontal hit, or cut. The bat should -meet the ball when opposite the body. I do not -say that every hit should be made in this manner; -I only say that a perfect hit can be made in no -other, and that it should be the aim of the batsman -to attain this position of the body as often -as he can. Nor is this mere speculation on the -scientific principle of batting; it arises from actual -observation of the movements of the best batsmen. -All good hitters make their hits just at the moment -when the ball is opposite the middle of -their body. Watch any fine Off-hitter. If he -hits to Mid-wicket, his breast is turned to Mid-wicket; -if he hits, I mean designedly, to Point, -his breast is turned to Point. I do not say that -his hits would always go to those parts of the -field; because the speed and spin of the ball will -always, to a greater or less degree, prevent its -going in the precise direction of the hit; but I -only say that the ball is always hit by the best -batsmen when just opposite to them. Cutting -forms no exception: the best cutters turn the -body round on the basis of the feet till the breast -fronts the ball,—having let the ball go almost as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> -far as the bails,—and then the full power of the -hitter is brought to bear with the least possible -diminution of the original speed of the ball. This -is the meaning of the observation,—that fine -cutters appear to follow the ball, and at the latest -moment cut the ball off the bails; for, if you do -not follow the ball, by turning your breast to it -at the moment you hit, you can have no power -for a fine cut. It makes good “Chamber practice” -to suspend a ball oscillating by a string: -you will thus see wherein lies that peculiar power -of cutting, which characterises Mr. Bradshaw, -Mr. Felix, and Mr. C. Taylor; as of old, Searle, -Saunders, and Robinson. Robinson cut so late -that the ball often appeared past the wicket.</p> - -<p>And these hints will suffice to awaken attention -to the powers of the bat. Clean hitting is a -thing to be carefully studied; the player who has -never discovered his deficiency in it, had better -examine and see whether there is not a secret he -has yet to learn.</p> - -<p><i>The Tice.</i> Safest to block: apt to be missed, -because a dropping ball; hard to get away, because -on the ground. Drop the bat smartly on -the ground, and it will make a run, but do not -try too much of a hit. The Tice is almost a full -pitch; the way to hit it, says Caldecourt, is to -go in and make it a full pitch: I cannot advise -this for beginners. Going in even to a Tice puts<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> -you out of form for the next ball, and creates a -dangerous habit.</p> - -<p><i>Ground balls</i>, and all balls that touch the -ground more than once between wickets, I have -already hinted, are reckoned very easy, but they -are always liable to prove very dangerous. Sometimes -you have three hops, and the last like a -good length ball: at each hop the ball may twist -On or Off with the inequalities of the ground; -also, if bowled with the least bias, there is much -scope for that bias to produce effect. All these -peculiarities account for a fact, strange but true, -that the best batsmen are often out with the worst -bowling. Bad bowling requires a game of its -own, and a game of the greatest care, where too -commonly we find the least; because “only underhand -bowling,”—and “not by any means good -lengths;” it requires, especially, playing at the -ball itself, even to the last inch, and not by calculation -of the pitch or rise.</p> - -<p>Let me further remark that hitting, to be -either free, quick, or clean, must be done by the -arms and wrists, and not by the body; though the -weight of the body appears to be thrown in by -putting down the left leg; though, in reality, the -leg comes down after the hit to restore the balance.</p> - -<p>Can a man throw his body into a blow (at -cricket)? About as much as he can hold up a -horse with a bridle while sitting on the same<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> -horse’s back. Both are common expressions; -both are at variance with the laws of nature. A -man can only hit by whirling his bat in a circle. -If he stands with both feet near together, he hits -feebly because in a smaller circle; if he throws -his left foot forward, he hits harder because in a -wider circle. A pugilist cannot throw in his body -with a round hit; and a cricketer cannot make -anything else but round hits. Take it as a rule -in hitting, that what is not elegant is not right; -for the human frame is rarely inelegant in its -movements when all the muscles act in their -natural direction. Many men play with their -shoulders up to their ears, and their sinews all in -knots, and because they are conscious of desperate -exertion, they forget that their force is going anywhere -rather than into the ball. It is often remarked -that hard hitting does not depend on -strength. No. It depends not on the strength a man -has, but on the strength he exerts, at the right time -and in the right direction; and strength is exerted -in hitting, as in throwing a ball, in exact proportion -to the rapidity of the whirl or circle which -the bat or hand describes. The point of the bat -moves faster in the circle than any other part; -and, therefore, did not the jar, resulting from the -want of resistance, place the point of hitting, as -experience shows, a little higher up, the nearer -the end the harder would be the hit. The wrist,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> -however slight its force, acting with a multiplying -power, adds greatly to the speed of this whirl.</p> - -<p>Hard hitting, then, depends, first, on the freedom -with which the arm revolves from the -shoulder, unimpeded by constrained efforts and -contortions of the body; next, on the play of the -arm at the elbow; thirdly, on the wrists. Observe -any cramped clumsy hitter, and you will -recognise these truths at once. His elbow seems -glued to his side, his shoulder stiff at the joint, -and the little speed of his bat depends on a twist -and a wriggle of his whole body.</p> - -<p>Keep your body as composed and easy as the -requisite adjustment of the left leg will admit; -let your arms do the hitting; and remember the -wrists. The whiz that meets the ear will be a -criterion of increasing power. Practise hard hitting,—that -is, the full and timely application of -your strength, not only for the value of the extra -score, but because hard hitting and correct and -clean hitting are one and the same thing. Mere -stopping balls and poking about in the blockhole -is not cricket, however successful; and I must -admit, that one of the most awkward, poking, -vexatious blockers that ever produced a counterfeit -of cricket, defied Bayley and Cobbett at -Oxford in 1836,—three hours, and made five -and thirty runs. Another friend, a better player, -addicted to the same teasing game, in a match at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> -Exeter in 1845, blocked away till his party, the -N. Devon, won the match, chiefly by byes and -wide balls! Such men might have turned their -powers to much better account.</p> - -<p>Some maintain that anything that succeeds is -cricket; but not such cricket as full-grown men -should vote a scientific and a manly exercise; -otherwise, to “run cunning” might be Coursing, -and to kill sitting Shooting. A player may happen -to succeed with what is not generally a successful -style,—winning in spite of his awkwardness, and -not by virtue of it.</p> - -<p>But there is another cogent reason for letting -your arms, and not your body, do the work,—namely, -that it makes all the difference to your -sight whether the level of the eye remains the -same as with a composed and easy hitter; or, -unsteady and changing, as with the wriggling -and the clumsy player. Whether a ball undulates -in the air, or whether there is an equal undulation -in the line of the eye which regards that ball, the -confusion and indistinctness is the same. As an -experiment, look at any distant object, and move -your head up and down, and you will understand -the confusion of sight to which I allude. The -only security of a good batsman, as of a good shot, -consists in the hand and eye being habituated to -act together. Now, the hand may obey the eye -when at rest, but have no such habit when in unsteady<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> -motion. And this shows how uncertain all -hitting must be, when, either by the movement of -the body or other cause, the line of sight is suddenly -raised or depressed.</p> - -<p>The same law of sight shows the disadvantage -of men who stand at guard very low, and then -suddenly raise themselves as the ball is coming.</p> - -<p>The same law of sight explains the disadvantage -of stepping in to hit, especially with a slow dropping -ball: the eye is puzzled by a double motion—the -change in the level of the ball, and the change -in the level of the line of sight.</p> - -<p>So much for our theory; now for experience! -Look at Pilch and all fine players. How characteristic -is the ease and repose of their figures—no -hurry or trepidation. How little do their heads -or bodies move! Bad players dance about, as if -they stood on hot iron, a dozen times while the -ball is coming, with precisely the disadvantage -that attends an unsteady telescope. “Then you -would actually teach a man how to see?” We -would teach him how to give his eyes a fair chance. -Of sight, as of quickness, most players have -enough, if they would only make good use of it.</p> - -<p>To see a man wink his eyes and turn his head -away is not uncommon the first day of partridge -shooting, and quite as common at the wicket. An -undoubting judgment and knowledge of the principles -of batting literally improves the sight, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> -it increases that calm confidence which is essential -for keeping your eyes open and in a line to see -clearly.</p> - -<p>Sight of a ball also depends on a habit of undivided -attention both before and after delivery, -and very much on health. A yellow bilious eye -bespeaks a short innings: so, be very careful what -you eat and drink when engaged to play a match. -At a match at Purton in 1836, five of the Lansdowne -side, after supping on crab and champagne, -could do nothing but lie on the grass. But your -sight may be seriously affected when you do not -feel actually ill. So Horace found at Capua:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“<i>Namque pilâ lippis inimicum et ludere crudis.</i>”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Straight and Upright Play.</span>—To be a -good judge of a horse, to have good common -sense, and to hit straight and upright at Cricket, -are qualifications never questioned without dire -offence. Yet few, very few, ever play as upright -as they might play, and that even to guard their -three stumps. To be able, with a full and upright -bat, to play well over and to command a ball -a few inches to the Off, or a little to the leg, is a -very superior and rare order of ability.</p> - -<p>The first exercise for learning upright play is -to practise several times against an easy bowler, -with both hands on the same side of the handle of -the bat. Not that this is the way to hold a bat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> -in play, though the bat so held must be upright; -but this exercise of rather poking than playing -will inure you to the habit and method of upright -play. Afterwards shift your hands to their proper -position, and practise slipping your left hand -round into the same position, while in the act of -coming forward.</p> - -<p>But be sure you stand up to your work, or -close to your blockhole; and let the bowler admonish -you every time you shrink away or appear -afraid of the ball. Much practice is required -before it is possible for a young player to attain -that perfect composure and indifference to the -ball that characterises the professor. The least -nervousness or shrinking is sure to draw the bat -out of the perpendicular. As to shrinking from -the ball—I do not mean any apprehension of -injury, but only the result of a want of knowledge -of length or distance, and the result of uncertainty -as to how the ball is coming, and how -to prepare to meet it. Nothing distinguishes the -professor from the amateur more than the composed -and unshrinking posture in which he plays -a ball.</p> - -<p>Practice alone will prevent shrinking: so encourage -your bowler continually to remind you of -it. As to practising with a bowler, you see some -men at Lord’s and the University grounds batting -hour after hour, as if cricket were to be taken by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> -storm. To practise long at one time is positively -injurious. For about one hour a man may practise -to advantage; for a second hour, he may rather -improve his batting even by keeping wicket, or -acting long stop. Anything is good practice for -batting which only habituates the hand and eye -to act together.</p> - -<p>The next exercise is of a more elegant kind, -and quite coincident with your proper game. -Always throw back the point of the bat, while -receiving the ball, to the top of the middle stump, -as in figure, <a href="#Page_114">page 114</a>; then the handle will point -to the bowler, and the whole bat be in the line -of the wicket. By commencing in this position, -you cannot fail to bring your bat straight and -full upon the ball. If you take up your bat -straight, you cannot help hitting straight; but if -once you raise the point of the bat across the -wicket, to present a full bat for that ball is quite -impossible.</p> - -<p>One advantage of this exercise is that it may -be practised even without a bowler. The path -of a field, with ball and bat, and a stick for a -stump, are all the appliances required. Place the -ball before you, one, two, or more feet in advance, -and more or less On or Off, at discretion. Practise -hitting with right foot always fixed, and with -as upright and full a bat as possible: keep your -left elbow up, and always over the ball.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> - -<p>This exercise will teach, at the same time, the -full powers of the bat; what style of hitting is -most efficacious; at what angle you smother the -ball, and at what you can hit clean; only, be -careful to play in form; and always see that your -right foot has not moved before you follow to -pick up the ball. Fixing the right foot is alone a -great help to upright play; for while the right -foot remains behind, you are so completely over a -straight ball, and in a form to present a full bat, -that you will rarely play across the ball. Firmness -in the right foot is also essential to hard hitting, -for you cannot exert much strength unless you -stand in a firm and commanding position.</p> - -<p>Upright and straight hitting, then, requires, -briefly, the point of the bat thrown back to the -middle stump as the ball is coming; secondly, the -left elbow well up; and, thirdly, the right foot -fixed, and near the blockhole.</p> - -<p>Never play a single ball without strict attention -to these three rules. At first you will feel -cramped and powerless; but practice will soon -give ease and elegance, and form the habit not -only of all sure defence, but of all certain hitting: -for, the straight player has always wood enough -and to spare in the way of the ball; whereas, a -deviation of half an inch leaves the cross-player -at fault. Mr. William Ward once played a single-wicket -match with a thick stick, against another<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> -with a bat; yet these are not much more than -the odds of good straight play against cross play. -At Cheltenham College the first Eleven plays the -second Eleven “a broomstick match.”</p> - -<p>When a player hits almost every time he raises -his bat, the remark is, What an excellent eye that -batsman has! But, upright play tends far more -than eye to certainty in hitting. It is not easy to -miss when you make the most of every inch of -your bat. But when you trust to the width -alone, a slight error produces a miss, and not uncommonly -a catch.</p> - -<p>The great difficulty in learning upright play -consists in detecting when you are playing across. -So your practice-bowler must remind you of the -slightest shifting of the foot, shrinking from the -wicket, or declination of your bat. Straight -bowling is more easy to stand up to without -nervous shrinking, and slow bowling best reveals -every weak point, because a slow ball must be -played: it will not play itself. Many stylish -players are beaten by slow bowling; some, because -never thoroughly grounded in the principles -of correct play and judgment of lengths; others, -because hitting by rule and not at the ball. System -with scientific players is apt to supersede -sight; so take care as the mind’s eye opens the -natural eye does not shut.</p> - -<p>Underhand bowling is by far the best for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> -learner, and learners are, or should be, a large -class. Being generally at the wicket, it produces -the straightest play: falling stumps are “no flatterers, -but feelingly remind us what we are.” -Caldecourt, who had a plain, though judicious, -style of bowling, once observed a weak point in -Mr. Ward’s play, and levelled his stumps three -times in about as many balls. Many men boasting, -as Mr. Ward then did, of nearly the first -average of his day, would have blamed the bowler, -the ground, the wind, and, in short, any thing -but themselves; but Mr. Ward, a liberal patron -of the game, in the days of his prosperity, gave -Caldecourt a guinea for his judgment in the game -and his useful lesson. “Such,” Dr. Johnson -would say, “is the spirit and self-denial of those -whose memories are not doomed to decay” with -their bats, but play cricket for “immortality.”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Playing Forward and Back.</span>—And now -about length-balls, and when to play forward at -the pitch, and when back for a better sight of the -rebound.</p> - -<p>A length-ball is one that pitches at a puzzling -length from the bat. This length cannot be reduced -to any exact and uniform measurement, -depending on the delivery of the bowler and the -reach of the batsman.</p> - -<p>For more intelligible explanation, I must refer -you to your friends.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/lengths.jpg" width="400" height="158" alt="A diagram of how to play your bat at different bowling lengths" /> -</div> - -<p>Every player is conscious of one particular -length that puzzles him,—of one point between -himself and the bowler, in which he would rather -that the ball should not pitch. “There is a -length-ball that almost blinds you,” said an experienced -player at Lord’s. There is a length that -makes many a player shut his eyes and turn -away his head; “a length,” says Mr. Felix, -“that brings over a man most indescribable -emotions.” There are two ways to play such -balls: to discriminate is difficult, and, “if you -doubt, you are lost.” Let <span class="smcapuc">A</span> be the farthest point -to which a good player can reach, so as to plant -his bat at the proper angle, at once preventing a -catch, stopping a shooter, and intercepting a -bailer. Then, at any point short of <span class="smcapuc">A</span>, should the -bat be placed, the ball may rise over the bat if -held to the ground, or shoot under if the bat is a -little raised. At <span class="smcapuc">B</span> the same single act of planting -the bat cannot both cover a bailer and stop a -shooter. Every ball which the batsman can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> -reach, as at <span class="smcapuc">A</span>, may be met with a full bat -forward; and, being taken at the pitch, it is -either stopped or driven away with all its rising, -cutting, shooting, or twisting propensities undeveloped. -If not stopped at <span class="smcapuc">A</span>, the ball may rise -and shoot in six lines at least; so, if forced to -play back, you have six things to guard against -instead of one. Still, any ball you cannot cover -forward, as at <span class="smcapuc">B</span>, must be played back; and nearly -in the attitude shown in <a href="#Page_115">page 115.</a> This back -play gives as long a sight of the ball as possible, -and enables the player either to be up for a bailer -or down for a shooter.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">More Hard Nuts.</span>—Why do certain lengths -puzzle, and what is the nature of all this puzzling -emotion? It is a sense of confusion and of doubt. -At the moment of the pitch, the ball is lost in the -ground; so you doubt whether it will rise, or -whether it will shoot—whether it will twist, or -come in straight. The eye follows the ball till it -touches the ground: till this moment there is no -great doubt, for its course is known to be uniform. -I say no great doubt, because there is always -some doubt till the ball has passed some yards -from the bowler’s hand. The eye cannot distinguish -the direction of a ball approaching till it has -seen a fair portion of its flight. Then only can -you calculate what the rest of the flight will be. -Still, before the ball has pitched, the first doubt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> -is resolved, and the batsman knows the ball’s -direction; but, when once it touches the ground, -the change of light alone (earth instead of air -being the background) is trying to the eye. -Then, at the rise, recommences all the uncertainty -of a second delivery; for, the direction of the ball -has once more to be ascertained, and that requires -almost as much time for sight as will sometimes -bring the ball into the wicket.</p> - -<p>All this difficulty of sight applies only to the -batsman; to him the ball is advancing and foreshortened -in proportion as it is straight. If the -ball is rather wide, or if seen, as by Point, from -the side, the ball may be easily traced, without -confusion, from first to last. It is the fact of an -object approaching perfectly straight to you, that -confuses your sense of distance. A man standing -on a railway cannot judge of the nearness -of the engine; nor a man behind a target of the -approach of the arrow; whereas, seen obliquely, -the flight is clear. Hence a long hop is not a -puzzling length, because there is time to ascertain -the second part of the course or rebound. A toss -is easy because one course only. The tice also, -and the half-volley, or any over-pitched balls, are -not so puzzling, because they may be met forward, -and the two parts of the flight reduced to one. -Such is the philosophy of forward play, intended -to obviate the batsman’s chief difficulty,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> -which is, with the second part, or, the rebound of -the ball.</p> - -<p>The following are good rules:—</p> - -<p>1. Meet every ball at the pitch by forward -play which you can conveniently cover.</p> - -<p>Whatever ball you can play forward, you can -play safely—as by one single movement. But -in playing the same ball back, you give yourself -two things to think of instead of one—stopping -and keeping down a bailer; and, stopping a -shooter. Every ball is the more difficult to play -back in exact proportion to the ease with which -it might be played forward. The player has a -shorter sight, and less time to see the nature of -the rise; so the ball crowds upon him, affording -neither time nor space for effective play. Never -play back but of necessity; meet every ball forward -which you can conveniently cover—I say -<i>conveniently</i>, because, if the pitch of the ball -cannot be reached without danger of losing your -balance, misplacing your bat, or drawing your -foot out of your ground, that ball should be considered -out of reach, and be played back. This -rule many fine players, in their eagerness to score, -are apt to violate; so, if the ball rises abruptly, -they are bowled or caught. There is also danger -of playing wide of the ball, if you over-reach.</p> - -<p>2. Some say, When in doubt play back. Certainly -all balls may be played back; but many it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> -is almost impracticable to play forward. But -since the best forward players may err, the following -hint, founded on the practice of Fuller -Pilch, will suggest an excellent means of getting -out of a difficulty:—Practise the art of <i>half-play</i>; -that is, practise going forward to balls a little beyond -your reach, and then, instead of planting -your bat near the pitch, which is supposed too far -distant to be effectually covered, watch for the -ball about half-way, being up if it rises, and down -if it shoots. By this half-play, which I learnt -from one of Pilch’s pupils, I have often saved my -wicket when I found myself forward for a ball -out of reach; though before, I felt defenceless, -and often let the ball pass either under or over -my bat. Still half-play, though a fine saving -clause for proficients, is but a choice of evils, and -no practice for learners, as forming a bad habit. -By trying too many ways, you spoil your game.