by Low, Robert
The following week it was England’s turn to play South Australia at the Oval in the opening match of the tour. Australian commentators had noted that it was perhaps the strongest English team ever to visit Australia and they certainly lived up to their advance billing. The weather helped: it rained heavily the night before the first day and the pitch was damp and slow, conditions which suited the English bowlers. Grace won the toss and put the home side in. The tour opened inauspiciously for the Champion: he dropped the opener Delaney at point before he had scored, but the England bowlers kept things tight all day and dismissed South Australia for 163. George Giffen laboured for two and a quarter hours over 27, and Grace claimed vehemently that he was caught at the wicket before he had scored. It was Grace who eventually held on to another chance off Peel to dismiss his great rival.
When England batted, it was a completely different story: Briggs (91), Stoddart (78) and Read (60) attacked the bowling with style and panache. Indeed, W.G., batting at three, was one of the few failures, being brilliantly caught by Reedman off Giffen for only 2; Giffen had figures of 41–5–152–7 as England scored 323, and then dismissed South Australia for only 98 to win by an innings and 62 runs, with Attewell taking 11–81. The tourists could not have got off to a better start.
On they went to Melbourne, where they arrived on 25 November, to another magnificent welcome. They were driven from the station in carriages, dressed in Lord Sheffield’s colours, to the Victorian Cricket Association’s headquarters where, in Sheffield’s absence (he had stayed on in Adelaide for a day or two), Grace gave a little speech in response to the chairman’s words of welcome. Then they were driven to the Town Hall for a reception by the Lord Mayor of Melbourne. Once again Grace had to perform the task he disliked most, making a speech, and had to do so for the third time that day at luncheon in the Melbourne Cricket Ground pavilion. There he said that if he had known he would have to give so many speeches, he would probably have stayed at home. But, he added, the team he had brought over was the best that had ever left England.
It was probably a relief to get down to some practice on the ground in the afternoon. In the eighteen years since Grace had last seen it, the MCG had been rebuilt and transformed into a stadium that could take forty thousand spectators, and he pronounced himself both impressed and saddened: ‘Where are the grapevines which climbed over the wall and the wooden pavilion, and provided the players with luscious grapes?’ he was reported as asking. ‘Where is that famous well into which a bucket was lowered and players drank copious drafts of icy cold water after practice?’
The Australians, on the other hand, found him little changed. One journalist wrote:
As he walked from the MCC pavilion to the practice-nets, he looked what he is, the king of cricketers, and the personification of robust health and manly strength and vigour. With his flannels on, his giant-like proportions were seen to the fullest advantage, and an old cricketer who saw him here 18 years ago, remarked ‘Why he is just the same as ever, except that his chest has slipped down a little.’ He smote the bowling to all parts of the field, and played on under the powerful rays of a real Australian summer sun as if he throroughly enjoyed himself. Indeed, with his flowing beard, dark features and loose gait, he seemed more like an Australian than an Englishman, and would easily pass for a sun-tanned squatter fresh from the grassy downs of Queensland.
This last was a shrewd observation. Throughout the tour W.G. was subjected to a great deal of criticism by the local press. ‘With the possible exception of Jardine and Larwood no English cricketer ever had such caustic treatment from the press in Australia,’ wrote Australian cricket historian Keith Dunstan. No one could have mistaken Douglas Jardine for an Australian but he, Larwood and W.G. had something else in common: they played cricket like the Australians – hard and with only one object: to win. Did the Australians find that harder to take than being beaten by more self-effacing Englishmen? A century after W.G., Tony Greig and Ian Botham came in for similar treatment, and possibly for the same reason. Like W.G. they could have been mistaken for Australians, and the Australians could not forgive them for it.
The tourists’ second match, against Victoria, followed the pattern of the first. The sun shone down on an exquisite scene, the ladies with their parasols and summer dresses thronging the grandstand. Victoria were shot out for 73 (Sharpe 6–40, Attewell 4–26). At lunch W.G. had to make yet another speech in reply to a toast to the visitors. Just after lunch Lord Sheffield arrived at the ground, to be greeted by the band playing ‘A Fine Old English Gentleman’ and a loud ovation from the crowd. (It is difficult to imagine a peer of the realm getting such a courteous welcome from an Australian crowd nowadays.)
So effective were his bowlers that Grace had no need to turn an arm over himself but he was in good form in the field. ‘W.G., at point, showed wonderful agility, considering his massive frame and age,’ wrote one observer. He was equally impressive with the bat, to the delight of the six thousand spectators. He opened with Abel, his huge figure dwarfing the diminutive Surrey man as they marched to the wicket to a huge ovation. Grace was quickly into his stride with a leg-side four off Trumble and quickly accumulated runs all round the wicket, particularly with his trademark late cuts. He had one stroke of good fortune early on when Morris at third man dropped him, claiming the sun was in his eyes. It was an expensive miss, for Grace proceeded serenely on, reaching his century just before the close.