</p> - -<p>3. Ascertain the extent of your utmost reach -forward, and practise accordingly. The simplest -method is to fix your right foot at the crease, and -try how far forward you can conveniently plant -your bat at the proper angle; then, allowing that -the ball may be covered at about three feet from -its pitch, you will see at once how many feet you -can command in front of the crease. Pilch could -command from ten to twelve feet. Some short -men will command ten feet; that is to say, they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> -will safely meet forward every ball which pitches -within that distance from the crease.</p> - -<p>There are two ways of holding a bat in playing -forward. The position of the hands, as of Pilch, -in the frontispiece, standing at guard, will not -admit of a long reach forward. But by shifting -the left hand behind the bat, the action is free, -and the reach unimpeded.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/playing-forward.jpg" width="400" height="236" alt="A batsman playing forward, with his left hand behind the bat" /> -</div> - -<p>Every learner must practise this shifting of the -left hand in forward play. The hand will soon -come round naturally. Also, learn to reach forward -with composure and no loss of balance. -Play forward evenly and gracefully, with rather -an elastic movement. Practice will greatly increase -your reach. Take care you do not lose -sight of the ball, as many do; and, look at the -ball itself, not merely at the spot where you -expect it to pitch. Much depends on commencing -at the proper moment, and not being in a hurry.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> -Especially avoid any catch or flourish. Come -forward, foot and bat together, most evenly and -most quietly.</p> - -<p>Forward play may be practised almost as well -in a room as in a cricket-field: better still with a -ball in the path of a field. To force a ball back -to the bowler or long-field by hard forward play -is commonly called Driving; and driving you may -practise without any bowler, and greatly improve -in balance and correctness of form, and thus increase -the extent of your reach, and habituate the -eye to a correct discernment of the point at which -forward play ends and back play begins. By -practice you will attain a power of coming forward -with a spring, and playing hard or driving. All -fine players drive nearly every ball they meet -forward, and this driving admits of so many -degrees of strength that sometimes it amounts to -quite a hard hit. “I once,” said Clarke, “had -thought there might be a school opened for -cricket in the winter months; for, you may drill a -man to use a bat as well as a broad-sword.” With -driving, as with half-play, be not too eager—play -forward surely and steadily at first, otherwise the -point of the bat will get in advance, or the hit be -badly timed, and give a catch to the bowler. This -is one error into which the finest forward players -have sometimes gradually fallen—a vicious habit, -formed from an overweening confidence and success<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> -upon their own ground. Comparing notes -lately with an experienced player, we both remembered -a time when we thought we could -make hard and free hits even off those balls which -good players play gently back to the bowler; but -eventually a succession of short innings sent us -back to safe and sober play.</p> - -<p>Sundry other hits are made, contrary to every -rule, by players accustomed to one ground or -one set of bowlers. Many an Etonian has found -that a game, which succeeded in the Shooting -fields, has proved an utter failure when all was -new at Lord’s or in a country match.</p> - -<p>Every player should practise occasionally with -professional bowlers; for, they look to the principle -of play, and point out radical errors even in -showy hits. Even Pilch will request a friend to -stand by him in practice to detect any shifting of -the foot or other bad habit, into which experience -teaches that the best men unconsciously fall. I -would advise every good player to take one or -two such lessons at the beginning of the season. -A man cannot see himself, and will hardly believe -that he is taking up his bat across wicket, sawing -across at a draw, tottering over instead of -steady, moving off his ground at leg balls, or very -often playing forward with a flourish instead of -full on the ball, and making often most childish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> -mistakes which need only be mentioned to be -avoided.</p> - -<p>One great difficulty, we observed, consists in -correct discrimination of length and instantaneous -decision. To form correctly as the ball pitches, -there is time enough, but none to spare: time -only to act, no time to think. So also with -shooting, driving, and various kinds of exercises, -at the critical moment all depends not on thought, -but habit: by constant practice, the time requisite -for deliberation becomes less and less, till at length -we are unconscious of any deliberation at all,—acting, -as it were, by intuition or instinct, for the -occasion prompts the action: then, in common -language, we “do it naturally,” or, have formed -that habit which is “a second nature.”</p> - -<p>In this sense, a player must form a habit of -correct decision in playing forward and back. -Till he plays by habit, he is not safe: the sight of -the length must prompt the corresponding movement. -Look at Fuller Pilch, or Mr. C. Taylor, -and this rule will be readily understood; for, -with such players, every ball is as naturally and -instinctively received by its appropriate movement -as if the player were an automaton, and the ball -touched a spring: so quickly does forward play, -or back, and the attitude for off-cut or leg-hit, -appear to coincide with, or rather to anticipate, -each suitable length. All this quickness, ease,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -and readiness marks a habit of correct play; and -the question is, how to form such a habit.</p> - -<p>All the calmness or composure we admire in -proficients results from a habit of playing each -length in one way, and in one way only. To -attain this habit, measure your reach before the -crease, as you begin to practise with a bowler; -and, make a mark visible to the bowler, but not -such as will divert your own eye.</p> - -<p>Having fixed such a mark, let your bowler -pitch, as nearly as he can, sometimes on this side -of the mark, sometimes on that. After every -ball, you have only to ask, Which side? and you -will have demonstrative proof whether your play -has been right or wrong. Constant practice, -with attention to the pitch, will habituate your -eye to lengths, and enable you to decide in a -moment how to play.</p> - -<p>For my own part, I have rarely practised for -years without this mark. It enables me to ascertain, -by referring to the bowler, where any -ball has pitched. To know at a glance the exact -length of a ball, however necessary, is not quite -as easy to the batsman as to the bowler; and, -without practising with a mark, you may remain -a long time in error.</p> - -<p>After a few days’ practice, you will become as -certain of the length of each ball, and of your -ability to reach it, as if you actually saw the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> -mark, for you will carry the measurement in -“your mind’s eye.”</p> - -<p>So far well: you have gained a perception of -lengths and distance; the next thing is, to apply -this knowledge. Therefore, bear in mind you have -a <span class="smcapuc">HABIT TO FORM</span>. No doubt, many will laugh -at this philosophy. Pilch does not know the -“theory of moral habits,” I dare say; but he -knows well enough that wild practice spoils play; -and if to educated men I please to say that, wild -play involves the formation of a set of bad habits -to hang about you, and continually interfere with -good intentions, where is the absurdity? How -should you like to be doomed to play with some -mischievous fellow, always tickling your elbow, -and making you spasmodically play forward, when -you ought to play back, or, hit round or cut, when -you ought to play straight? Precisely such a -mischievous sprite is a bad habit. Till you have -got rid of him, he is always liable to come across -you and tickle you out of your innings: all your -resolution is no good. Habit is a much stronger -principle than resolution. Accustom the hand to -obey sound judgment, otherwise it will follow its -old habit instead of your new principles.</p> - -<p>To borrow an admirable illustration from Plato, -which Socrates’ pupil remarked was rather apt -than elegant,—“While habit keeps up itching, -man can’t help scratching.” And what is most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> -remarkable in bad habits of play is, that, long -after a man thinks he has overcome them, by -some chance association, the old trick appears -again, and a man feels (oh! fine for a moralist!) -<i>one law in his mind and another law</i>—or rather, -let us say, he feels a certain latent spring in him -ever liable to be touched, and disturb all the harmony -of his cricketing economy.</p> - -<p>Having, therefore, a habit to form, take the -greatest pains that you methodically play forward -to the over-pitched, and back to the under-pitched, -balls. My custom was, the moment the ball -pitched, to say audibly to myself “forward,” or -“back.” By degrees I was able to calculate the -length sooner and sooner before the pitch, having, -of course, the more time to prepare; till, at last, -no sooner was the ball out of the bowler’s hand, -than ball and bat were visibly preparing for each -other’s reception. After some weeks’ practice, -forward and back play became so easy, that I -cease to think about it: the very sight of the -ball naturally suggesting the appropriate movement; -in other words, I had formed a habit of -correct play in this particular.</p> - -<p>“<i>Suave mari magno</i>,” says Lucretius; that is, -it is delightful, from the vantage ground of -science, to see others floundering in a sea of error, -and to feel a happy sense of comparative security;—so, -was it no little pleasure to see the many<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> -wickets that fell, or the many catches which were -made, from defects I had entirely overcome.</p> - -<p>For, without the habit aforesaid, a man will -often shut his eyes, and remove his right fingers, -as if the bat were hot, and then look behind him -and find his wicket down. A second, will advance -a foot forward, feel and look all abroad, and then -try to seem unconcerned, if no mischief happens. -A third, will play back with the shortest possible -sight of the ball, and hear his stumps rattle before -he has time to do anything. A fourth, will stand -still, a fixture of fuss and confusion, with the same -result; while a fifth, will go gracefully forward, -with straightest possible bat, and the most meritorious -elongation of limb, and the ball will pass -over the shoulder of his bat, traverse the whole -length of his arms, and back, and colossal legs, -tipping off the bails, or giving a chance to the -wicket-keeper. Then, as Poins says of Falstaff, -“The virtue of this jest will be the incomprehensible -lies that this same fat rogue will tell us.” -For, when a man is out by this simple error in -forward or backward play, it would take a volume -to record the variety of his excuses.</p> - -<p>The reason so much has been said about Habit -is, partly, that the player may understand that -bad habits are formed as readily as good; that a -repetition of wild hits, or experimentalising with -hard hits off good lengths, may disturb your quick<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> -perception of critical lengths, and give you an -uncontrollable habit of dangerous hitting.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Shooter.</span>—This is the surest and most -destructive ball that is bowled. Stopping shooters -depends on correct position, on a habit of playing -at the ball and not losing it after the pitch, and -on a quick discernment of lengths.</p> - -<p>The great thing is decision; to doubt is to lose -time, and to lose time is to lose your wicket. -And this decision requires a correct habit of -forward and back play. But since prevention is -better than cure, by meeting at the pitch every -ball within your reach, you directly diminish the -number, not only of shooters, but of the most -dangerous of all shooters, because of those which -afford the shortest time to play. But, supposing -you cannot cover the ball at the pitch, and a -shooter it must be, then—</p> - -<p>The first thing is, to have the bat always -pointed back to the wicket, as in <i>fig. 1.</i> <a href="#Page_115">page 115</a>; -thus you will drop down on the ball, and have all -the time and space the case admits of. If the bat -is not previously thrown back, when the ball shoots -the player has two operations,—the one, to put the -bat back: and the other, to ground it: instead of -one simple drop down alone. I never saw any man -do this better than Wenman, when playing the -North and South match at Lord’s in 1836. Redgate -was in his prime, and almost all his balls<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> -were shooting down the hill; and, from the good -time and precision with which Wenman dropped -down upon some dozen shooters, with all the pace -and spin for which Redgate was famous—the -ground being hardened into brick by the sun—I -have ever considered Wenman equal to any batsman -of his day.</p> - -<p>The second thing is, to prepare for back play -with the first possible intimation that the ball will -require it. A good player descries the enemy, -and drops back as soon as the ball is out of the -bowler’s hand.</p> - -<p>The third—a golden rule for batsmen—is: -expect a good length to shoot, and you will have -time, if it rises: but if you expect it to rise, you -are too late if it shoots.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Bail Ball.</span>—First, the attitude is that -of <i>fig. 1.</i> The bat thrown back to the bails is -indispensable for quickness: if you play a bailer -too late, short slip is placed on purpose to catch -you out; therefore watch the ball from the -bowler’s hand, and drop back on your wicket in -good time. Also, take the greatest pains in -tracing the ball every inch from the hand to the -bat. Look hard for the twist, or a “break” will -be fatal. To keep the eye steadily on the ball, -and not lose it at the pitch, is a hint even for -experienced players: so make this the subject of -attentive practice.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p> - -<p>The most difficult of all bailers are those which -ought not to be allowed to come in as bailers -at all, those which should be met at the pitch. -Such over-pitched balls give neither time nor -space, if you attempt to play them back.</p> - -<p>Every length ball is difficult to play back, just -in proportion to the ease with which it could be -covered forward. A certain space, from nine to -twelve feet, before the crease is, to a practised -batsman, so much <i>terra firma</i>, whereon pitching -every ball is a safe stop or score. Practise with -the chalk mark, and learn to make this <i>terra -firma</i> as wide as possible.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Draw</span> is so called, I suppose, because, -when perfectly made, there is no draw at all. -Look at <i>fig. 2.</i> The bat is not drawn across the -wicket, but hangs perpendicularly from the wrists; -though the wrists of a good player are never -idle, but bring the bat to meet the ball a few -inches, and the hit is the natural angle formed by -the opposing forces. “Say also,” suggests Clarke, -“that the ball meeting the bat, held easy in the -hand, will turn it a little of its own force, and the -wrists <i>feel</i> when to help it.” This old rule hardly -consists with the principle of meeting the ball.</p> - -<p>The Draw is the spontaneous result of straight -play about the two leg stumps: for if you begin, -as in <i>fig. 1.</i>, with point of bat thrown back true -to middle stump, you cannot bring the bat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> -straight to meet a leg-stump ball without the -line of the bat and the line of the ball forming -an angle in crossing each other; and, by keeping -your wrists well back, and giving a clear space -between body and wicket, the Draw will follow -of itself.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 392px;"> -<p class="caption"><i>Fig. 2.</i></p> -<img src="images/fig2.jpg" width="392" height="400" alt="Figure 2" /> -</div> - -<p>The bat must not be purposely presented edgeways -in the least degree. Draw a full bat from -the line of the middle stump to meet a leg-stump<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> -ball, and, as the line of the ball must make a very -acute angle, you will have the benefit of a hit -without lessening your defence. “A Draw is -very dangerous with a ball that would hit the leg -stump,” some say; but only when attempted in -the wrong way; for, how can a full bat increase -your danger?</p> - -<p>This mode of play will also lead to, what is -most valuable but most rare, a correct habit of -passing every ball the least to the Near side of -middle stump clear away to the On side. This -blocking between legs and wickets, first, obviates -the ball going off legs into wicket; secondly, it -keeps many awkward balls out of Slip’s hands; -and, thirdly, it makes single runs off the best -balls.</p> - -<p>Too little, now-a-days, is done with the Draw; -too much is attempted by the “blind swipe,” to -the loss of many wickets.</p> - -<p>Every man in a first-rate match who loses his -wicket, while swiping round, ought to pay a -forfeit to the Reward Fund.</p> - -<p>The only balls for the Draw are those which -threaten the wicket. To shuffle backwards half -a yard, scraping the bat on the ground, or to let -the ball pass one side the body with a blind swing -on the other, are hits which to mention is to -reprove.</p> - -<p>Our good friend, Mr. Abraham Bass,—and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> -what cricketer in the Midland Counties defers not -to his judgment?—thinks that the Draw cannot -be made quite so much of as we say, except by a -left-handed man. The short-pitched balls which -some draw, he thinks, are best played back to -middle On, by a turn of the left arm to the -On side.</p> - -<p>Here Mr. Bass mentions a very good hit—a -good variety—and one, too, little practised: his -hit and the Draw are each good in their respective -places. To discriminate every shade is impossible. -“Mr. Taylor had most hits I ever saw,” -said Caldecourt, “and was a better player even -than Lord Frederick; though Mr. Taylor’s hits -were not all <i>legitimate</i>:” so much the better; new -combinations of old hits.</p> - -<p>As to the old-fashioned hit under leg, Mr. -Mynn, at Leicester, in 1836, gave great effect -to one variety of it; a hit which Pilch makes -useful, though hard to make elegant. Some say, -with Caldecourt, such balls ought always to be -drawn: but is it not a useful variety?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Draw or Glance from off Stump.</span>—What -is true of the Leg stump is true of the Off, -care being taken of catch to Slips. Every ball -played from two Off stumps, by free play of wrist -and left shoulder well over, should go away -among the Slips. Play hard on the ball; the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> -ball must never hit a dead bat; and every so-called -block, from off stumps, must be a hit.</p> - -<p>Commence, as always, from <i>fig. 1.</i>; stand close -up to your wicket; weight on pivot-foot; balance-foot -ready to come over as required. This is the -only position from which you can command the -off stump.</p> - -<p>Bear with me, my friends, in dwelling so much -on this Off-play. Many fine cutters could never -in their lives command off stump with a full and -upright bat. Whence come the many misses of -off-hits? Observe, and you will see, it is because -the bat is slanting, or it must sweep the whole -space through which the ball could rise.</p> - -<p>By standing close up, and playing well over -your wicket with straight bat, and throwing, by -means of left leg, the body forwards over a ball -rising to the off-stump, you may make an effective -hit from an off-bailer without lessening your -defence; for how can hard blocking, with a full -bat, be dangerous? All that is required is, -straight play and a free wrist, though certainly -a tall man has here a great advantage.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A free Wrist.</span>—Without wrist play there -can be no good style of batting. Do not be -puzzled about “throwing your body into your hit.” -Absurd, except with straight hits—half-volley, -for instance. Suspend a ball, oscillating by a -string from a beam, keep your right foot fixed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> -and use the left leg to give the time and command -of the ball and to adjust the balance, and you -will soon learn the power of the wrists and arms. -Also, use no heavy bats; 2 lbs. 2 oz. is heavy -enough for any man who plays with his wrists. -The wrist has, anatomically, two movements; the -one up and down, the other from side to side; -and to the latter power, by much the least, the -weight of the bat must be proportioned. “My -old-fashioned bat,” said Mr. E. H. Budd, “weighed -nearly three pounds, and Mr. Ward’s a pound -more.”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Off-hit</span>, here intended, is made with -upright bat, where the horizontal cut were dangerous -or uncertain. It may be made with any -off-ball, one or two feet wide of the wicket. The -left shoulder must be well over the ball, and this -can only be effected by crossing, as in <i>fig. 3.</i> <a href="#Page_159">p. 159</a>, -left leg over. This, one of the best players -agrees, is a correct hit, provided the ball be -pitched well up; otherwise he would apply the -Cut: but the cut serves only when a ball rises; -and I am unwilling to spare one that comes in -near the ground.</p> - -<p>This upright off-hit, with left leg crossed over, -may be practised with a bat and ball in the path -of a field. You may also devise some “Chamber -Practice,” without any ball, or with a soft ball -suspended—not a bad in-door exercise in cold<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> -weather. When proficient, you will find that -you have only to hit at the ball, and the balance-foot -will naturally cross over and adjust itself.</p> - -<p>In practising with a bowler, I have often fixed -a fourth stump, about six inches from off-stump, -and learnt to guard it with upright bat. <i>Experto -crede</i>, you may learn to sweep with almost an -upright bat balls as much as two feet to the Off. -But this is a hit for balls requiring back play, -but—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cover-hit</span> is the hit for over-pitched off-balls. -Come forward hard to meet an off-ball; and then, -as your bat moves in one line, and the ball meets -it in another, the resultant will be Cover-hit. By -no means turn the bat: a full face is not only -safe but effective.</p> - -<p>With all off-hits beware of the bias of the ball -to the off, and play well over the ball—very difficult -for young players. Never think about what -off-hits you can make, unless you keep the ball -safely down.</p> - -<p>The fine square leg-hit is similar to cover-hit, -though on the other side. To make cover-hit -clean, and not waste power against the ground, -you must take full advantage of your height, and -play the bat well down on the ball from your hip, -timing nicely, eye still on the ball, and inclining -the bat neither too little nor too much.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<p class="caption"><i>Fig. 3.</i></p> -<img src="images/fig3.jpg" width="400" height="369" alt="Figure 3" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Forward Cut</span>, a name by which I would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> -distinguish another off-hit is a hit made by -Butler, Guy, Dakin, Parr, and indeed especially -by the Nottingham men, who, Clarke thinks, “hit -all round them” better than men of any other -county (see <i>fig. 3.</i>). The figures being foreshortened -as seen by the bowler, the artist unwillingly -sacrifices effect to show the correct -position of the feet. This hit may be made from -balls too wide and too low for the backward cut.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> -Cross the left leg over, watch the ball from its -pitch, and you may make off-hits from balls low -or cut balls high (unless very high, and then you -have time to drop the bat) with more commanding -power than in any other position. Some good -players do not like this crossing of left foot, -preferring the cutting attitude of <i>fig. 3.</i>; but I -know from experience and observation, that there -is not a finer or more useful hit in the field; -for, if a ball is some two feet to the Off, it -matters not whether over-pitched or short-pitched, -the same position, rather forward, equally applies.</p> - -<p>The Forward Cut sends the ball between Point -and Middle-wicket, an open part of the field, and -even to Long-field sometimes: no little advantage. -Also, it admits of much greater quickness. You -may thus intercept forward, what you would be -too late to cut back.</p> - -<p>To learn it, fix a fourth stump in the ground, -one foot or more wide to the Off; practise carefully -keeping right foot fixed, and crossing left -over, and preserve the cutting attitude; and this -most brilliant hit is easily acquired.</p> - -<p>When you play a ball Off, do not lose your -balance and stumble awkwardly one foot over the -other, but end in good form, well on your feet. -Even good players commit this fault; also, in -playing back some players look as if they would -tumble over their wicket.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Cut</span> is generally considered the most delightful -hit in the game. The Cut proper is made -by very few. Many make Off-hits, but few “cut -from the bails between short slip and point with -a late horizontal bat—cutting, never by guess but -always by sight, at the ball itself; the cut applying -to rather short-pitched balls, not actually long -hops; and that not being properly a cut which is -in advance of the point.” Such is the definition -of Mr. Bradshaw, whom a ten years’ retirement -has not prevented from being known as one of -the best hitters of the day.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<p class="caption"><i>Fig. 4.</i></p> -<img src="images/fig4.jpg" width="400" height="339" alt="Figure 4" /> -</div> - -<p>The attitude of cutting is faintly given (because -foreshortened) in <i>fig. 4.</i> This represents a cut at -rather a wide ball; and a comparison of <i>figs. 3.</i> -and <i>4.</i> will show that, with rather wide Off-balls, -the Forward Cut is the better position; for you -more easily intercept balls before they are out of -play. Right leg would be thrown back rather -than advanced, were the ball nearer the wicket. -Still, the attitude is exceptional. Look at the -other figures, and the cutter alone will appear with -right foot shifted. Compare <i>fig. 1.</i> with the other -figures, and the change is easy, as in the left foot -alone; but, compare it with the cuts (<i>figs. 4.</i> and -<i>5.</i>), and the whole position is reversed: right -shoulder advanced, and right foot shifted. There -is no ball that can be cut which may not be hit -by one of the other Off-hits already mentioned,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> -and that with far greater certainty, though not -with so brilliant an effect. Pilch and many of -the steadiest and best players never make the -genuine cut. “Mr. Felix,” says Clarke, “cuts -splendidly; but, in order to do so, he cuts before -he sees the ball, and thus misses two out of three.” -Neither do I believe that any man will reconcile -the habitual straight play and command of off-stump, -which distinguishes Pilch, with a cutting -game. Each virtue, even in Cricket, has its excess: -fine Leg-hitters are apt to endanger the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> -leg-stump; fine Cutters, the Off. For, the Cutter -must begin to take up his altered position so soon, -that the idea must be running in his head almost -while the ball is being delivered; then, the first -impulse brings the bat at once out of all defensive -and straight play. Right shoulder involuntarily -starts back; and, if at the wrong kind of ball, -the wicket is exposed, and all defence at an end. -But with long-hops there is time enough to cut; -the difficulty is with good balls: and, to cut them, -not by guess but, by sight. <i>Fig. 5.</i> represents a -cut at a ball nearer the wicket, the right foot -being drawn back to gain space.</p> - -<p>So much for the abuse of Cutting. If the ball -does not rise, there can be no Cut, however loose -the bowling; though, with the other Off-hits, two -or three might be scored. The most winning -game is that which plays the greatest number -of balls—an art in which no man can surpass -Baldwinson of Yorkshire. Still a first-rate player -should have a command of every hit: a bowler -may be pitching uniformly short, and the balls -may be rising regularly: in this case, every one -would like to see a good Cutter at the wicket.</p> - -<p>To learn the Cut, suspend a ball from a string -and a beam, oscillating backwards and forwards—place -yourself as at a wicket, and experimentalise. -You will find:—</p> - -<p>1. You have no power in Cutting, unless you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> -Cut late—“off the bails:” then only can you use -the point of your bat.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 326px;"> -<p class="caption"><i>Fig. 5.</i></p> -<img src="images/fig5.jpg" width="326" height="400" alt="Figure 5" /> -</div> - -<p>2. You have no power, unless you turn on the -basis of your feet, and front the ball, your back -being almost turned upon the bowler, at the -moment of cutting.</p> - -<p>3. Your muscles have very little power in Cutting -quite horizontally, but very great power in -Cutting down on the ball.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p> - -<p>This agrees with the practice of the best -players. Mr. Bradshaw follows the ball and cuts -very late, cutting down. He drops his bat, apparently, -on the top of the ball. Lord Frederick -used to describe the old-fashioned Cutting as done -in the same way. Mr. Bradshaw never Cuts but -by sight; and since, when the eye catches the -rise of a good length ball, not a moment must be -lost, his bat is thrown back just a little—an inch -or two higher than the bails (he stoops a little for -the purpose)—and dropped on the ball in an -instant, by play of the wrist alone. Thus does -he obtain his peculiar power of Cutting even -fair-length balls by sight.</p> - -<p>Harry Walker, Robinson, and Saunders were -the three great Cutters; and they all Cut very -late. But the underhand bowling suited cutting -(proper) better than round-armed; for all Off-hitting -is not cutting. Mr. Felix gives wonderful -speed to the ball, effected by cutting down, adding -the weight of a descending bat to the free -and full power of the shoulder: he would hardly -have time for such exertion if he hit with the precision -of Mr. Bradshaw, and not hitting till he -saw the ball.</p> - -<p>Lord Frederick found fault with Mr. Felix’s -picture of “the Cut,” saying it implied force from -the whirl of the bat; whereas a cut should proceed -from wrists alone, descending with bat in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> -hand,—precisely Mr. Bradshaw’s hit. “Excuse -me, my Lord,” said Mr. Felix, “that’s not a Cut, -but only a <i>pat</i>.” The said <i>pat</i>, or wrist play, I -believe to be the only kind of cutting by sight, for -good-length balls.</p> - -<p>To encourage elegant play, and every variety -of hit, we say practise each kind of cut, both -Lord Frederick’s <i>pat</i> and Mr. Felix’s off-hit, and -the Nottingham forward cut, with left leg over; -but beware of using either in the wrong place. -A man of one hit is easily managed. A good off-hitter -should send the ball according to its pitch, -not to one point only, but to three or four. Old -Fennex used to stand by Saunders, and say no -hitting could be finer—“no hitter such a fool—see, -sir, they have found out his hit—put a man -to stop his runs—still, cutting, nothing but cutting—why -doesn’t the man hit somewhere else?” So -with Jarvis of Nottingham, a fine player and one -of the best cutters of his day, when a man was -placed for his cut, it greatly diminished his score. -For off-balls we have given, Off-play to the slips—Cover -hit—the Nottingham hit more towards -middle wicket; and, the Cut between slip and -point—four varieties. Let each have its proper -place, till an old player can say, as Fennex said -of Beldham,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> “He hit quick as lightning all round -him. He appeared to have no hit in particular: -you could never place a man against him: where -the ball was pitched there it was hit away.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 343px;"> -<p class="caption"><i>Fig. 6.</i></p> -<img src="images/fig6.jpg" width="343" height="400" alt="Figure 6" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Leg-hitting.</span>—Besides the draw, there are -two distinct kinds of leg-hits—one forward, the -other back. The forward leg-hit is made, as in -<i>fig. 6.</i>, by advancing the left foot near the pitch -of the ball, and then hitting down upon the ball -with a free arm, the bat being more or less horizontal,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> -according to the length of the ball. A -ball so far pitched as to require little stride of left -leg, will be hit with nearly a straight bat: a ball -as short as you can stride to, will require nearly a -horizontal bat. The ball you can reach with -straight bat, will go off on the principle of the -cover-hit—the more square the better. But, -when a ball is only just within reach, by using a -horizontal bat, you know where to find the ball -just before it has risen; for, your bat covers the -space about the pitch. If you reach far enough, -even a shooter may be picked up; and if a few -inches short of the pitch, you may have all the -joyous spring of a half-volley. The better pitched -the bowling, the easier is the hit, if the ball be -only a little to the leg. In using a horizontal bat, -if you cannot reach nearer than about a foot from -the pitch, sweep your bat through the line in -which the ball should rise. Look at <i>fig. 7.</i> -<a href="#Page_173">p. 173</a>. The bat should coincide with or sweep -a fair bat’s length of that dotted line. But if -the point of the bat cannot reach to within a foot -of the pitch, that ball must be played back.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Short-pitched Leg Ball</span> needs no -comment, save that, according as it is more or -less to the wicket, you may,—1. Draw it; 2. -Play it by a new hit, to be explained, a Draw or -glance outside your leg; 3. You may step back -on your wicket to gain space, and play it away to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> -middle On, or cut it round, according to your -sight of it.</p> - -<p>But in leg-hitting, beware of a “blind swipe,” -or that chance hit, by guess of where the ball will -rise, which some make when the bat cannot properly -command the pitch. This blind hit is often -made at a ball not short enough to play by sight -back, nor long enough to command forward. Parr -advances left foot as far as he can, and hits where -the ball ought to be. But this he would hardly -advise, except you can nearly command the pitch; -otherwise, a blind swing of the bat, although the -best players are sometimes betrayed into it, is by -no means to be recommended.</p> - -<p>Reader, do you ever make the square hit On? -Or, do you ever drive a ball back from the leg-stump -to long-field On? Probably not. Clarke -complains that this good old hit is gone out, -and that one more man is thereby brought about -the wicket. If you cannot make this hit, you have -evidently a faulty style of play. So, practise -diligently with leg-balls, till balls from two leg-stumps -go to long-field On, and balls a little wide -of leg-stump go nearly square; and do not do this -by a kind of push—much too common,—but by -a real hit, left shoulder forward.</p> - -<p>Also, do you ever draw out of your ground in -a leg-hit? Doubly dangerous is this—danger -of stumping and danger of missing easy hits. If<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> -once you move your pivot foot, you lose that -self-command essential for leg-hits. So, practise, -in your garden or your room, the stride and swing -of the bat, till you have learnt to preserve your -balance.</p> - -<p>One of the best leg-hitters is Dakin: and his -rule is: keep your right foot firm on your ground; -advance the left straight to the pitch, and as far -as you can reach, and hit as straight at the pitch -as you can, just as if you were hitting to long-field: -as the lines of bat and ball form an angle, -the ball will fly away square of itself.</p> - -<p>My belief is, the Wykehamists introduced the -art of hitting leg-balls at the pitch. When, in -1833, at Oxford, Messrs. F. B. Wright and Payne -scored above sixty each off Lillywhite and Broadbridge, -it was remarked by the players, they had -never seen their leg-hit before. Clarke says he -showed how to make forward leg-hits at Nottingham. -For, the Nottingham men used to hit after -leg-balls, and miss them, till he found the way of -intercepting them at the rise, and hitting square.</p> - -<p>And this will be a fair occasion for qualifying -certain remarks which would appear to form what -is aptly called a “toe-in-the-hole” player.</p> - -<p>When I spoke so strongly about using the -right foot as a pivot, and the left as a balance -foot, insisting, also, on not moving the right foot, -I addressed myself not to proficients, but to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> -learners. Such is the right position for almost -all the hits on the ball, and this fixing of the foot -is the only way to keep a learner in his proper -form.</p> - -<p>Experienced players—I mean those who have -passed through the University Clubs, and aspire -to be chosen in the Gentlemen’s Eleven of All -England—must be able to move each foot on -its proper occasion, especially with slow bowling. -Clarke says, “If I see a man set fast on his legs, -I know he can’t play my bowling.” The reason -is, as we shall explain presently, that the accurate -hitting necessary for slow bowling requires not -long reaching, but a short, quick action of the -arms and wrists, and activity on the legs, to shift -the body to suit this hitting in narrow compass.</p> - -<p>A practised player should also be able to go in -to over-pitched balls, to give effect to his forward -play. To be stumped out looks ill indeed; still, -a first-rate player should have confidence and -coolness enough to bide his time, and then go -boldly and steadily in and hit away. If you do -go in, take care you go far enough, and as far as the -pitch; and, only go in to straight balls, for to those -alone can you carry a full bat. And, never go in -to make a free swing of the bat or tremendous -swipe. Go in with a straight bat, not so much -to hit, as to drive or block the ball hard away, or, -as Clarke says, “to run the ball down.” Stepping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> -in only succeeds with cool and judicious -hitters, who have some power of execution. All -young players must be warned that, for any but a -most practised player to leave his ground, is decidedly -a losing game.</p> - -<p>Supposing the batsman knows how to move his -right foot back readily, then, a long-hop to the leg -admits of various modes of play, which I feel -bound to mention, though not to recommend; for, -a first-rate player should at least know every hit: -whether he will introduce it much or little into -his game is another question.</p> - -<p>A leg-ball that can be played by sight is sometimes -played by raising the left leg. This is quite -a hit of the old school,—of Sparkes and Fennex, -for instance. Fennex’s pupil, Fuller Pilch, commonly -makes this hit. Some first-rate judges—Caldecourt -among others—maintain it should never -be made, but the Draw always used instead. -Mr. Taylor found it a useful variety; for, before -he used it, Wenman used to stump him from balls -inside leg stump. For some lengths it has certainly -the advantage of placing the ball in a more -open part of the field.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> -<p class="caption"><i>Fig. 7.</i></p> -<img src="images/fig7.jpg" width="300" height="400" alt="Figure 7" /> -</div> - -<p>Another way to play such balls is to step back -with the right foot, and thus gain time and length -of hop, and play the ball away, with short action -of the arm and wrist, about middle On. This also -is good, as making one hit more in your game.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> -Another hit there is which bears a name not -very complimentary to Mr. James Dean; though -Sampson, of Sheffield, attains in a similar manner -remarkable certainty in meeting leg-balls, and not -inelegantly. My attention was first called to this -hit by watching the play of Mr. E. Reeves, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> -makes it with all the ease and elegance of the -Draw, of which I consider it one variety. Clarke -says, that with a ball scarcely wide of your leg, -he thinks it a good hit: I have, therefore, given a -drawing of it in <a href="#Page_172">the last page</a>. When done correctly, -and in its proper place, it is made by an -easy and elegant movement of the wrists, and -looks as pretty as the Draw; but this kind of -forward play, which takes an awkward ball at its -rise and places it on the On-side, however useful -to Sampson of Sheffield and the very few who -introduce it in its proper place,—this is a hit -which <i>nascitur non fit</i>, must come naturally, as a -variety of forward play. To study it, makes a -poking game, and spoils the play of hundreds. So, -beware how you practise the poke.</p> - -<p>“The best way to score from short-pitched leg-balls,” -writes a very good hitter,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> “is to make a -sort of sweep with the left foot, almost balancing -yourself by the toe of the said left foot, and resting -chiefly on the right foot,—at the same time -drawing yourself upright and retiring towards the -wicket. This of course is all one movement. In -this position you make the heel of your right the -pivot on which you turn, and move your left (but -in a greater circle), so that both preserve the same -parallel as at starting, and come round together; -and this I regard as the great secret of a batsman’s -movement in this hit. This gives you the power -of simply playing the ball down, if it rises much, -and likewise of hitting hard if it keep within a foot -of the ground. Both Sampson and Parr score very -much in this style.”</p> - -<p>However, with fast bowling, there are almost -as many mistakes as runs made by hitting at -these short-pitched leg-balls. Pilch, in his later -days, would hardly meddle with them.</p> - -<p>Lastly, as to leg-balls, remember that almost -any one can learn to hit clean up (square, especially); -the art is to play them down. Also, leg-hitting -alone is very easy; but, to be a good Off-player, -and an upright and straight player, and -yet hit to leg freely, is very rare. We know a -fine leg-hitter who lost his leg-hit entirely when -he learnt to play better to the off.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAP_VIII">CHAP. VIII.<br /> -<span class="smaller">HINTS AGAINST SLOW BOWLING.</span></h2> - -<p>While our ideas on Slow Bowling were yet in -a state of solution, they were, all at once, precipitated -and crystallised into natural order by -the following remarks from a valued correspondent:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I have said that Pilch was unequalled with -the bat, and his great excellence is in <i>timing</i> the -ball. No one ever mastered Lillywhite like -Pilch; because, in his forward play, he was not -very easily deceived by that wary individual’s -repeated change of pace. He plays forward with -his eye on, not only the pitch, but on the ball -itself, being faster or slower in his advance by a -calm calculation of time—a point too little considered -by some even of the best batsmen of the -day. No man hits much harder than Pilch; and, -be it observed, hard hitting is doubly hard, in all -fair comparison, when combined with that steady -posture which does not sacrifice the defence of -the wicket for some one favourite cut or leg-hit. -Compare Pilch with good general hitters, who, at -the same time, guard their wicket, and I doubt if -you can find from this select class a harder hitter -in England.”</p> - -<p>This habit of playing each ball by correct -judgment of its time and merits has made Pilch -one of the few who play Old Clarke as he should -be played. He plays him back all day if he bowls -short, and hits him hard all along the ground, -whenever he overpitches; and sometimes he will -go in to Clarke’s bowling, but not to make a -furious swipe, but to “run him down” with a -straight bat. This going in to Clarke’s bowling -some persons think necessary for every ball, forgetting -that “discretion is the better part of” -cricket; the consequence is that many wickets -fall from positive long hops. Almost every man -who begins to play against Clarke appears to -think he is in honour bound to hit every ball out -of the field: and, every one who attempts it comes -out saying, “What rubbish!—no play in it!” -The truth being that there is a great deal of play -in it, for it requires real knowledge of the game. -You have curved lines to deal with instead of -straight ones. “But, what difference does that -make?” We shall presently explain.</p> - -<p>The amusing part is, that this cry of “What -rubbish!” has been going on for years, and still -the same error prevails. Experience is not like -anything hereditary: the generations of eels do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> -not get used to being skinned, nor do the generations -of men get tired of doing the same foolish -thing. Each must suffer <i>propriâ personâ</i>, and not -by proxy. So, the gradual development of the -human mind against Clarke’s bowling is for the -most part this:—first, a state of confidence in -hitting every ball; secondly, a state of disgust -and contempt at what seems only too easy for a -scientific player to practise; and, lastly, a slowly -increasing conviction that the batsman must have -as much head as the bowler, with patience to -play an unusual number of good lengths.</p> - -<p>Slow bowling is most effective when there is -a fast bowler at the other end. It is very puzzling -to alter your time in forward play from -fast to slow, and slow to fast, every Over: so, -Clarke and Wisden work well together. A -shooter from a slow bowler is sometimes found -even more difficult than one from a fast bowler: -and this for two reasons; first, because the batsman -is made up for slow time and less prepared -for fast; and, secondly, because a good slow ball -is pitched further up, and, therefore, though the -fast ball shoots quicker, the slow ball has the -shorter distance to shoot into the wicket.</p> - -<p>Compare the several styles of bowling in the -following diagram. A good length ball, you see, -pitches nearer to the bat in proportion to the -slowness of its pace. Wisden is not so fast, nor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> -is Clarke as slow, practically, as they respectively -appear. With Wisden’s straight lines, it is far -easier to calculate where the ball will pitch, -than with the curved lines and dropping balls of -Clarke; and when Wisden’s ball has pitched, -though its pace is quicker, the distance it has to -come is so much longer, that Clarke, in effect, is -not so much slower, as he may appear. Lillywhite -and Hillyer are of a medium kind; having<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> -partly the quickness of Wisden’s pace, and partly -the advantage of Clarke’s curved lines and near -pitch. From this diagram it appears that the -slower the bowling the nearer it may be pitched, -and the less the space the bat can cover; also, the -more difficult is the ball to judge; for, the curved -line of a dropping ball is very deceiving to the -eye.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 461px;"> - -<img src="images/bowling-styles.jpg" width="461" height="500" alt="Diagram of these different bowling styles" /> - -<p class="caption">Slow Bail balls—Clarke’s.</p> - -<p class="caption">Fast Bail balls—Wisden’s.</p> - -<p class="caption">Medium pace—Lillywhite’s.</p> - -<p class="caption">Slow Shooters—Clarke’s.</p> - -<p class="caption">Medium pace Shooters—Lillywhite’s.</p> - -<p class="caption">Fast Shooters—Wisden’s.</p> - -</div> - -<p>In speaking of Clarke’s bowling, men commonly -imply that the slowness is its only difficulty. -Now a ball cannot be more difficult for hand or -eye because it moves slowly. No; the slower -the easier; but the difficulty arises from the following -qualities, wholly distinct from the pace, -though certainly it is the slowness that renders -those qualities possible:—</p> - -<p>1st. Clarke’s lengths are more accurate.</p> - -<p>2dly. He can vary his pace unobserved, without -varying his action or delivery.</p> - -<p>3dly. More of his balls would hit the wicket.</p> - -<p>4thly. A slow ball must be played: it will not -play itself.</p> - -<p>5thly. Clarke can more readily take advantage -of each man’s weak point.</p> - -<p>6thly. Slow bowling admits of more bias.</p> - -<p>7thly. The length is more difficult to judge, -owing to the curved lines.</p> - -<p>8thly. It requires the greatest accuracy in -hitting. You must play at the ball with short,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> -quick action where it actually is, and not by -calculation of its rise, or where it will be.</p> - -<p>9thly. Slow balls can be pitched nearer to the -bat, affording a shorter sight of the rise.</p> - -<p>10thly. Catches and chances of stumping are -more frequent, and less likely to be missed.</p> - -<p>11thly. The curved lines and the straightness -preclude cutting, and render it dangerous to cross -the ball in playing to leg.</p> - -<p>One artifice of Clarke, and of all good slow -bowlers, is this: to begin with a ball or two -which may easily be played back; then, with a -much higher toss and slower pace, as in the -diagram, he pitches a little short of the usual -spot. If the batsman’s eye is deceived as to the -distance, he at once plays forward to a length -which is at all times dangerous; and, as it rises -higher, the play becomes more dangerous still.</p> - -<p>The difficulty of “going in” to such bowling as -Clarke’s, depends on this:—</p> - -<p>The bat is only four inches and a quarter wide: -call half that width two inches of wood. Then, -you can only have two inches to spare for the -deviation of your hit; therefore, if a ball turns -about two inches, while you are in the act of -hitting, the truest hitter possible must miss.</p> - -<p>The obvious conclusion from these facts is,—</p> - -<p>1st. That you can safely go in to such balls -only as are straight, otherwise you cannot present<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> -a full bat; and, only when you can step right up -to the pitch of the ball, otherwise, by a twist it will -escape you; and slow balls turn more than fast in -a given space. 2ndly. You can only go in to such -lengths as you can easily and steadily command: -a very long step, or any unusual hurry, will -hardly be safe with only the said two inches of -wood to spare.</p> - -<p>Now the question is, with what lengths, against -such bowling as Clarke’s, can you step in steadily -and safely, both as far as the pitch, and with -full command of hand and eye? Remember, you -cannot begin your step till you have judged the -length; and this, with the curved line of a slow -dropping ball, you cannot judge till within a little -of its grounding; so, the critical time for decision -and action is very brief, and, in that brief space, -how far can you step secure of all optical illusions, -for, Clarke can deceive you by varying both the -pace and the curve of his ball?—Go and try. -Again, when you have stepped in, where will you -hit? On the ground, of course, and straight. -And where are the men placed? Besides, are you -aware of the difficulty of interchanging the steady -game with right foot in your ground, with that -springy and spasmodic impulse which characterises -this “going in?” At a match at Lord’s in 1849, -I saw Brockwell score some forty runs with many -hits off Clarke: he said to me, when he came out,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> -“Clarke cannot bowl his best to me; for, sometimes, -I go in to the pitch of the ball, when pitched -well up, and hit her away; at other times, I make -a feint, and then stand back, and so Clarke gets -off his bowling.” He added, “the difficulty is to -keep your temper and not to go in with a wrong -ball.” This, I believe, is indeed a difficulty,—a -much greater difficulty than is commonly imagined. -My advice to all players who have not made a -study of the art of going in, and have not fully -succeeded on practising days, is, by no means to -attempt it in a match. It is not so easy as it -appears. You will find Clarke, or any good slow -bowler, too much for you.—“But, supposing I -should stand out of my ground, or start before -the ball is out of the bowler’s hand?” Why, with -an unpractised bowler, especially if in the constrained -attitude of the overhand delivery, this -manœuvre has succeeded in producing threes and -fours in rapid succession. But Clarke would -pitch over your head, or send in a quick underhand -ball a little wide, and you would be stumped; -and Wisden would probably send a fast toss about -the height of your shoulder, and, being prepared -to play perfectly straight at the pitch, you would -hardly raise your bat in time to keep a swift toss -out of the wicket-keeper’s hands.</p> - -<p>The difficulty of curvilinear bowling is this:—</p> - -<p>1st. As in making a catch, every fieldsman finds<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> -that, in proportion as the ball has been hit up in -the air, it is difficult to judge where to place -himself: by the same law of sight, a fast ball -that goes almost point-blank to its pitch, is far -easier to judge than a slow ball that descends in a -curve.</p> - -<p>2ndly. As the slow ball reaches the ground at -a greater angle, it must rise higher in a given -space; so, if the batsman misjudges the pitch of a -slow ball by a foot, he will misjudge the rise to a -greater extent than with a fast ball, which rises less -abruptly. Hence, playing forward is less easy -with slow, than with fast, bowling.</p> - -<p>3dly. As to timing the ball, all the eye can -discern in a body moving directly towards it, is -the angle with the ground: to see the curve of -a dropping ball you must have a side view. The -man at Point can see the curve clearly; but not so -the batsman. Consequently, the effect of the -curve is left out in the calculation, and the exact -time of the ball’s approach is, to that extent, -mistaken. Every one knows the difficulty of -making a good half-volley-hit off a slow ball, -because the timing is so difficult: great speed -without a curve is less puzzling to the eye than a -curvilinear movement, however slow. It were -odd, indeed, if it were harder to hit a slow than a -fast ball. No. It is the curve that makes difficult -what of its pace alone would be easy. All<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> -forward play, with slow bowling, is beset with the -great difficulty of allowing for the curve. And -what style of play does this suggest? Why, -precisely what Clarke has himself remarked,—namely, -that to fix the right foot as for fast -bowling, and play with long reach forward, does -not answer. You must be quick on your feet, -and, by short quick action of the arms, hit the -ball actually as it is, and not as you calculate it -will be a second later. This is the system of -men who play Clarke best; of Mr. Vernon, of -Fuller Pilch, of Hunt of Sheffield, and of C. -Browne: though these men also dodge Clarke; -and, pretending sometimes to go out, deceive him -into dropping short, and so play their heads -against his. The best bowling is sometimes hit; -but I have not heard of any man who found it -much easier to score off Clarke than off other -good bowlers. To play Clarke “on any foregone -conclusion” is fatal. Every ball must be -judged by its respective merits and played accordingly.</p> - -<p>Again, as to cutting, or in any way crossing, -these dropping or curvilinear balls. As a slow -ball rises twice as much in a given space as a fast -ball, of course the chances are greater that the -bat will not cover the ball at the point at which, -by anticipation, you cut. If you cut at a fast -ball, the height of its rise is nearly uniform, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> -its course a straight line: so, most men like very -fast bowling, because, if the hand is quick enough, -the judgment is not easily deceived, for the ball -moves nearly in straight lines. But, in cutting -or in crossing a slow ball, the height of the rise -varies enough to produce a mistake while the bat -is descending on the ball.</p> - -<p>Once more, in playing at a ball after its rise, a -safe and forcible hit can only be made in two -ways. You must either meet the ball with full -and straight bat, or cut horizontally across it. -Now, as slow balls generally rise too high for a -hard hit with perpendicular bat, you are reduced -generally to the difficulties of cutting or back -play. Add to all this, that the bias from the hand -and from the inequalities of the ground is much -greater, and also that a catch, resulting from a feeble -hit and the ball spinning off the edge of the bat, -remains commonly so long in the air that every -fieldsman can cover double his usual quantity -of ground, and then we shall cease to wonder -that the best players cannot score fast off slow -bowling.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAP_IX">CHAP. IX.<br /> -<span class="smaller">BOWLING.—AN HOUR WITH “OLD CLARKE.”</span></h2> - -<p>In cricket wisdom Clarke is truly “Old:” what -he has learnt from anybody, he learnt from Lambert. -But he is a man who thinks for himself, -and knows men and manners, and has many wily -devices, “<i>splendidè mendax</i>.” “I beg your pardon, -sir,” he one day said to a gentleman taking -guard, “but ain’t you Harrow?”—“Then we -shan’t want a man down there,” he said, addressing -a fieldsman; “stand for the ‘Harrow drive,’ -between point and middle wicket.”</p> - -<p>The time to see Clarke is on the morning of a -match. While others are practising, he walks -round with his hands under the flaps of his coat, -reconnoitring his adversaries’ wicket.</p> - -<p>“Before you bowl to a man, it is worth something -to know what is running in his head. -That gentleman,” he will say, “is too fast on his -feet, so, as good as ready money to me: if he -doesn’t hit he can’t score; if he does I shall have -him directly.”</p> - -<p>Going a little further, he sees a man lobbing to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> -another, who is practising stepping in. “There, -sir, is ‘practising to play Clarke,’ that is very -plain; and a nice mess, you will see, he will make -of it. Ah! my friend, if you do go in at all, you -must go in further than that, or my twist will -beat you; and, going in to swipe round, eh! -Learn to run me down with a straight bat, and I -will say something to you. But that wouldn’t -score quite fast enough for your notions. Going -in to hit round is a tempting of Providence.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p> - -<p>“There, that man is purely stupid: alter the -pace and height with a dropping ball, and I shall -have no trouble with him. They think, sir, it is -nothing but ‘Clarke’s vexatious pace:’ they know -nothing about the curves. With fast bowling, -you cannot have half my variety; and when you -have found out the weak point, where’s the fast -bowler that can give the exact ball to hit it? -There is often no more head-work in fast bowling -than there is in the catapult: without head-work -I should be hit out of the field.”</p> - -<p>“A man is never more taken aback than when -he prepares for one ball, and I bowl him the contrary -one: there was Mr. Nameless, the first time -he came to Nottingham, full of fancies about -playing me. The first ball, he walked some yards -out to meet me, and I pitched over his head, so -near his wicket, that, thought I, that bird won’t -fight again. Next ball, he was a little cunning, -and made a feint of coming out, meaning, as I -guessed, to stand back for a long hop; so I -pitched right up to him; and he was so bent -upon cutting me away, that he hit his own wicket -down!”</p> - -<p>Look at diagrams <a href="#Page_179">page 179.</a> Clarke is there -represented as bowling two balls of different -lengths; but the increased height of the shorter -pitched ball, by a natural ocular delusion, makes -it appear as far pitched as the other. If the batsman -is deceived in playing at both balls by the -same forward play, he endangers his wicket. -“See, there,” continues Clarke, “that gentleman’s -<i>is</i> a dodge certainly, but not a new one -either. He does step in, it is true; but while -hitting at the ball, he is so anxious about getting -back again, that his position has all the danger of -stepping in, and none of its advantages.”</p> - -<p>“Then there is Mr. ——,” naming a <i>great</i> -man struggling with adversity. “He gives a -jump up off his feet, and thinks he is stepping -in, but comes flump down just where he was -before.”</p> - -<p>“Pilch plays me better than any one. But he -knows better than to step in to every ball, or to -stand fast every ball. He plays steadily, and discriminates, -waiting till I give him a chance, and -then makes the most of it.”</p> - -<p>Bowling consists of two parts: there is the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> -mechanical part, and the intellectual part. First, -you want the hand to pitch where you please, and -then the head to know where to pitch, according -to the player.</p> - -<p>To <span class="smcap">learn the Art of Bowling</span>.—1. First, -consult with some Lillywhite or Wisden, and fix -on one, and one only, plan of holding the ball, -manageable pace, and general style of delivery. -Consult and experiment till you have chosen the -style that suits the play of your muscles and your -strength. If you choose a violent and laborious -style, you will certainly become tired of it: but a -style within your strength will be so delightful -that you will be always practising. Secondly, -having definitely chosen one form and style of -bowling, the next thing is to fix it and form it -into a habit: for, on the law of Habit a bowler’s -accuracy entirely depends.</p> - -<p>To form a steady habit of bowling, the nerves -and muscles being a very delicate machinery, you -must be careful to use them in one way, and one -way only; for then they will come to serve you -truly and mechanically: but, even a few hours -spent in loose play—in bowling with few steps -or many, or with a new mode of delivery—will -often establish conflicting habits, or call into -action a new set of muscles, to interfere with -the muscles on which you mainly depend. Many -good players (including the most destructive of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> -Gentleman’s Eleven!) have lost their bowling by -these experiments: many more have been thrown -back when near perfection. Therefore,</p> - -<p>2. Never bowl a single ball but in your chosen -and adopted form and style—with the same steps, -and with the ball held in the same way. “If -these seem small things, habit is not a small -thing.” Also, never go on when you are too tired -to command your muscles; else, you will be twisting -yourself out of form, and calling new and -conflicting muscles into action.</p> - -<p>As to Pace, if your strength and stature is little, -your pace cannot be fast. Be contented with -being rather a slow bowler. By commencing -slowly, if any pace is in you, it will not be lost; -but by commencing fast, you will spoil all.</p> - -<p>3. Let your carriage be upright though easy; -and start composedly from a state of perfect rest. -Let your steps, especially the last, be short; and, -for firm foothold, and to avoid shaking yourself -or cutting up the ground, learn to descend not on -the heel but more on the toe and flat of the foot, -and so as to have both feet in the line of the -opposite wicket. For,</p> - -<p>4. A golden rule for straight bowling is to -present, at delivery, a full face to the opposite -wicket; the shoulders being in the same line, or -parallel with, the crease. That is the moment to -quit the ball—a moment sooner and you will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> -bowl wide to the leg, a moment later and you -will bowl wide to the Off. Observe Wisden and -Hillyer. They deliver just as their front is square -with the opposite wicket. They look well at -their mark, and bowl before they have swung too -far round for the line of sight to be out of the -line of the wicket. Observe, also, bad bowlers, and -you will see a uniformity in their deviation: some -bowl regularly too much to the On; others as -regularly to the Off. Then, watch their shoulders; -and you will recognise a corresponding error in -their delivery. The wonder is that such men -should ever bowl straight.</p> - -<p>Also, adopt a run of from five to seven yards. -Let your run be quite straight; not from side to -side, still less crossing your legs as you run.</p> - -<p>5. “Practise,” says Lillywhite, “both sides of -the wicket. To be able to change sides, is highly -useful when the ground is worn, and it often -proves puzzling to the batsman.”</p> - -<p>6. Hold the ball in the fingers, not in the -palm, and always the same way. If the tips of -the fingers touch the seam of the ball, it will -assist in the spin. The little finger “guides” the -ball in the delivery.</p> - -<p>7. The essence of a good delivery is to send -the ball forth rotating, or turning on its own axis. -The more spin you give the ball, the better the -delivery; because then the ball will twist, rise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> -quickly, or cut variously, the instant it touches -the ground.</p> - -<p>8. This spin must not proceed from any conscious -action of the fingers, but from some mechanical -action of the arm and wrist. Clarke is -not conscious of any attempt to make his ball -spin or twist: a certain action has become habitual -to him. He may endeavour to increase this tendency -sometimes; but no bowling could be uniform -that depended so much on the nerves, or on -such nice feeling as this attention to the fingers -would involve. A bowler must acquire a certain -mechanical swing, with measured steps and uniform -action and carriage of the body, till at -length, as with a gun, hand and eye naturally -go together. In rowing, if you look at your oar, -you cut crabs. In skating, if you look at the ice -and think of your steps, you lose the freedom and -the flow of your circles. So, with bowling, having -decided on your steps and one mode of delivery, -you must practise this alone, and think more of -the wicket than of your feet or your hand.</p> - -<p>To assist the spin of the ball, a good bowler will -not stop short, but will rather follow the ball, or, -give way to it, after delivery, for one or two -steps. Some bowlers even continue the twisting -action of the hand after the ball has left it.</p> - -<p>9. Commence with a very low delivery. Cobbett, -and others of the best bowlers, began underhand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> -The lower the hand, the more the spin, -and the quicker the rise. Unfair or throwing -bowlers never have a first-rate delivery. See -how easy to play is a throw, or a ball from a -catapult; and simply because the ball has then no -spin. Redgate showed how bowling may be most -fair and most effective. No man ever took Pilch’s -wicket so often. His delivery was easy and -natural; he had a thorough command of his arm, -and gave great spin to the ball. In Kent against -England, at Town Malling, he bowled the finest -Over on record. The first ball just grazed Pilch’s -wicket; the second took his bails; the third ball -levelled Mynn, and the fourth Stearman; three -of the best bats of the day.</p> - -<p>10. Practise a little and often. If you over-fatigue -the muscles, you spoil their tone for a -time. Bowling, as we said of batting, must -become a matter of habit; and habits are formed -by frequent repetition. Let the bowlers of Eton, -Harrow, and Winchester resolve to bowl, if it be -but a dozen balls, every day, wet or fine. Intermission -is very prejudicial.</p> - -<p>11. The difficulty is to pitch far enough. Commence, -according to your strength, eighteen or -nineteen yards, and increase to twenty-two by -degrees. Most amateurs bowl long hops.</p> - -<p>12. Seek accuracy more than speed: a man of -fourteen stone is not to be imitated by a youth of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> -eight stone. Many batsmen like swift bowling, -and why? Because the length is easier to judge; -the lines are straighter for a cut; the ball wants -little accuracy of hitting; fast bowlers very rarely -pitch quite as far even as they might, for this -requires much extra power; fast balls twist less -in a given space than slow balls, and rarely increase -their speed at the rise in the same proportion -as slow balls; fast bowling gives fewer -chances that the fieldsman can take advantage of, -and admits generally of less variety; fewer fast -balls are pitched straight, and fewer even of those -would hit the wicket. You may find a Redgate, -a Wisden, or a Mynn, who can bring fast bowling -under command for one or two seasons; but -these are exceptions too solitary to afford a precedent. -Even these men were naturally of a fast -pace: swiftness was not their chief object. So, -study accurate bowling, and let speed come of -itself.</p> - -<p>So much for attaining the power of a bowler; -next to apply it. Not only practise, but <i>study</i> -bowling: to pelt away mechanically, with the same -lengths and same pace, is excusable in a catapult, -but not in a man.—Can your adversary guard -leg-stump or off-stump? Can he judge a length? -Can he allow for a curve? Can he play well -over an off-ball to prevent a catch? Can you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> -deceive him with time or pace? Is he a young -gentleman, or an old gentleman?—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“<i>Ætatis cujusque notandi sunt tibi mores.</i>”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>1. Pitch as near the bat as you can without -being hit away. The bowler’s chance is to compel -back play with the shortest possible sight of the -rise.</p> - -<p>2. If three good balls have been stopped, the -fourth is often destructive, because the batsman’s -patience is exhausted: so take pains with the -fourth ball of the Over.</p> - -<p>3. The straighter the ball, the more puzzling to -the eye, and the more cramping to the hand of the -batsman.</p> - -<p>4. Short-pitched balls are not only easier to -hit, but have more scope for missing the wicket, -though pitched straight.</p> - -<p>5. A free leg-hitter may often be put out by -placing an extra man On side, and bowling -repeatedly at leg-stump—only do not pitch very -far up to him. Short-pitched leg-balls are the -most difficult to hit, and produce most catches. -By four or five attempts at leg-hitting, a man -gains a tendency to swing round, and is off his -straight play.</p> - -<p>6. Besides trying every variety of length, vary -your pace to deceive the batsman in timing his -play; and practise the same action so as not to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> -betray the change of pace. Also, try once or -twice a high dropping ball.</p> - -<p>7. Learn to bowl tosses and tices. With a -stiff player, before his eye is in, a toss often succeeds; -but especially practise high lobs—a most -useful variety of ball. In most Elevens there are -one or two men with whom good roundhand -bowling is almost thrown away. A first-rate -player in Warwickshire was found at fault with -lobs: and till he learnt the secret, all his fine play -was at an end.</p> - -<p>8. Find out the farthest point to which your -man can play forward safely, and pitch just short -of that point with every variety of pace and -dropping balls. Lillywhite’s delight is by pitching -alternately just within and just out of the -batsman’s reach, “<i>to catch him in two minds</i>.” -Here we have positive metaphysics! Just such -a wary antagonist as Lillywhite is described by -Virgil,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“Ille, velut celsam oppugnat qui molibus urbem,</div> -<div class="verse">Nunc hos, nunc illos aditus, omnemque pererrat</div> -<div class="verse">Arte locum; et variis adsultibus irritus urget.”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">Of course <i>aditus</i> means an unguarded stump, and -<i>locum</i> where to pitch the ball.</p> - -<p>9. A good underhand ball of two high curves—that -is, a dropping ball rising high—with a -twist in to leg-stump, and a third man to On side,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> -is very effective, producing both catch and stumping. -This is well worth trying, with four men -on the On side, even if some great player is -brought to win a country match.</p> - -<p>10. Most men have a length they cannot play. -The fault of young bowlers is, they do not pitch -far enough: they thus afford too long a sight of the -ball. In the School matches and the University -matches at Lord’s, this is very observable, especially -with fast bowlers.</p> - -<p>11. The old-fashioned underhand lobbing, if -governed by a good head—dropping short when -a man is coming out, and sometimes tossed higher -and sometimes lower,—is a valuable change in -most Elevens; but it must be high and accurately -pitched, and must have head-work in it. Put -long-stop upon the On side, and bring long-slip -nearer in; and be sure that your long-fields stand -far away.</p> - -<p>12. Lastly, the last diagram explains that curvilinear -bowling (the effect of a moderate pace -with a spin) gives the batsman a shorter sight of -the rise than is possible with the straighter lines -of swift bowling. A man has nearly as much -time to make up his mind and prepare for Wisden -as for Clarke; because, he can judge Wisden’s -ball much sooner, and, though the rise is faster, -the ball has farther to come in.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Theory of Bowling</span>.—What characterises<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> -a good delivery? If two men bowl with equal -force and precision, why does the ball come in -from the pitch so differently in respect of cutting, -twisting, or abrupt rise?</p> - -<p>“Because one man gives the ball so much more -rotatory motion on its own axis, or, so much more -spin than the other.”</p> - -<p>A throw, or the catapult which strikes the ball -from its rest, gives no spin; hence, the ball is -regular in its rise, and easy to calculate.</p> - -<p>Cobbett gave a ball as much spin as possible: -his fingers appeared wrapped round the ball: his -wrist became horizontal: his hand thrown back -at the delivery, and his fingers seemingly unglued -joint by joint, till the ball quitted the tips -of them last, just as you would spin a top. Cobbett’s -delivery designed a spin, and the ball at -the pitch had new life in it. No bowling so fair, -and with so little rough play or violence, ever -proved more effective than Cobbett’s. Hillyer is -entitled to the same kind of praise.</p> - -<p>A spin is given by the fingers; also, by turning -the hand over in delivering the ball.</p> - -<p>A good ball has two motions; one, straight, -from hand to pitch; the other, on its own axis.</p> - -<p>The effect of a spin on its own axis is best -exemplified by bowling a child’s hoop. Throw -it from you without any spin, and away it rolls; -but spin or revolve it against the line of its flight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> -with great power, and the hoop no sooner touches -the ground than it comes back to you. So great -a degree of spin as this cannot possibly be given -to a cricket ball; but you see the same effect in -the “draw-back stroke” at billiards. Revolve -the hoop with less power, and it will rise abruptly -from the ground and then continue its course—similar -to that awkward and abrupt rise often -seen in the bowling of Clarke among others.</p> - -<p>Thirdly, revolve the hoop as you bowl it, not -<i>against</i> but <i>in</i> the line of its flight, and you will -have its tendency to bound expended in an increased -quickness forward. This exemplifies a low -swimming ball, quickly cutting in and sometimes -making a shooter. This is similar to the “following -stroke” at billiards, made by striking the -ball high and rotating it in the line of the stroke.</p> - -<p>Such are the effects of a ball spinning or rotating -vertically.</p> - -<p>Now try the effect of a spin from right to left, or -left to right: try a side stroke at billiards; the -apparent angle of reflection is not equal to the -angle of incidence. So a cricket ball, with lateral -spin, will work from Leg to Off, or Off to Leg, -according to the spin.</p> - -<p>But why does not the same delivery, as it gives -the same kind of spin, always produce the same -vertical or lateral effect on a ball? In other -words, how do you account for the fact that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> -(apart from roughness of ground) the same delivery -produces sometimes a contrary twist? -“Because the ball may turn in the air, and the -vertical spin become lateral. The side which on -delivery was under, may, at the pitch, be the -upper side, or the upper side may become under, -or any modification of either may be produced in -conjunction with inequality in the ground.”</p> - -<p>With throwing bowling, the ball comes from -the ends of the fingers; why, then, does it not -spin? Because, unlike Cobbett’s delivery, as explained, -wherein the ball left the fingers by -degrees, and was sent spinning forth, the ball, in -a throw, is held between fingers and thumb, -which leave their hold at the same instant, without -any tendency to rotate the ball. The fairer -and more horizontal the delivery the more the -fingers act, the more spin, and the more variety, -after the pitch. A high and unfair delivery, it -is true, is difficult from the height of the rise; -otherwise it is too regular and too easy to calculate, -to make first-rate bowling.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A little learning is a dangerous thing</span>—and -not least at cricket. The only piece of -science I ever hear on a cricket field is this: -“Sir, how can that be? The angle of reflection -must always be equal to the angle of incidence.”</p> - -<p>That a cricketer should have only one bit of -science, and that, as he applies it, a blunder, is -indeed a pity.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> - -<p>I have already shown that, in bowling, the -<i>apparent</i> angle of reflection is rendered unequal -to the angle of incidence by the rotatory motion -or spin of the ball, and also by the roughness of -the ground.</p> - -<p>I have now to explain that this law is equally -disturbed in batting also; and by attention to the -following observations, many a forward player -may learn so to adapt his force to the inclination -of his bat as not to be caught out, even although -(as often happens to a man’s great surprise) he -plays over the ball!</p> - -<p>The effect of a moving body meeting another -body moving, and that same body quiescent, is -very different. To prove this,</p> - -<p>Fix a bat <i>immoveably</i> perpendicular in the -ground, and suppose a ball rises to it from the -ground in an angle of 45° as the angle of -incidence; then supposing the ball to have no -rotatory motion, it will be reflected at an equal -angle, and fall nearly under the bat.</p> - -<p>But supposing the bat is not fixed, but brought -forcibly forward to meet that ball, then, according -to the weight and force of the bat, the natural -direction of the ball will be annihilated, and the -ball will be returned, perhaps nearly point blank, -not in the line of reflection, but in some other line -more nearly resembling the line in which the bat -is moved.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> - -<p>If the bat were at rest, or only played very -gently forward, the angles of reflection would not -be materially disturbed, but the ball would return -to the ground in proportion nearly as it rose from -it; but by playing very hard forward, the batsman -annihilates the natural downward tendency -of the ball, and drives it forward, perhaps, into -the bowler’s hands; and then, fancying the laws -of gravitation have been suspended to spite him, -he walks back disgusted to the pavilion, and says, -“No man in England could help being out then. -I was as clean over the ball as I could be, and yet -it went away as a catch!”</p> - -<p>Lastly, as to “being out by luck,” always consider -whether, with the same adversaries, Pilch or -Parr would have been so put out. Our opinion -is, that could you combine the experience and -science of Pilch with the hand and eye of Parr, -luck would be reduced to an infinitesimal quantity.</p> - -<p><i>Fortuna fortes adjuvat</i>, men of the best nerve -have the best luck; and <i>nullum numen habes si sit -prudentia</i>, when a man knows as much of the game -as we would teach him, he will find there is very -little luck after all. Young players should not -think about being out by chance: there is a certain -intuitive adaptation of play to circumstances, -which, however seemingly impossible, will result -from observation and experience, unless the idea -of chance closes the ears to all good instruction.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAP_X">CHAP. X.<br /> -<span class="smaller">HINTS ON FIELDING.</span></h2> - -<p>The essence of good fielding is, to start before -the ball is hit, and to pick up and return straight -to the top of the bails, by one continuous action. -This was the old Wykehamist style—old, I hope -not yet extinct, past revival—(thus had we -written, March 1851, and three months after the -Wykehamists won both their school matches at -Lord’s);—for, some twenty years since, the Wykehamist -fielding was unrivalled by any school in -England. Fifteen years ago Mr. Ward and, -severally and separately, Cobbett instanced a -Winchester Eleven as the first fielding they had -ever seen at Lord’s. And among this chosen -number were the yet remembered names of B. -Price, F. B. Wright, Knatchbull, and Meyrick. -These hardy Trojans—for the ball never came -too fast for them—commenced fagging out long, -very long, before they were indulged in batting, -and were forced to qualify, even for fagging, by -practising till they could throw over a certain -neighbouring barn, and were always in bodily fear -of the pains and penalties of the middle stump if -ever they missed a ball. But these days of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> -voluntary system are far less favourable for fielding. -To become a good fieldsman requires persevering -practice, with a “big fellow” to fag for who -will expect a little more smartness than is always -developed by pure love of the game.</p> - -<p>And now, Etonians, Harrovians, Wykehamists, -I mention you alphabetically, a few words on -training your Eleven for Lord’s. Choose first -your bowlers and wicket-keeper and long-stop; -these men you must have, though not worth a -run: then if you have any batsmen decidedly -superior, you may choose them for their batting, -though they happen not to be first-rate fieldsmen. -But in most school Elevens, after naming four or -five men, among the other six or seven, it is mere -chance who scores; so let any great superiority in -fielding decide the choice. I remember playing a -match in which I had difficulty in carrying the -election of a first-rate fieldsman against a second-rate -bat. Now, the said batsman could not certainly -be worth above fourteen runs; say seven -more than the fieldsman. But the fieldsman, as -it happened, made a most difficult catch, put one -runner out, and, above all, kept the bowlers in -good heart, during an uphill game, by stopping -many hard hits. A bad fieldsman is a loose screw -in your machinery; giving confidence to the adversary, -and taking the spirit out of his own -party. Therefore, let the captain of an Eleven<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> -proclaim that men must qualify by fine fielding: -and let him encourage the following exercises:—</p> - -<p>Put in two batsmen, whose play is not good -enough to spoil, to tip and run. You will then -find what very clean fielding is required to save -one run, with men determined to try it.</p> - -<p>Let every man practise long-stop.</p> - -<p>Long-leg is a fieldsman nearly as essential as a -good long-stop. A man who can run and throw -well should make a long-leg his forte, and practise -judging distances for a long catch, covering -ground both to right and left, neat handling, with -allowance for the twist, and especially an arrow-like -and accurate return. No thing is so likely to -put the runner out as a swift throw to the hands -from a long distance. Aspire to foil the usual -calculation, that, at a long distance, the runner -can beat the throw.</p> - -<p>Let the wicket-keeper take his place, and while -some one throws or hits, let him require the -quickest and most accurate throwing. A ball -properly thrown comes in like an arrow—no time -being lost by soaring high in air. At short distances, -throw at once to the hands; where unavoidable, -with a long hop. But this hop should -result from a low and skimming throw; or, the ball -will lose its speed. Practise throwing, without -any flourish, by a single action of the arm. Any -good fieldsman will explain, far better than our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> -pen, the art of picking up a ball in the only position -consistent with a quick return. A good -throw often runs a man out; an advantage very -rarely gained without something superior in -fielding. Young players should practise throwing, -and remember never to throw in a long hop when -they can throw to the hands. “Many a ‘run -out,’” says Mr. R. T. King, “has been lost by -that injudicious practice of throwing long hops to -the wicket-keeper, instead of straight, and, when -necessary, hard, to his hands;” a practice that -should be utterly reprobated, especially as many -rising players will fancy it is the most correct, -instead of the slowest, style of throwing. To -throw in a long hop is only allowable when you -might fail to throw a catch, and, which is worst -of all, make too short a hop to the wicket-keeper. -The Captain should keep an account of -the best runners, throwers, clean pickers-up, and -especially of men who can meet and anticipate the -ball, and of those who deserve the praise given -to Chatterton—“the safest pair of hands in -England.”</p> - -<p>So much for quick throwing; but for a throw -up from long-field, Virgil had a good notion of -picking up and sending in a ball:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“Ille manu raptum trepidâ torquebat in hostem;</div> -<div class="verse">Altior assurgens, et cursu concitus, heros.”</div> -<div class="verse right"><i>Æn.</i> xii. 901.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p> - -<p>Here we have snatching up the ball with a -quiver of the wrist, rising with the effort, and a -quick step or two to gain power.—Meeting the -ball requires a practice of its own, and is a charming -operation when you can do it; for the same -impetus with which you run in assists the quickness -of your return. Practice will reveal the -secret of running in; only, run with your hands -near the ground, so as not to have suddenly to -stoop; and, keep your eyes well open, not losing -the ball for an instant. In fielding, as in batting, -you must study all the varieties of balls, whether -tices, half-volleys, or other lengths.</p> - -<p>A fast runner <i>nascitur non fit</i>: still, practice -does much, and especially for all the purposes of -a fieldsman near the wicket. A spring and quick -start are things to learn; and that, both right and -left: few men spring equally well with both feet. -Anticipating the ball, and getting the momentum -on the proper side, is everything in fielding; and -practice will enable a man to get his proper -footing and quick shifting step. A good cricketer, -like a good skater, must have free use of both -feet: and of course a fine fieldsman must catch -with both hands.</p> - -<p>Practise left-handed catching in a ring; also -picking up with left: “Any one can catch with -his right,” says the old player; “now, my boy, -let us see what you can do with your left.” Try,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> -also, “slobbering” a ball, to see how many arts -there are of recovering it afterwards. I need -hardly say that jumping off your feet for a high -catch, and rushing in to a ball and patting it up -in the air and catching it the second attempt, are -all arts of first-rate practitioners.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Safe Hands.</span>—Your hands should be on the -rat-trap principle,—taking anything in, and -letting nothing out again. Of course a ball has -a peculiar feeling and spin off a bat quite different -from a throw; so practise accordingly. By habit -hand and eye will go together: what the eye sees -the right part of the hand will touch by a natural -adjustment. There is a way of allowing for the -spin of the ball in the air: as to its tendency at -Cover, to twist especially to the left, this is too -obvious to require notice.</p> - -<p>I am ashamed to be obliged to remind players, -old as well as young, that there is such a thing as -being a good judge of a short run: and I might -hold up, as an example, an <i>Honourable</i> gentleman, -who, though a first-rate long-stop and fine style -of batting, has a distinct reputation for the one -run. It is a tale, perhaps, thrice told, but more -than thrice forgotten, that the partner should -follow up the ball; how many batsmen destroy the -very life of the game by standing still like an -extra umpire. Now, in a school Eleven, running -notches can be practised with security, because<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> -with mutual dependence; though I would warn -good players that, among strangers in a country -match, sharp running is a dangerous game.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Symptoms of a Loser of Runs.</span>—He never -follows up the ball, but leans on his bat, or stands -sociably by the umpire; he has 20 yards to run -from a state of rest, instead of 16, already on the -move; he is addicted to checks and false starts; -he destroys the confidence of his partner’s running; -he condemns his partner to play his worst, because -in a state of disgust; he never runs and turns, but -runs and stops, or shoots past his wicket, making -ones for twos, and twos for threes; he often runs -a man out, and, besides this loss, depresses his -own side, and animates the other; he makes slow -fieldsmen as good as fast; having no idea of stealing -a run for the least miss, he lets the fieldsmen -stand where they please, saving both the two and -the one; he lets the bowler coolly experiment -with the wicket, when one run breaks the dangerous -series, and destroys his confidence; he -spares the bowler that disturbance of his nerves -which results from stolen runs and suspicion of -his fieldsmen; he continues the depressing influence -of maiden Overs, when a Single would -dispel the charm; he deserves the name of the -“<i>Green</i> man and <i>Still</i>,” and usually commences -his innings by saying, “Pray don’t run me out, -Sir,”—“We’ll run no risks whatever.” When -there is a long hit, the same man will tear away<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> -like mad, forgetting that both he and his partner -(a heavier man perhaps) want a little wind left for -the next ball.—<i>O Ignavum pecus!</i> so-called -“steady” players. Steady, indeed! You stand -like posts, without the least intuition of a run. -The true cricketer runs while another is thinking -of it; indeed, he does not think—he sees and feels -it is a run. He descries when the fieldsman has a -long reach with his left hand, or when he must -overbalance and right himself, or turn before he -can throw. He watches hopefully the end of a -long throw, or a ball backed carelessly up.—Bear -witness, bowlers, to the virtue of a single run -made sharply and vexatiously. Just as your plot -is ripe, the batsmen change, and an ordinary -length supersedes the very ball that would have -beguiled your man. Is it nothing to break in -upon the complete Over to the same man? And, -how few the bowlers who repeat the length from -which a run is made! To repeat, passionless -as the catapult, a likely length, hit or not hit, here -it is the professional beats the amateur.—“These -indirect influences of making each possible run,” -says Mr. R. T. King,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> “are too little considered. -Once I saw, to my full conviction, the whole -fortune of a game changed by simply effecting -two single runs; one, while a man was threatening -to throw, instead of throwing, in the ball; the -other, while a ball was dribbling in from about -middle wicket. This one run ended thirteen -maiden Overs, set the bowlers blaming the fieldsmen -at the expense, as usual, of their equanimity -and precision, and proved the turning-point in a -match till then dead against us. Calculate the -effect of ‘stolen runs’ on the powers of a bowler -and his tactics as against a batsman, on the places -of the fieldsmen, on their insecurity when hurried, -and the spirit it puts into the one party and takes -away from the other; and add to this the runs -evidently lost; and, I am confident that the same -Eleven that go out for sixty would, with better -running, generally make seventy-five, and not uncommonly -a hundred.”</p> - -<p>Attend, therefore, to the following rules:—1. -Back up every ball as soon as actually delivered, -and as far as consistent with safe return. 2. -When both men can see the ball, as before -wicket, let the decision depend on the batsman, -as less prepared to start, or on the elder and -heavier man, by special agreement; and let the -decision be the partner’s when the ball is behind -the hitter. 3. Let men run by some call: -mere beckoning with strangers leads to fatal -errors, backing up being mistaken for “run.” -“Yes,” “no,” or “run,” “stop,” are the words. -“Away” sounds like “stay.” 4. Let the hitter -also remember that he can often back up a few -yards in anticipation of a ball passing the fieldsman.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> -5. Let the first run be made quickly when -there is the least chance of a second. 6. Let -the ball be watched and followed up, as for a -run, on the chance of a miss from wicket-keeper -or fieldsmen. So, never over-run your ground. -7. Always run with judgment and attention, -never beyond your strength: good running between -wickets does not mean running out of -wind, to the suffusion of the eye and the trembling -of the hand, though a good batsman must train -for good wind. Henry Davis of Leicester was -fine as ever in practice, when too heavy to run, -and therefore to bat, in a game. The reason of -running out and losing runs is, generally, the -want of an established rule as to who decides the -run. How rarely do we see a man run out but -from hesitation! How often does a man lose his -chance of safety by stopping to judge what is his -partner’s ball! Let cricketers observe some rule -for judging the run. There will then be no -doubt who is to blame,—though, to censure the -batsman because his partner is run out, when that -partner is not backing up, is too bad. Let the -man who has to decide bear all the responsibility -if his partner is out; only, let prompt obedience -be the rule. When a man feels he must run -because called, he will take more pains to be -ready; and, when once it is plain that a batsman -has erred in judgment and lost one wicket of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> -eleven, he will, if worth anything, make a study -of running, and avoid so unpleasant a reflection -for the future. Fancy such a <i>mem.</i> as this:—“Pilch -run out because Rash hesitated,” or “Rash -run out because when the hitter called he was -not backing up.”</p> - -<p>These and many other ideas on this most essential, -yet most neglected, part of the game, I shall -endeavour to illustrate by the following computation -of runs which might have been added to an -innings of 100.</p> - -<p>Suppose, therefore, 100 runs scored; 90 by -hits, 4 by wide balls, and 6 by byes and leg -byes—the loss is commonly as follows:—</p> - -<table summary="Scores"> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">1.</td><td>Singles lost from hits</td><td class="tdbottom">about</td><td class="tdbottom tdr">10</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">2.</td><td>Ones instead of twos, by not making the -former run quickly and turning for a second, -but over-running ground and stopping</td><td class="tdditto">”</td><td class="tdbottom tdr">4</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">3.</td><td>Runs that might have been stolen from balls -dropped and slovenly handled</td><td class="tdditto">”</td><td class="tdbottom tdr">3</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">4.</td><td>Loss from fieldsmen standing where they -please, and covering more ground than they -dare do with sharp runners</td><td class="tdditto">”</td><td class="tdbottom tdr">5</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">5.</td><td>Loss from not having those misses which result -from hurrying the field</td><td class="tdditto">”</td><td class="tdbottom tdr">4</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">6.</td><td>Loss from bowlers not being ruffled, as they -would be if feeling the runs should be -stopped</td><td class="tdditto">”</td><td class="tdbottom tdr">7</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">7.</td><td>Extra loss from byes not run (with the least -“slobbering” the runners may cross—though -Dean is cunning)</td><td class="tdditto">”</td><td class="tdbottom tdr">6<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">8.</td><td>From having draws and slips stopped, which -long-stop could not stop if nearer in</td><td class="tdditto">”</td><td class="tdbottom tdr">5</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">9.</td><td>One man run out</td><td class="tdditto">”</td><td class="tdbottom tdr">8</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">10.</td><td>Depressing influence of the same</td><td class="tdditto">”</td><td class="tdbottom tdr">?</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">11.</td><td>From not having the only long-stop disgusted -and hurried into missing everything</td><td class="tdditto">”</td><td class="tdbottom tdr">?</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">12.</td><td>From not having the adversary all wild by -these combined annoyances</td><td class="tdditto">”</td><td class="tdbottom tdr">?</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td></td><td class="tdi1">Total</td><td class="tdditto">”</td><td class="tdr tdtotal tdbottom">52</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">13.</td><td>Loss from adversary playing better when -going in against a score of 100 than against -152</td><td class="tdditto">”</td><td class="tdbottom tdr">?</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p>Now, though I have put down nothing for four -sources of loss, not the less material because hard -to calculate, the difference between good runners -and bad seems to be above half the score. That -many will believe me I can hardly expect; but, -before they contradict, let them watch and reckon -for themselves, where fielding is not first-rate.</p> - -<p>It was only after writing as above that I read -that in “North <i>v.</i> South,” 1851, the North lost -six wickets, and the South two, by running out! -In the first Gentlemen and Players’ match, of -the same year, it was computed that one man, -who made a long score, actually lost as many runs -as he made! In choosing an eleven, such men -should be marked, and the loser of runs avoided -on the same principle as a bad fieldsman. Reckon -not only the runs a man may make, but the runs -he may lose, and how the game turns about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> -sometimes by a man being run out. A perfect -cricketer, like a perfect whist-player, must qualify -his scientific rules, and make the best of a bad -partner—but, how few are perfect, especially in -this point! Talk not alone of good batsmen, I -have often said.—Choose me some thorough-bred -public-school cricketers; for, “the only men,” says -Clarke, “I ever see judges of a run, are those -who have played cricket as boys with sixpenny -bats, used to distances first shorter, then longer as -they grew stronger, and learnt, not from being -bowled to by the hour, but by years of practice -in real games. You blame me because the All -England Eleven don’t learn not to run out, though -always practising together. Why, a run is a -thing not learnt in a day. There’s that gentleman -yonder—with all his fine hitting he is no -cricketer; he can’t run; he learnt at a catapult, -and how can a catapult teach a man the game?”</p> - -<p>Great men have the same ideas, or Clarke -would seem to have borrowed from Horace</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“Qui studet optatam cursu contingere metam</div> -<div class="verse">Multa tulit fecitque puer, sudavit et alsit.”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>A good innings disdains a sleeping partner. Be -alive and moving; and—instead of saying, “Well -played!” “Famous hit!” &c.; or, as we sometimes -hear in the way of encouragement, “How -near!” “What a close shave!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> “Pray, take care, -Smith!”—think of the runs, and say “run” or -“stop” as the case may be. Thus, you may avoid -the ludicrous scene of two big men rushing from -their wickets, pausing, turning back, starting again, -and having a small talk together at the eleventh -yard, and finding, one or the other, a prostrate -wicket, while apologies and recrimination are the -only solace.</p> - -<p>Old players need keep up a habit of throwing -and of active movements. For, the redundant spirit -and buoyancy of youthful activity soon evaporates. -Many a zealous cricketer loses his once-famed -quickness from mere disuse—<i>Sic omnia fatis, in -pejus ruere</i>. Instead of always batting, and practising -poor Hillyer and Wisden till their dodges -are dodges no more, and it is little credit to score -from them, go to your neighbour’s wicket and -practise fielding for an hour, or else, next match, -you may find your throwing at fault.</p> - -<p>Fielding, I fear, is retrograding: a good general -player, famed for that quick return which runs the -adversary out, one who is, at the same time, a -useful change in bowling, a safe judge of a run, -and respectable at every point of the game—this -is becoming a scarce character, and Batting is a -word supposed coextensive with Cricket,—a sad -mistake.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Spare the bowler.</span>—One reason for returning -the ball not to bowler, but to wicket-keeper,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> -who should advance quietly, like Box, and return a -catch. A swift throw, or any exertion in the field -which hurts the bowler’s hand, or sets it shaking, -may lose a game. If a bowler has half-volleys -returned to him, by stretching and stooping after -them, he gets out of his swing. Now, this same -swing is a great point with a bowler. Watch him -after he has got his footsteps firm for his feet, and -when in his regular stride, and see the increased -precision of his performance. Then comes the -time when your great gun tumbles down his men: -and that is the time that some sure, judicious -batsman, whose eminence is little seen amidst the -loose hitting of a scratch match, comes calmly and -composedly to the wicket and makes a stand; -and, as he disposes of maiden Overs, and steals ones -and twos, he breaks the spell that bound his men, -and makes the dead-straight bowling good for Cuts -and leg-hits. In no game or sport do I ever -witness half the satisfaction of the bowler who -can thus bowl maiden Overs and defy a score; or -of the batsman who takes the edge off the same, -runs up the telegraph to even betting, and gives -easier work and greater confidence to those who -follow. A wicket-keeper, too, may dart off and -save a bowler from fielding a three or four; and, -whenever he leaves his wicket, slip must take -wicket-keeper’s place. “How stale,” “true; but,—<i>instantly</i>’s -the word,”—from neglect of which,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> -we have seen dreadful mistakes made even in good -matches.</p> - -<p>Ay, and what beautiful things are done by -quick return and a low shy; no time wasted in -parabolic curves: ball just skimming the ground -when it comes in a long hop, but quickest of all -returns is a throw to the top of the bails into -wicket-keeper’s hands.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Point.</span>—Your great strength lies in anticipation: -witness Ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν. To that gentleman -every ball seems hit, because he always gets -thereabouts; yet is he near-sighted withal! ’Tis -the mind that sees, eyes are its glasses, and he -is too good a workman to want excuse for his -tools. With slow bowling and a bad batsman, -Point can anticipate easily enough. Still, with -all bowling, fast and slow, the common fault of -Point is, that he stands, if near, too near; and if -far off, yet not far off enough. Stand where you -yourself can catch and stop. If slow in hand and -eye stand off for longer catches, else, by standing -where a quick man would catch sharp catches, -you miss everything. With fast bowling, few balls -which could be caught at seven yards ground -short of twelve. Though, if the ground is very -rough, or the bowling slow, the ball may be -popped up near the bat, even by good players. -Whenever a ball is hit Off, Point must cross<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> -instanter, or he’ll be too late to back up, especially -the bowler’s wicket.</p> - -<p>Point is sometimes Point proper, like a Wicket-keeper -or Short-slip, to cramp the batsman, and -take advantage of his mistakes; but with fast -bowling and good batsmen, Point may advantageously -stand off like any other fieldsman. For -then, he will save many more runs, and may make -quite as many catches. If Mr. King stood as -Point, and Chatterton as Cover in the same line, -with Pilch batting and Wisden bowling, they -would not (as I presume they are well aware) -work to the best advantage. When Clarke is -bowling he generally wants a veritable Point for -the catch. But, to stand near, as a Scientific Point, -with wild bowling is absurd.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Short-leg</span> is often a very hardly used personage, -expected to save runs that seem easy, but -are actual impossibilities. A good ball, perhaps, is -pushed forward to middle wicket On, Short-leg -being square, and the bowler looks black at him. -Then a Draw is made, when Short-leg is standing -rather forward, and no man is ubiquitous. If -the batsman often does not know where the -rise or bias may reflect the ball, how should the -fieldsman know?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cover-point</span> and <span class="smcap">Long-slip</span> are both difficult -places; the ball comes so fast and curling, that it -puzzles even the best man. No place in the field<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> -but long-stop has the work of long-slip. This used -to be Pilch’s place.</p> - -<p>The chief point in these places is to stand either -to save one or to save two. This depends on the -quickness of the fieldsman and the judgment of -the runners. With such judges of a run as Hon. -F. Ponsonby, Parr, Wisden, and J. Lillywhite, -you must stand rather near to save one; but quick -return is every thing. Here Caldecourt was, years -since, first-rate. I have seen him, at Cover, when -past his best, judge well, start quick, run low, -up and in like a shot to wicket-keeper’s hands; -and what more would you have in fielding? When -E. H. Budd played and won a second match for 100<i>l.</i> -with Mr. Brand—two fieldsmen given,—so much -was thought of Mr. Brand’s having engaged Caldecourt, -that it was agreed he should field on both -sides. He did so, and shied Mr. Budd out at a -single stump. To save two, a good man may -stand a very long way off on hard ground, and -reduce the hardest cuts to singles. But a common -fault is, “standing nowhere,” neither to save -one nor to save two. Remember not to stand as -sharp when fast bowling is replaced by slow. -Cover is the place for brilliant fielding. Watch -well the batsman, and start in time. Half a -spring in anticipation puts you already under -weigh, and makes yards in the ground you can -cover. The following is curious;—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You would think,” said Caldecourt, “that a -ball to the right hand may be returned more -quickly than a ball to the left.” But ask him, -and he will show you how, if at a long reach, he -always found it otherwise. The right shoulder -may be even in the better position to return (in -spite of change of hands), when the left picks up -the ball than when the right picks it.</p> - -<p>Some good Covers have been quicker with a -hard jerk than a throw, for the attitude of fielding -is less altered. Still a jerk is less easy to the -wicket-keeper. A long-slip with good head and -heels may assist long-stop; his triumph is to run -a man out by anticipating the balls that bump off -long-stop’s wrists and shins.</p> - -<p>A third man up, or a middle-slip, is at times -very killing: this allows long-slip to stand back for -hard hits, and no catch escapes. A forward Point, -or middle wicket close in, often snaps up a catch -or two, particularly when the ground is dangerous -for forward play, or the batsman plays hesitatingly.</p> - -<p>Thick-soled shoes save colds in soppy weather, -and do not jar when the ground is hard; for the -Cantabs say that</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>Thin soles + hard ground = tender feet,</p></div> - -<p class="noindent">is an undeniable equation. Bowlers should wear -worsted socks to save blisters, and mind the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> -thread is not fastened off in a knot, just under the -most sensitive part of the heel.</p> - -<p>Much inconvenience arises in a match (for the -best player may be out) by spectators standing in -the eye of the ball; so, stretch strips of white -canvass on poles five feet high; for this, while it -keeps the stupid away, provides a white background -for each wicket.</p> - -<p>This is good also in a park, where the deep -shade of trees increases the confessed uncertainty -of the game. Some such plan is much wanted -on all public grounds where the sixpenny freeholders -stand and hug their portly corporations, -and, by standing in the line of the wicket, give -the ball all the shades of green coat, light waistcoat, -and drab smalls. Still, batsmen must try to -rise superior to such annoyances; for, if the bowler -changes his side of the wicket, the umpire will -often be in the light of the ball.</p> - -<p>Oh! that ring at Lord’s; for, as in olden -time,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">—“si quid fricti ciceris probat et nucis emptor;”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">that is, if the swillers of half-and-half and -smokers of pigtail,—a preponderating influence -and large majority of voices,—applaud a hit, it does -not follow that it is a good one: nor, if they cry -“Butterfingers!” need the miss be a bad one. -No credit for good intentions!—no allowance for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> -a twisting catch and the sun enough to singe your -eyelids!—the hit that wins the “half-and-half” -is the finest hit for that select assemblage, whose -“sweet voices” quite drown the nicer judgment -of the pavilion, even as vote by ballot would -swamp the House of Lords.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Long-stop.</span>—If you would estimate the value -of a practised long-stop, only try to play a match -with a bad one. Still, patient merit is rarely appreciated; -for, what is done very well looks so easy. -Long-stopping requires the cleanest handling and -quickest return. The best in form I ever saw was -an Oxonian about 1838,—a Mr. Napier. One -of the worst in form, however, was the best of his -day in effect,—Good; for he took the ball sideways. -A left-handed man, as Good was, has a -great advantage in stopping slips under-leg. -Among the ancients, Old Beagley was the man. -But there is many a man whose praise is yet unsung; -for when Mr. E. H. Budd saw Mr. R. Stothert -at Lansdown, Bath, stop right and left to Mr. -Kirwan’s bowling, he alluded to Beagley’s doings, -and said Beagley never came up to R. Stothert. -Mr. Marshall (jun.) in the same Club stopped for -Mr. Marcon without one bye through a long innings. -The gentleman who opposed the firmest -front, however, for years, to Messrs. Kirwan and -Fellowes,—bowlers, who have broken studs into -the breast-bone of a long-stop, and then, to make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> -amends, taken fourpenny-bits of skin off his shins, -is Mr. Hartopp, pronounced, by Mr. Charles Burt,—himself -undeniable at that point,—to be the best -for a continuance he has ever seen. <i>Vigeat vireatque!</i> -His form is good; and he works with great -ease and cool attention. Among the most celebrated -at present are Mr. C. Ridding, W. Pilch, -Guy, and Dean.</p> - -<p>On Long-stopping, Mr. Hartopp kindly writes:—“No -place requires so much patient perseverance: -the work is so mechanical. I have seen many a -brilliant fieldsman there for a short innings, while -the bowling is straight and rarely passes; but, let -him have to humdrum through 150 or 200 runs, -and he will get bored, tired, and careless; then, -runs come apace. Patience is much wanted, if a -sharp runner is in; for he will often try a long-stop’s -temper by stealing runs; in such a case, I have -found it the best plan to prepare the wicket-keeper -for a hard throw to his, the nearer, wicket; -for, if this does not run the man out, it frightens -him down to steadier running. Throwing over -may sometimes answer; but a cunning runner -will get in your way, or beat a ball thrown over -his head. Long-stop’s distance must often be as -much as four or five yards less for a good runner -than for a bad. Short distance does not make -stopping more difficult; because, it gives fewer -hops and twists to the ball; but a longer distance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> -enables you to cover more tips and draws, and -saves leg-byes. Good runners ought to cross if -the ball is in the least fumbled; but clean fielding, -with quick underhand return, would beat the -Regent Street Pet himself, did he attempt a run. -Long-stop is wholly at fault if he requires the -wicket-keeper to stand aside: this would spoil -the stumping. As to gloves and pads, let every -one please himself; we must choose between -gloves and sore hands; but wrist gauntlets are of -great use, and no hindrance to catches, which often -come spinning to the long-stop, and otherwise -difficult.</p> - -<p>“As to form, dropping on one knee is a bad -position for any fielding: you are fixed and left -behind by any sudden turn of the ball. The best -rule is to watch the ball from the bowler’s hand -and move accordingly, and you will soon find for -how much bias to allow; and beware of a slope -like Lord’s: it causes a greater deviation than you -would imagine in thirty yards. Just as the ball -comes, draw yourself up heels together (thus many -a shooter have I stopped), and, picking as neatly -as you can, pitch it back to wicket-keeper as if it -were red hot. Quick return saves many byes, -and keeps up an appearance which prevents the -attempt. The same discrimination of lengths is -required with hands as with bat. Long hops are -easy: a tice is as hard almost as a shooter; half-volley<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> -is a teaser. Such balls as pitch up to you -should be ‘played forward’ by pushing or sweeping -your hands out to meet them; even if you do -not field them clean, still you will often save a -run by forcing the ball up towards the wicket-keeper, -and having it before you.</p> - -<p>“A Long-stop wants much command of attention,—eye -never off the ball; and this, so little -thought of, is the one great secret of all fielding: -you must also play your hardest and your very -best; a habit which few have energy to sustain. -If you miss a ball, rattle away after it; do not -stand, as many do, to apologise by dumb show. -If the ball bumps up at the moment of handling, -throw your chin up and let it hit your chest as -full as it may: this is Horace’s advice;—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">‘<i>Fortiaque adversis opponite pectora rebus.</i>’</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>“Long-stop should assist the backing up on the -On side, and must start at once to be in time. -The attention he has to sustain is very trying to -the eyes, especially in windy weather.”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wicket-keeping.</span>—If not born with better -ocular nerves than the average, I doubt whether -any degree of practice would make a first-rate -wicket-keeper. Still, since Lillywhite succeeded -in training one of the Winchester eleven in Wicket-keeping, -by bowling accordingly, wicket-keeping -seems an art to be acquired. To place the hands<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> -accurately, right or left, according to the pitch of -the ball, and to take that ball, however fast, unbaulked -by the bat or body of the player, is really -very difficult. But what if we add—and how few, -very few, can accomplish it!—taking the ball in -spite of an unexpected bias or turn from the bat. -Still, practice will do much where nature has -done a little; but with modern bowling you want -a man both “rough and ready.” Mr. Herbert -Jenner was “the ready man;” so also are Messrs. -Anson, Nicholson, and W. Ridding, and Box; but -Wenman was ready and rough too. He had fine -working qualities, and could stand a deal of -pounding, day after day: others have had a short -life and a merry one, and mere transient popularity; -but, for wicket-keeping under difficulties, -give me Wenman. At wicket-keeping, the men -of labour ought to beat the men of leisure. Hard -hands are essential: and, hard hands can only come -from hard work. Wenman’s calling, that of a -wheelwright and carpenter, is in his favour. “I -found my hands quite seasoned,” writes an amateur, -“after a two-month’s work at the oar.” Chatterton -fears no pace in bowling. But Lockyer’s -name now stands highest of all: the certainty -and facility with which he takes Wisden’s bowling, -both with right and left, can hardly be surpassed. -We leave wicket-keepers to emulate Lockyer, -especially in his every-day lasting and working<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> -qualities against fast bowling, for that is the difficulty. -Like Wenman, he does not stand too near, -so he is well placed for catches. Moreover, -they both have weight and power—a decided advantage: -a feather weight may be shaken. Winterton, -of Cambridge, carries great weight with -him at the wicket. This gives a decided advantage -over a player of the weight of Mr. Ridding: albeit, -in the Players’ Match in 1849, Mr. Ridding -stumped Hillyer off Mr. Fellowes’s bowling, and -that with an Off-ball nearly wide! Hammond -was the great wicket-keeper of former days: but -then, the bowling was often about Clarke’s pace. -Browne, of Brighton, and Osbaldeston put -wicket-keepers to flight; but the race reappeared -in—the finest ever seen for moderate pace—Mr. -Jenner, famed not only for the neatest -stumping, but for the marvellous quantity of -ground he could cover, serving, as a near Point, -Leg, and Slip, as well as Wicket-keeper. Box’s -powers, though he has always been a first-rate -man, are rather limited to pace.—“Have me to -bowl,” Lillywhite used to say, “Box to keep -wicket, and Pilch to hit, and then you’ll see -Cricket;” for Box is best with Lillywhite.—As -to making mistakes as wicket-keeper, what mortal -combination of flesh and blood can help it. One -of the most experienced Long-stops, after many -years at Lord’s and in the country, says, to take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> -even one out of three of possible chances, has -proved, in his experience, good average wicket-keeping; -for, think of leg shooters! though Mr. -Ridding could take even them wonderfully well.</p> - -<p>“I have seen,” writes Mr. E. S. E. H., “Mr. C. -Taylor—who was capital at running in, and rarely -stumped out, having an excellent eye, and if the -twist of the ball beat him it was enough to beat the -wicket-keeper also—I have seen him, after missing -a ball, walk quietly back to his ground, poor -wicket-keeper looking foolish and vexed at not -stumping him, and the ring, of course, calling -him a muff.” Really, wicket-keepers are hardly -used; the spectators little know that a twist which -misses the bat, may as easily escape the hand.</p> - -<p>Again, “the best piece of stumping I ever saw -was done by Mr. Anson, in the Players’ Match, -in 1843. Butler, one of the finest of the Nottingham -batsmen, in trying to draw one of Mr. -Mynn’s leg shooters, just lifted, for an instant, his -right foot; Mr. Anson timed the feat beautifully, -and swept the ball with his left hand into the -wicket. I fancy a feat so difficult was never done -so easily.”—“I also saw Mr. Anson, in a match -against the Etonians, stump a man with his right, -catch the flying bail with his left, and replace it -so quickly that the man’s surprise and puzzle -made all the fun: stumped out, though wicket -seemingly never down!” Mr. Jenner was very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> -clever in these things, skimming off one bail with -his little finger, ball in hand, and not troubling -the umpire. Once his friend, Mr. R. K., had -an awkward trick of pulling up his trousers, which -lifted his leg every time he had missed a ball: -Mr. Jenner waited for his accustomed habit, -caught him in the act, and stumped him. “A -similar piece of fun happened in Gentlemen of -England <i>v.</i> Gentlemen of Kent in 1845. A -Kent player sat down to get wind, after a run, -his bat in his ground but with seat of honour out, -and for a moment let go the handle, and the wicket-keeper -stumped him out. He was very angry, -and said he never would play again: however, he -did play the return match at Canterbury, where -he was put out in precisely the same manner. -Since which, like Monsieur Tonson, he has never -been heard of more.”</p> - -<p>That a fieldsman wants wits to his fingers’ ends, -was shown by Martingell one day: being just too -far to command a ball he gave it a touch to keep it -up, and cried, “Catch it, Slip.” Slip, so assisted, -reached the ball.</p> - -<p>The great thing in Wicket-keeping is, for hand -and eye to go together, just as with batting, and -what is exercise for the former, assists the latter. -Any exercise in which the hand habitually tries -to obey the eye, is useful for cricket; fielding -improves batting, and batting improves fielding.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> - -<p>Twelve of the principal wicket-keepers of the -last fifty years were all efficient Batsmen; namely, -Hammond, Searle, Box, Wenman, Dorrington, -C. Brown, Chatterton, Lockyer, with Messrs. -Jenner, Anson, Nicholson, and Ridding.</p> - -<p>“How would you explain, sir,” said Cobbett, -“that the player’s batting keeps pace with the -gentleman’s, when we never take a bat except in a -game?”—Because you are constantly following -the ball with hand and eye together, which forms -a valuable practice for judging pace, and time, -and distance: not enough certainly to teach batting, -but enough to keep it up. Besides, if you -practise too little, most gentlemen practise too -much, ending in a kind of experimental and speculative -play, which proves—like gentleman’s farming—more -scientific than profitable. Amateurs -often try at too much, mix different styles, and, -worse than all, <i>form conflicting habits</i>. The game, -for an average, is the player’s game; because, less -ambitious, with less excitement about favourite -hits, of a simple style, with fewer things to think -of, and a game in which, though limited, they -are better grounded.</p> - -<p>Amateurs are apt to try a bigger game than -they could safely play with twice their practice. -Many a man, for instance, whose talent lies in -defence, tries free hitting, and, between the two, -proves good for nothing. Others, perhaps, can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> -play straight and fairly Off;—and, should not they -learn to hit On also? Certainly: but while in a -transition state, they are not fit for a county -match; and some men are always in this transition -state. Horace had good cricket ideas, for, said he,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“<i>Aut famam sequere, aut sibi convenientia finge.</i>”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">Either play for show off, and “that’s villanous,” -says Hamlet, “and shows a most pitiful ambition -in the fool that uses it;” or, adopt a style you can -put well together—and <i>sumite materiam—æquam -viribus</i>, adopt a style that suits your capabilities; -<i>cui lecta potenter erit res</i>; try at no more than -you can do—<i>nec deseret hunc</i>,—and that’s the -game to carry you through.</p> - -<p>“A mistake,” said an experienced bowler,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> “in -giving a leg ball or two, is not all clear loss; for, -a swing round to the leg often takes a man off his -straight play. To ring the changes on Cutting -with horizontal bat, and forward play with a -straight bat, and leg-hitting, which takes a different -bat again, this requires more steady practice -than most amateurs have either time or perseverance -to learn thoroughly. So, one movement -is continually interfering with the other.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 id="CHAP_XI">CHAP. XI.<br /> -<span class="smaller">CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS.—MISCELLANEOUS.</span></h2> - -<p>William Beldham saw as much of cricket as -any other man in England, from the year 1780 to -about 1820. Mr. E. H. Budd and Caldecourt are -the best of chroniclers from the days of Beldham -down to George Parr. Yet neither of these -worthies could remember any injury at cricket, -which would at all compare with those “moving -accidents of flood and field” which have thinned -the ranks of Nimrod, Hawker, or Isaac Walton. -A fatal accident in any legitimate game of cricket -is almost unknown. Mr. A. Haygarth, however, -kindly informed me that the father of George III. -died from the effects of a blow from a cricket -ball. His authority is Wraxall’s Memoirs:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Frederick, Prince of Wales, son of George II., -expired suddenly in 1751, at Leicester House, in -the arms of Desnoyèrs, the celebrated dancing -master. His end was caused by an internal -abscess that had long been forming in consequence -of a blow which he received in the side from a -cricket ball while he was engaged in playing at -that game on the lawn at Cliefden House in -Buckinghamshire, where he then principally resided. -It did not take place, however, till several -months after the accident, when a collection of -matter burst and instantly suffocated him.”</p> - -<p>A solicitor at Romsey, about 1825, was, says an -eye-witness, struck so hard in the abdomen that -he died in a week of mortification. There is -a rumour of a boy at school, about eighteen -years since, and another boy about twenty-eight -years ago, being severally killed by a blow on -the head with a cricket ball. A dirty boy also, of -Salisbury town, in 1826, having contracted a bad -habit of pocketing the balls of the pupils of Dr. -Ratcliffe, was hit rather hard on the head with a -brass-tipped stump, and, by a strange coincidence, -died, as the jury found, of “excess of passion,” a -few hours after.</p> - -<p>The most likely source of serious injury, is -when a hitter returns the ball with all his force, -straight back to the bowler. Caldecourt and the -Rev. C. Wordsworth, severally and separately, remarked -in my hearing that they had shuddered at -cricket once, each in the same position, and each -from the same hitter! Each had a ball hit back -to him by that powerful hitter Mr. H. Kingscote, -which whizzed, in defiance of hand or eye, most -dangerously by. A similar hit, already described, -by Hammond who took a ball at the pitch, just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> -missed Lord F. Beauclerk’s head, and spoiled his -nerve for bowling ever after. But, what if these -several balls had really hit? who knows whether -the respective skulls might not have stood the -shock, as in a case which I witnessed in Oxford, -in 1835; when one Richard Blucher, a Cowley -bowler, was hit on the head by a clean half-volley, -from the bat of Henry Daubeny—than whom -few Wykehamists <i>used</i> (<i>fuit!</i>) to hit with better -eye or stronger arm. Still “Richard was himself -again” the very next day; for, we saw him -with his head tied up, bowling at shillings as industriously -as ever. Some skulls stand a great -deal. Witness the sprigs of Shillelah at Donnibrook -fair; still most indubitably tender is the -face; as also—which <i>horresco referens</i>; and here -let me tell wicket-keepers and long-stops especially, -that a cricket jacket made long and full, with -pockets to hold a handkerchief sufficiently in front, -is a precaution not to be despised; though “the -race of inventive men” have also devised a cross-bar -india-rubber guard, aptly described in Achilles’ -threat to Thersites, in the Iliad.<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p> - -<div class="footnotes"> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Hom. Il. <span class="smcapuc">II</span>. 262.</p> - -</div> - -</div> - -<p>The most alarming accident I ever saw occurred -in one of the many matches played by the Lansdown -Club against Mr. E. H. Budd’s Eleven, at -Purton, in 1835. Two of the Lansdown players<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> -were running between wickets; and good Mr. -Pratt—<i>immani corpore</i>—was standing mid way, -and hiding each from the other. Both were rushing -the same side of him, and as one held his bat -most dangerously extended, the point of it met his -partner under the chin, forced back his head as if -his neck were broken, and dashed him senseless to -the ground. Never shall I forget the shudder -and the chill of every heart, till poor Price—for -he it was—being lifted up, gradually evinced returning -consciousness; and, at length, when all -was explained, he smiled, amidst his bewilderment, -with his usual good-nature, on his unlucky -friend. A surgeon, who witnessed the collision, -feared he was dead, and said, afterwards, that -with less powerful muscles (for he had a neck like -a bull-dog) he never could have stood the shock. -Price told me next day that he felt as if a little -more and he never should have raised his head -again.</p> - -<p>And what Wykehamist of 1820-30 does not -remember R—— Price? or what Fellow of New -College down to 1847, when</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“<i>Multis ille bonis flebilis occidit</i>,”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">has not enjoyed his merriment in the Common -Room or his play on Bullingdon and Cowley -Marsh? His were the safest hands and most -effective fielding ever seen. To attempt the one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> -run from a cover hit when Price was there, or -to give the sight of one stump to shy at, was a -wicket lost. When his friend, F. B. Wright, or -any one he could trust, was at the wicket, well -backed up, the ball, by the fine old Wykehamist -action, was up and in with such speed and precision -as I have hardly seen equalled and never exceeded. -When he came to Lord’s, in 1825, with -that Wykehamist Eleven which Mr. Ward so long -remembered with delight, their play was unknown -and the bets on their opponents; but when once -Price was seen practising at a single stump, his -Eleven became the favourites immediately; for he -was one of the straightest of all fast bowlers; and -I have heard experienced batsmen say, “We don’t -care for his underhand bowling, only it is so -straight we could take no liberties, and the first -we missed was Out.” I never envied any man his -sight and nerve like Price—the coolest practitioner -you ever saw: he always looked bright, -though others blue; and you had only to glance -at his sharp grey eyes, and you could at once account -for the fact that one stump to shy at, a rook -for a single bullet, or the ripple of a trout in a -bushy stream, was so much fun for R. Price.</p> - -<p>Some of the most painful accidents have been -of the same kind—from collision; therefore I -never blame a man who, as the ball soars high in -air, and the captain of his side does not (as he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> -ought if he can) call out “Johnson has it!” stops -short, for fear of three spikes in his instep, or the -buttons of his neighbour’s jacket forcibly coinciding -with his own. Still, these are not distinctively -the dangers of cricket: men may run their -heads together in the street.</p> - -<p>The principal injuries sustained are in the -fingers; though, I did once know a gentleman -who played in spectacles, and seeing two balls in -the air, he caught at the shadow, and nearly had -the substance in his face. The old players, in the -days of underhand bowling, played without -gloves; and Bennet assured me he had seen Tom -Walker, before advancing civilisation made man -tender, rub his bleeding fingers in the dust. The -old players could show finger-joints of most ungenteel -dimensions; and no wonder, for a finger -has been broken even through tubular india-rubber. -Still, with a good pair of cricket gloves, no -man need think much about his fingers; albeit -flesh will blacken, joints will grow too large for -the accustomed ring, and finger-nails will come off. -A spinning ball is the most mischievous; and -when there is spin and pace too (as with a ball -from Mr. Fellowes, which you can hear humming -like a top) the danger is too great for mere amusement; -for when, as in the Players’ Match of -1849, Hillyer plays a bowler a foot away from -his stumps, and Pilch cannot face him—which is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> -true when Mr. Fellowes bowls on any but the -smoothest ground—why then, we will not say -that any thing which that hardest of hitters and -thorough cricketer does, is not cricket, but certainly -it is anything but <i>play</i>.</p> - -<p>Some of the worst injuries of the hands occur -rather in fielding than in batting. A fine player -of the Kent Eleven, about three years ago, so far -injured his thumb that one of the joints was removed, -and he has rarely played since. Another -of the best gentleman players broke one of the -bones of his hand in putting down a wicket: but, -strangest of all, I saw one of the Christchurch -eleven at Oxford, in 1835, in fielding at Cover, -split up his hand an inch in length between his -second and third fingers: still, all was well in -a few weeks.</p> - -<p>Add to all these chances of war, the many balls -which are flying at the same time at Lord’s and -at the Universities, and other much frequented -grounds, on a practising day. At Oxford you may -see, any day in the summer, on Cowley Marsh, -two rows of six wickets each facing each other, -with a space of about sixty yards between each -row, and ten yards between each wicket. Then, -you have twelve bowlers, <i>dos à dos</i>, and as many -hitters—making twelve balls and twenty-four -men, all in danger’s way at once, besides bystanders. -The most any one of these bowlers can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> -do is to look out for the balls of his own set; -whether hit or not by a ball from behind, is very -much a matter of chance. A ball from the -opposite row once touched my hair. The wonder -is, that twelve balls should be flying in a -small space nearly every day, yet I never heard -of any man being hit in the face—a fact the -more remarkable because there was usually free -hitting with loose bowling. Pierce Egan records -that, in 1830, in the Hyde Park Ground, -Sheffield, nine double-wicket games were playing -at once—<span class="smcapuc">TWO HUNDRED PLAYERS</span> within six -acres of grass! One day, at Lord’s, just before -the match bell rung after dinner, I saw one of the -hardest hitters in the M.C.C. actually trying -how hard he could drive among the various clusters -of sixpenny amateurs, every man thinking it -fun, and no one dangerous. An elderly gentleman -cannot stand a bruise so well—matter forms or -bone exfoliates. But then, an elderly gentleman,—bearing -an inverse ratio in all things to him -who calls him “governor,”—is the most careful -thing in nature; and as to young blood, it circulates -too fast to be overtaken by half the ills -that flesh is heir to.</p> - -<p>A well known Wykehamist player of R. Price’s -standing, was lately playing as wicket-keeper, and -seeing the batsman going to hit Off, ran almost to -the place of a near Point; the hit, a tremendously<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> -hard one, glanced off from his forehead—he called -out “Catch it,” and it was caught by bowler! -He was not hurt—not even marked by the ball.</p> - -<p>Four was scored at Beckenham, 1850, by a hit -that glanced off Point’s head; but the player -suffered much in this instance.</p> - -<p>A spot under the window of the tavern at -Lord’s was marked as the evidence of a famous -hit by Mr. Budd, and when I played, Oxford <i>v.</i> -Cambridge, in 1836, Charles, son of Lord F. -Beauclerk, hitting above that spot elicited the observation -from the old players. Beagley hit a ball -from his Lordship over a bank 120 yards. Freemantle’s -famous hit was 130 yards in the air. -Freemantle’s bail was once hit up and fell back -on the stump: Not out. A similar thing was -witnessed by a friend on the Westminster Ground. -“One hot day,” said Bayley, “I saw a new stump -bowled out of the perpendicular, but the bail -stuck in the groove from the melting of the varnish -in the sun, and the batsman continued his -innings.” I have seen Mr. Kirwan hit a bail -thirty yards. A bail has flown forty yards.</p> - -<p>I once chopped hard down upon a shooter, and -the ball went a foot away from my bat straight -forward towards the bowler, and then, by its rotary -motion, returned in the same straight line -exactly, like the “draw-back stroke” at billiards, -and shook the bail off.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span></p> - -<p>At a match played at Cambridge, a lost ball -was found so firmly fixed on the point of a broken -glass bottle in an ivied wall, that a new ball was -necessary to continue the game.</p> - -<p>Among remarkable games of cricket, are games -on the ice—as on Christchurch meadow, Oxford, -in 1849, and other places. The one-armed and -one-legged pensioners of Greenwich and Chelsea -is an oft-repeated match.</p> - -<p>Mr. Trumper and his dog challenged and beat -two players at single wicket in 1825, on Harefield -common, near Rickmansworth.</p> - -<p>Female cricketers Southey deemed worthy of -notice in his Common-place Book. A match, he -says, was played at Bury between the Matrons -and the Maids of the parish. The Matrons vindicated -their superiority and challenged any eleven -petticoats in the county of Suffolk. A similar -match, it is noted, was played at West Tarring in -1850. Southey also was amused at five legs -being broken in one match—but only wooden -legs—of Greenwich pensioners.</p> - -<p>Eleven females of Surrey were backed against -Eleven of Hampshire, says Pierce Egan, at Newington, -Oct. 2. 1811, by two noblemen for 500 -guineas a side. Hants won. And a similar -match was played in strict order and decorum on -Lavant Level, Sussex, before 3000 spectators.</p> - -<p>Matches of much interest have been played<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> -between members of the same family and some -other club. Besides “the Twelve Cæsars,” the -four Messrs. Walker and the Messrs. B -Ridding have proved how cricket may run in a family, not -to forget four of the House of Verulam.</p> - -<p>Pugilists have rarely been cricket players. -“We used to see the fighting men,” said Beldham, -“playing skittles about the ground, but -there were no players among them.” Ned O’Neal -was a pretty good player; and Bendigo had -friends confident enough to make a p.p. match between -him and George Parr for 50<i>l.</i> When the -day came, Bendigo appeared with a lame leg, and -Parr’s friends set an example worthy of true -cricketers; they scorned to play a lame man, or to -profit by their neighbour’s misfortunes.</p> - -<p>In the famous Nottingham match, 1817, Bentley, -on the All England side, was playing well, -when he was given “run out,” having run round -his ground. “Why,” said Beldham, “he had -been home long enough to take a pinch of snuff.” -They changed the umpire; but the blunder lost -the match.</p> - -<p>“Spiked shoes,” said Beldham, “were not in -use in my country. Never saw them till I went -to Hambledon.” “Robinson,” said old Mr. Morton, -the dramatist, “began with spikes of a monstrous -length, on one foot.” “The first notion of -a leg guard I ever saw,” said an old player,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> “was -Robinson’s: he put together two thin boards, -angle-wise, on his right shin: the ball would go off -it as clean as off the bat, and made a precious deal -more noise: but it was laughed at—did not last -long. Robinson burnt some of his fingers off when -a child, and had the handle of his bat grooved, to -fit the stunted joints. Still, he was a fine hitter.”</p> - -<p>A one-armed man, who used a short bat in his -right hand, has been known to make a fair average -score.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sawdust.</span>—Beldham, Robinson, and Lambert, -played Bennett, Fennex, and Lord F. Beauclerk, -a notable single wicket match at Lord’s, 27th -June, 1806. Lord Frederick’s last innings was -winning the game, and no chance of getting him -out. His Lordship had then lately introduced -sawdust when the ground was wet. Beldham, -unseen, took up a lump of wet dirt and sawdust, -and stuck it on the ball, which, pitching favourably, -made an extraordinary twist, and took the -wicket. This I heard separately from Beldham, -Bennett, and also Fennex, who used to mention -it as among the wonders of his long life.</p> - -<p>As to <span class="smcapuc">LONG SCORES</span>, above one hundred in an -innings rather lessens than adds to the interest of -a game.</p> - -<p>The greatest number recorded, with overhand -bowling, was in M.C.C. <i>v.</i> Sussex, at Brighton, -about 1844; the four innings averaged 207 each.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> -In 1815, Epsom <i>v.</i> Middlesex, at Lord’s, scored -first innings, 476. Sussex <i>v.</i> Epsom, in 1817, -scored 445 in one innings. Mr. Ward’s great -innings was 278, in M.C.C. <i>v.</i> Norfolk, 24th -July, 1820, but with underhand bowling. Mr. -Mynn’s great innings at Leicester was in North -<i>v.</i> South, in 1836. South winning by 218 runs. -Mr. Mynn 21 (not out) and 125 (not out) against -Redgate’s bowling. Wisden, Parr, and Pilch, -Felix, and Julius Cæsar, and John Lillywhite, -have scored above 100 runs in one innings -against good bowling. Wisden once bowled ten -wickets in one innings: Mr. Kirwan has done the -same thing.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">In Bowling.</span>—The greatest feat ever recorded -is this:—that Lillywhite bowled Pilch 61 balls -without a run, and the last took his wicket. True, -Clarke bowled Daniel Day, at Weymouth, 60 balls -without a run, but then Daniel would hit at nothing. -Clarke also bowled 64 balls without a run -to Caffyn and Box, in Notts <i>v.</i> England in 1853, -no doubt a great achievement; still, at slow -bowling, these players have not their usual confidence: -they had over pitched balls which they -did not hit away. But Pilch was not the man -to miss a chance, and the fact that he made no -run from 61 balls speaks wonders as to what -Lillywhite could do in his best day.</p> - -<p>Mr. Marcon, at Attlebury, 1850, bowled four<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> -men in four successive balls. The Lansdown -Club, in 1850, put the West Gloucestershire -Club out for six runs, and of these only two were -scored by hits—so ten ciphers! Eleven men -last year (1850) were out for a run each; Mr. -Felix being one. Mr. G. Yonge, playing against -the Etonians, put a whole side out for six runs. -A friend, playing the Shepton Mallet Club, put -his adversaries in, second innings, for seven runs to -tie, and got all out for five! In a famous Wykehamist -match all depended on an outsider’s making -two runs, he made a hard hit; when, in the -moment of exultation, “Cut away, you young sinner,” -said a big fellow; and lo! down he laid his -bat, and did indeed cut away, but—to the tent! -while the other side, amidst screams of laughter -at the mistake, put down the wicket and won the -match.</p> - -<p>In a B. Match, 1810, the B.s, scored second -innings, only 6; and four of these were made at one -hit, by J. Wells, a man given, though the first -innings scored 137.</p> - -<p>True, E. H. Budd was “<i>absent</i>,” still the Bentleys, -Bennett, Beldham and Lord Frederick Beauclerk -were among the ten.</p> - -<p>On the Surrey ground, 1851, had not an easy -catch been missed, the Eleven of All England -would have gone out for a run apiece.</p> - -<p>The Smallest Score on record is that of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> -Paltiswick Club, when playing against Bury in -1824: their first innings was only 4 runs! Pilch -bowled out eight of them. In their next innings -they scored 46. Bury, first innings, 101.</p> - -<p>In a match at Oxford, in 1835, I saw the two -last wickets, Charles Beauclerk and E. Buller, -score 110 runs; and in an I.Z. match at Leamington, -the last wickets scored 80.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Tie Matches.</span>—There have been only four of -any note: the first was played at Woolwich, in -1818, M.C.C. <i>v.</i> Royal Artillery, with E. H. -Budd, Esq.; the second, at Lord’s, in 1839, M. -C. C. <i>v.</i> Oxford; the third, at Lord’s, between -Winchester and Eton; the fourth at the Oval, -in 1847, Surrey <i>v.</i> Kent. But at a scratch -match of Woking <i>v.</i> Shiere, in 1818, at Woking, -there was a tie each innings and all four innings -the same number, 71!</p> - -<p>As to <span class="smcapuc">HARD HITTING</span>.—“One of the longest -hits in air of modern days,” writes a friend,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> -“was made at Himley about three years since -by Mr. Fellowes, confessedly one of the hardest -of all hitters. The same gentleman, in practice -on the Leicester ground, hit, clean over the -poplars, one hundred long paces from the wicket: -the distance from bat to pitch of ball may be -fairly stated as 140 yards. This was ten yards -further, I think, than the hit at Himley, which -every one wondered at; though, the former was off -slow lobs in practice, the latter in a match. Mr. -Fellowes once made so high a hit over the bowler’s -(Wisden’s) head, that the second run was finished -as the ball returned to earth! He was afterwards -caught by Armitage, Long-field On, when half -through the second run. I have also seen, I think, -Mr. G. Barker, of Trinity, hit a nine on Parker’s -Piece. It took three average throwers to throw -it up. Mr. Bastard, of Trinity, hit a ten on the -same ground. Sir F. Heygate, this year, hit an -eight at Leicester.” When Mr. Budd hit a -nine at Woolwich, strange to say, it proved a -tie match: an eight would have lost the game. -Practise clean hitting, correct position, and judgment -of lengths with free arm, and the ball is -sure to go far enough. The habit of hitting at a -ball oscillating from a slanting pole will greatly -improve any unpractised hitter. A soft ball -will answer the purpose, pierced and threaded on -a string.</p> - -<p>The most vexatious of all stupid things was -done by James Broadbridge, in Sussex <i>v.</i> England, -at Brighton, in 1827, one of the trial -matches which excited such interest in the early -days of overhand bowling. “We went in for -120 to win,” said our good friend, Captain -Cheslyn. “Now,” I said,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> “my boys, let every -man resolve on a steady game and the match is -ours; when, almost at the first set off, that stupid -fellow Jim threw his bat a couple of yards at a -ball too wide to reach, and Mr. Ward caught -him at Point! The loss of this one man’s innings -was not all, for the men went in disgusted; the -quicksilver was up with the other side, and down -with us, and the match was lost by twenty-four -runs.” But, though stupid in this instance, Broadbridge -was one of the most artful dodgers that -ever handled a ball. And once he practised for -some match till he appeared to all the bowlers -about Lord’s to have reduced batting to a certainty: -but when the time came, amidst the most -sanguine expectations of his friends, he made -no runs.</p> - -<p>Now for Generalship: A manager had better -not be a bowler, least of all a slow bowler, for he -wants some impartial observer to tell him when -to go on and when to change,—a modest man -will leave off too soon; a conceited man too late. -To say nothing of the effect of a change, so well -known to gain, not only wickets, but catches -(because the timing is different), it is too little -considered that different bowlers are difficult to -different men,—a very forward player, and one -eager for a Cut, may respectively be <i>non-suited</i>, -each by the bowling easiest to the other. A -manager requires the greatest equanimity and -temper, especially in managing his bowlers, on -whom all depends. He should lead while he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> -appears only to consult them, and never let them -feel that the men are placed contrary to their -wishes. By changing the best fieldmen into the -busiest places, four or five good men appear like -a good eleven. To put a man short slip who is -slow of sight, and a man long leg who does not -understand a long catch, may lose a match. In -putting the batsmen in, it is a great point to -have men in early who are likely to make a -stand,—falling wickets are very discouraging. -Also beware of the bad judges of a run; and -match your men to the bowling, I have seen a -man score twenty against one bowler who was at -work two against another—keep your men in -good spirits and good humour; if the game is -against you, save all you can, and wait one of -those wondrous changes that a single Over sometimes -makes. Never despair till the last man’s out. -The M.C.C. in 1847 in playing Surrey followed -their innings, being headed by 106; still they won -the match by nine runs.</p> - -<p>The manager should always choose his own -Eleven; and, we have already hinted that fielding, -rather than batting, is the qualification. A good -field is sure to save runs, though the best batsman -may not make any. When all are agreed on the -bowlers, I would leave the bowlers to select such -men as they can trust. Then, in their secret conclave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> -you will hear such principles of selection as -these:—“King must be Point, Chatterton we -cannot afford to put Cover unless you can ensure -Wenman to keep wicket; Dean must be long-stop: -he works so hard and saves so many draws; and I -have not nerve to attack the leg stump as I ought -to with any other man. We shall have three men -at least against us whom we cannot reckon on -bowling out; so if for Short-slip we have a Hillyer, -and at leg such a man as Coates of Sheffield, we -may pick these men up pretty easily.” “But as -to Sir Wormwood Scrubbs, our secretary vows -he shall never get any more pine apples and champagne -for our Gala days if we don’t have him, -and he is about our sixth bat.” “Can’t be helped, -for, what with his cigar and his bad temper, he -will put us all wrong; besides, we must have John -Gingerley, whose only fault is chaffing, and these -two men will never do together: then for Middle-wicket -we have Young George.” “Why, Edwards -is quite as safe.” “Yes; but not half as -tractable. I would never bowl without George -if I could have him; his eye is always on me, and -he will shift his place for every ball in the Over, -if I wish it. A handy man to put about in a -moment just where you want him, is worth a great -deal to a bowler.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> “Then you leave out Kingsmill, -Barker, and Cotesworth? Why, they can -score better than most of the tail of the Eleven!” -“Yes; on practising days, with loose play, but, -with good men against them, what difference can -there be between any two men, when the first -ripping ball levels both alike?”</p> - -<p>When taking the field, good humour and confidence -is the thing. A general who expects -every thing smooth, in dealing with ten fallible -fellow-creatures, should be at once dismissed the -service: he must always have some man he had -rather change as Virgil says of the bees—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Semper erunt quarum mutari corpora malis</i>;</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">but if you can have four or five safe players, join -your influence with theirs, and so keep up an -appearance of working harmoniously together. -Obviously two bowlers of different pace, like -Clarke and Wisden, work well together, as also a -left-handed and right-handed batsman, like Felix -and Pilch, whom we have seen run up a hundred -runs faster than ever before or since;</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Nunc dextrâ ingeminans ictus, nunc ille sinistrâ.</i></div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Never put in all your best men at first, and -leave “a tail” to follow: many a game has been -lost in this manner, for men lose confidence when -all the best are out: add to this, most men play -better for the encouragement that a good player<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> -often gives. And take care that you put good -judges of a run in together. A good runner starts -intuitively and by habit, where a bad judge, seeing -no chance, hesitates and runs him out. If a good -Off-hitter and a good Leg-hitter are in together, -the same field that checks the one will give an -opening to the other.</p> - -<p>Frequent change of bowlers, where two men -are making runs, is good: but do not change good -bowling for inferior, till it is hit; unless, you know -your batsman is a dangerous man, only waiting -till his eyes are open.</p> - -<p>With a fine forward player, a near Middle-wicket -or forward Point often snaps up a catch, -when the Bowler varies his time; generally, a -third Slip can hardly be spared.</p> - -<p>If your Wicket-keeper is not likely to stump -any one, make a Slip of him, provided you play a -Short-leg; otherwise he is wanted at the wicket -to save the single runs.</p> - -<p>And if Point is no good as Point for a sharp -catch, make a field of him. A bad Point will -make more catches, and save more runs some -yards back. Many a time have I seen both Point -and Wicket-keeper standing where they were of -no use. The general must place his men not on -any plan or theory, but where each particular -man’s powers can be turned to the best account.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> -We have already mentioned the common error of -men standing too far to save One, and not as -far as is compatible with saving Two.</p> - -<p>With a free hitter, a man who does not pitch -very far up answers best; short leg-balls are not -easily hit. A lobbing bowler, with the Long-stop, -and four men in all, on the On side, will shorten -the innings of many a reputed fine hitter.</p> - -<p>A good arrangement of your men, according to -these principles, will make eleven men do the -work of thirteen. Some men play nervously at -first they come in, and it is so much waste of -your forces to lay your men far out, and equally -a waste not to open your field as they begin to -hit.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We must conclude with comments on the Laws -of the Game.</p> - -<p>I. The ball. Before the days of John Small a -ball would not last a match; the stitches would -give way. To call for a new ball at the beginning -of each innings is not customary now.</p> - -<p>II. The bat. Here, the length of the blade of -a bat may be any thing the player likes short of -thirty-eight inches. As to the width, an iron -frame was used in the old Hambledon Club as a -gauge, in those primitive days when the Hampshire -yeomen shaped out their own bats.</p> - -<p>V. The popping crease must be four feet from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> -the wicket, and parallel to it: unlimited in length, -but not shorter than the bowling crease,—<i>unlimited</i> -in this sense that it shall not be said the -runner is out because he ran round his ground.</p> - -<p>The bowling crease is limited; because, otherwise, -the batsman never could take guard; and -umpires should be very careful to call “No Ball,” -if the bowler bowls outside the return crease.</p> - -<p>The return, or crease, is not limited; because -it is against a batsman’s interest to run wide of -his wicket; and a little latitude is requisite to -prevent dangerous collision with the wicket-keeper.</p> - -<p>VI. The wickets. Secretaries should provide a -rule, or frame, consisting of two wooden measures, -six feet eight inches long, and four feet apart, and -parallel. Then, with a chain of twenty-two yards, -the relative positions of the two wickets may be -accurately determined.</p> - -<p>IX. The bowler. “One foot on the ground.” -No man can deliver a ball with the foot not touching -the ground in the full swing of bowling. So, -if the foot is over the crease, there is no doubt -of its being on the ground.</p> - -<p>X. The ball must be bowled: “not thrown or -jerked:” here there is not a word about “touching -the side with the arm.” It is left to the umpire to -decide what is a jerk. We once heard an umpire -asked, how could you make that out to be a jerk?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I say it is a jerk because it is a jerk,” was the -sensible reply. “I know a jerk when I see one, -and I have a right to believe my eyes, though I -cannot define wherein a jerk consists.”</p> - -<p>In a jerk there is a certain mechanical precision -and curl of the ball wholly unlike fair bowling.</p> - -<p>A throw may be made in two ways; one way -with an arm nearly straight from first to last: -this throw with straight arm requires the hand to -be raised as high as the head, and brought down -in a whirl or circle, the contrary foot being used -as the pivot on which the body moves in the -delivery. But the more common throw, under -pretence of bowling, results from the hand being -first bent on the fore-arm, and then power of -delivery being gained by the sudden lash out and -straightening of the elbow. It is a mistake to -say that the action of the wrist makes a throw.</p> - -<p>“In delivery” means some action so called: if -the mere opening of the hand is delivery of the -ball, then the only question is the height of the -hand the moment it opens. But if, as we think, -“delivery” comprehends the last action of the -arm that gives such opening of the hand effect, -then in no part of that action may the hand be -above the shoulder.</p> - -<p>Further, in case of doubt as to fair bowling, -the umpire is to decide against the bowler; so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> -the hand must be <i>clearly</i> not above the shoulder, -and the ball as clearly not thrown, nor jerked.</p> - -<p>Now, as to high delivery as a source of danger, -we never yet witnessed that kind of high bowling -that admitted of a dangerous increase of speed in -an angry moment. The only bowling ever deemed -dangerous, has been clearly below the shoulder, -and savouring more of a jerk, or of an underhand -sling, or throw, than of the round-armed or high -delivery. Such bowlers were Mr. Osbaldestone, -Browne of Brighton, Mr. Kirwan, Mr. Fellowes, -and Mr. Marcon, neither of whom, except on -smooth ground, should we wish to encounter.</p> - -<p>But, we have often been asked, do the law and -the practice coincide? Is it not a fact that few -round-armed bowlers are clearly below the shoulder? -Undoubtedly this is the fact. The better -the bowler, as we have already explained, the -more horizontal and the fairer his delivery. Cobbett -and Hillyer have eminently exemplified this -principle; but amongst amateurs and all but the -most practised bowlers, allowing, of course, for -some exceptions, the law is habitually infringed. -In a country match a strict umpire would often cry -“no ball” to the bowlers on both sides, cramp their -action, produce wide balls and loose bowling, and -eventually, not to spoil the day’s sport, the two -parties would come to a compromise. And do -such things ever happen? Not often. Because<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> -the umpires exercise a degree of discretion, and -the law in the country is often a dead letter. -Practically, the 10th law enables a fair umpire -to prevent an undisguised and dangerous throw; -but, at the same time, it enables an unfair umpire -to put aside some promising player who is as fair -as his neighbours, but has not the same clique to -support him.</p> - -<p>What, then, would we suggest? The difficulty -is in the nature of the case. To leave all to the -umpire’s discretion would, as to fair bowling, -increase those evils of partiality, and, instead of -an uncertain standard, we should have no standard -at all. With fair umpires the law does as well as -many other laws as it is; with unfair umpires no -form of words would mend the matter. I can -never forget the remark of the late Mr. Ward:—“Cricketers -are a very peaceably disposed set of -men. We play for the love of play; the fairer -the play the better we like it. Otherwise, so -indefinite is the nature of round-arm bowling, -that I never yet saw a match about which the -discontented might not find a pretext for a -wrangle.” I am happy to add, in the year 1850, -the M.C.C. passed a <i>resolution</i> to enforce the -law of fair delivery. The violation of this law -had, we know, become almost conventional; this -convention the M.C.C. have now ignored in -the strongest terms; they have cautioned their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> -umpires, promised to support them in an independent -judgment, and daily encourage them in -the performance of their unpleasant duty. This -is beginning at the right end. To expect a judge -to do that which he believes will be the signal for -his own dismissal is too much.</p> - -<p>The absurdity of having a law and breaking it, -is obvious; so let me insist on a newer argument, -namely, that “to indulge a bowler in an unfair -delivery is mistaken kindness, for the fairest horizontal -delivery, like Cobbett’s and Redgate’s, tends -most to that spin, twist, quick rise, shooting and -cutting, and that variety after the pitch in which -effective bowling consists.” A throw is very easy -to play—as it comes down, so it bounds up: the -batsman feels little credit due, and the spectator -feels as little interest. The ball leaves the hand at -once without any rotatory motion, and one ball of -the same pitch and pace is like another. Very -different is that life and vitality in the ball as it -spins away from the skimming and low delivery -of a hand like Cobbett’s. The angle of reflection -is not to be calculated by the angle of incidence -one in ten times, with such spinning balls. That -rotatory motion which makes a bullet glance -instead of penetrating—that causes the slowly-moving -top to fly off with increased speed when -rubbing against the wall—that determines the -angle from the cushion, and either the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> “following” -or the “draw back” of a billiard ball—that same -rotation round its own axis, or the same spin, which -a cricket ball receives in proportion as the hand is -horizontal and the bowling lawful, determines the -variety of every ball of a similar pace and pitch, -at least when the ground is true.</p> - -<p>Whether precision and accuracy are as easily -attained with a low as with a high delivery, is -another question; neither should I be surprised -nor sorry if fair delivery necessitated a wider -wicket. A higher wicket would favour rather -rough ground than scientific bowling; but a wider -wicket would do justice to that spin and twist, -which often is the means of missing the wicket -which with better luck might have been levelled. -Amateurs play cricket for recreation—as a pleasure, -not a business—and experience shows that any -alteration which would encourage the practice of -bowling would greatly improve cricket. In country -matches, bowlers stipulate for four balls or six; -why not make matches to play with a wicket -of eight inches, or even twelve? I had rather -see a ball go anywhere than into the long-stop’s -hands, or into the batsman’s face. So, give us fair -bowling and a wider wicket, and let amateurs have -the gratification of seeing the bowlers, on whom -the science of the game and the honour of victory -chiefly depends, no longer “given” men to play<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> -the game for them, but the fair representatives of -their own club or their own county.</p> - -<p>XI. “He may require the striker at the wicket -from which he is bowling, to stand on that side of -it which he may direct.”</p> - -<p>Query. Can a bowler give guard for one side -of the wicket and bowl the other? No law -(though law XXXVI. may apply) plainly forbids -it; still, no gentleman would ever play with such -a bowler another time.</p> - -<p>XII. “If the bowler shall toss the ball over the -striker’s head.” As to wide balls, some think there -should be a mark, making the same ball wide to a -man of six feet and to a man of five. With good -umpires, the law is better as it is. Still, any -parties can agree on a mark for wide balls, if they -please, before they begin the game.</p> - -<p>“Bowl it so wide.” These words say nothing -about the ball pitching more or less straight and -turning off afterwards: the distance of the ball -when it passes the batsman is the point at issue.</p> - -<p>XVI. Or if the “ball be held before it touch the -ground.” Query; is it Out, if a ball is caught -rolling back off the tent? If the ball striking the -tent is, by agreement, so many runs, then the ball -is dead and a man cannot therefore be out. Otherwise, -I should reason that the tent, being on the -ground, is as part of the ground. By the spirit of -the law it is <i>not out</i>, by the letter <i>out</i>. But, to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> -avoid the question, the better plan would be not -to catch the ball, and disdain to win a match -except by good play.</p> - -<p>XVIII. “Or, if in striking at the ball, he hit -down his wicket.”—</p> - -<p>“In striking,” not in running a notch, however -awkwardly.</p> - -<p>XIX. “Or, if under pretence of running, or -otherwise.”</p> - -<p>“Or otherwise;” as, for instance, by calling -out, purposely to baulk the catcher.</p> - -<p>XX. “Or, if the ball be struck, and he wilfully -strike it again.”</p> - -<p>“Wilfully strike it again.” This obviously -means, when a man blocks a ball, and afterwards -hits it away to make runs. A man may hit a ball -out of his wicket, or block it hard. The umpire -is sole judge of the striker’s intention, whether to -score or to guard.</p> - -<p>This law was, in one memorable instance, applied -to the case of T. Warsop, a fine Nottingham -player, who, in a match at Sheffield in 1822, as -he was running a notch, hit the ball to prevent it -coming home to the wicket-keeper’s hands. Clarke, -who was then playing, thinks the player was -properly given out. Certainly he deserved to be -out but old laws do not always fit new offences, -however flagrant.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p> - -<p>XXI. “With ball in hand.” The same hand.</p> - -<p>“Bat (in hand);” that is, not thrown.</p> - -<p>XXIII. “If the striker touch.” This applies to -the Nottingham case better than Law XX.; but -neither of these laws contemplated the exact -offence. A ball once ran up a man’s bat, and -spun into the pocket of his jacket; and as he -“touched” the ball to get it out of his pocket, -he was given out. The reply of Mr. Bell on the -subject was, the player was out for <i>touching</i> the -ball—he might have shaken it out of his pocket. -This we mention for the curiosity of the occurrence.</p> - -<p>XXIV. Or, if with any part of his person, &c.</p> - -<p>A man has been properly given out by stopping -a ball with his arm below the elbow. Also a -short man, who stooped to let the ball pass over -his head, and was hit in the face, was once given -out, as before wicket.</p> - -<p>“From it;” that is, the ball must pitch in a -line, not from the hand, but from wicket to -wicket.</p> - -<p>Much has been said on the Leg-before-Wicket -law.</p> - -<p>Clarke and others say that a round-arm bowler -can rarely hit the wicket at all with a ball not -over-pitched, unless it pitch out of the line of the -wickets. If this is true, a ball that has been -pitched straight “would <i>not</i> have hit it;” and a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> -ball that “would have hit it,” could not have been -“pitched straight;” and therefore, it is argued -the condition “in a straight line from it (the -wicket)” should be altered to “in a straight line -from the bowler’s hand.”</p> - -<p>And what do we say?</p> - -<p>Bring the question to an issue thus: stretch a -thin white string from the leg-stump of the -striker’s wicket to the off-stump of the bowler’s -wicket; and let any round-armed bowler (who -does not bowl “over the wicket”) try whether -good length balls, which do not pitch outside -of the said string, will hit the wicket regularly, -that is, of their common tendency and not as “a -break.”</p> - -<p>My firm belief is, that this experiment (with a -bowler and a string) will convince any one that -the two conditions of being out leg-before-wicket -(“straight pitch,” and “would have hit”) cannot, -except by accident, be fulfilled by an ordinary -round-armed bowler; and if so, the law of leg-before-wicket -should require that the ball pitch -straight not from the bowler’s wicket, but straight -from the bowler’s hand.</p> - -<p><i>Objection.</i> “This would make the umpire’s task -too difficult: you would thus make him guess -what was straight from the hand, but he can -actually see what is straight from the wicket.”</p> - -<p><i>Answer.</i> This difficulty is an imaginary one.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> -An umpire must be blind indeed, not to discern -when the ball keeps its natural line from the hand -to the wicket, and when it pitches out of that -line, and then abruptly turns into it. Besides, as -the law now stands, the umpire has the same -difficulty and the same discretion, for how can he -decide the condition, “would have hit,” without -making allowance for the wide arm, and the -“working” of the ball, and bringing the said -objectionable <i>guessing</i> into requisition? The -judgment now proposed for the umpire, is no -difficulty at all, but the judgment he has already -to exercise is a great difficulty indeed. How -often is a batsman convinced, that the ball that -hit him before wicket was making so abrupt a -turn, that it must have missed the wicket, and, -but for that abrupt turn, would never have hit -him at all. I do not believe that of the men given -out “leg before wicket,” one in three are deservedly -out. But, often do we see a wicket saved -by the leg and pads, when both the skill of the -bowler and the blunder of the batsman deserved -falling stumps.</p> - -<p>With these observations, I must leave my -friends to the free exercise of their heads and -hands, feet and faculties, patience and perseverance, -holding myself up to them as an example in one -respect only, that I am not too old to learn, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> -will thankfully receive any contribution, whether -from pen or pencil, that is calculated to enrich or -to illustrate a work, which, I am but too happy -to acknowledge, the community of cricketers have -adopted as their own.</p> - -<p> </p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">London</span>:<br /> -A. and G. A. <span class="smcap">Spottiswoode</span>,<br /> -New-street-Square.</p> - -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRICKET FIELD***</p> -<p>******* This file should be named 52022-h.htm or 52022-h.zip *******</p> -<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> -<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/2/0/2/52022">http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/0/2/52022</a></p> -<p> -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed.</p> - -<p>Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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