‘Dr Grace’s cutting was masterful, and his timing and placing up to his best form,’ wrote the Australasian’s reporter. ‘He is, of course, not as quick on his feet as he used to be, and this to some extent affects his strokes, but from first to last his display was very fine, and greatly pleased the public.’ Such was W.G.’s authority that he overrode the 4 p.m. refreshment break. He was of the opinion that there were too many such interruptions in Australian cricket so when the bell went he stayed at the crease, and nobody dared countermand him, to the spectators’ delight.
The following morning W.G. continued untroubled, but at a slower rate against better bowling. At lunch he was 140 not out and the score 258–7. During lunch there were yet more toasts and speeches, including three cheers for Lord Sheffield, who responded ‘with the cultured ease and grace of diction characteristic of the true aristocrat’, according to one awed observer. His speech allowed Grace off with the briefest of interventions, doubtless to his relief. As he walked out to resume his innings before a crowd estimated to have grown to fifteen thousand, the band played ‘See The Conquering Hero Comes’. He struck Worrall over the long-on fence and survived a close run-out call before running out of partners. He had carried his bat for 159 out of 284; the next highest scorer was Lohmann with 39.
His return to the pavilion was amoving occasion. The Australasian reported:
The ovation he met with … was something to be remembered. Cheer after cheer went up from the thousands of throats, and as he gradually approached the gate, the immense throng that gathered there sent up a shout that woke the echoes far and wide, and scared even the cheeky minahs from their accustomed spots upon the green turf. The champion’s face glowed with pleasure as he took off his hat and bent his head in response to the repeated plaudits. It was a stirring scene, and one that will be agreeably remembered for many a day …. Taken altogether his display was admirable, and showed that he is still a perfect master of the art of batting, notwithstanding his age and weight.
The Englishmen made short work of Victoria in their second innings, dismissing them for 104 to win by an innings and 107 runs. The bat W.G. used in his epic innings, made by Arthur Shrewsbury’s firm in Nottingham, survives in Roger Mann’s magnificent private archive in Torquay. The willow has darkened with age (and, who knows, perhaps the effects of the harsh Australian sun) but it still feels beautifully balanced and capable of meting out plenty more punishment
It was not only the Melbourne Cricket Ground that had developed out of all recognition since Grace was last in Australia.
The whole country had taken huge strides forward. The 1873 tourists had been subjected to long and gruelling journeys in primitive means of transport but by 1891 there was an extensive and relatively comfortable rail network which took much of the strain out of travelling. This and a big improvement in the standard of many (but by no means all) pitches undoubtedly helped the English cricketers settle quickly into their best form.
The tour had been harmonious until the party reached Sydney for their next match against New South Wales. The Englishmen had brought an umpire with them, Cotter from Melbourne, but Moses, the NSW captain, declined to let him stand because of the long-standing rivalry between NSW and Victoria, and the start of the match was held up for an hour while Moses and Grace argued about it. Moses had his way in the end: Alfred Shaw agreed to stand instead of Cotter, but the affair left a sour taste.
The match was more hard fought than the previous two, although the tourists emerged victorious by four wickets. On the first day, before a crowd of between seven and eight thousand, NSW were dismissed for 74, Briggs and Lohmann taking nine wickets between them, but England went only 20 runs better. Opening the innings, Grace was badly dropped by Callaway off Turner on 12, but in the next over skyed a ball from Callaway straight up in the air. Turner and the wicket-keeper, Wales, both went for the catch and collided heavily but Turner, though sustaining a nasty facial injury, somehow managed to cling on to the ball, holding it aloft with both hands as he crashed to the ground. Grace declined to leave the crease until the umpire gave him out, for 15.
On the Saturday and Sunday, a total of thirty-three thousand spectators watched NSW set England 153 to win. Grace took an hour to score 19 before being caught and bowled by Turner, and at 88–6 England were in danger of defeat. But canny batting by Lohmann and Peel saw them to victory.
The party now had a swing upcountry for a series of matches against district teams. On these trips Grace liked to get in a spot of hunting or fishing. The Scottish wicket-keeper Gregor MacGregor joined him for an early-morning expedition to hunt hares by the side of the river at Bowral. W.G. suggested to MacGregor that he walk in the reeds near the river to put up any hares that might be hiding there. MacGregor demurred, for fear of the snakes he said were also lurking there. W.G. told him he was talking nonsense, and assured him there were no snakes around. A few minutes later MacGregor spotted a black snake and shot it. Grace pondered and declared: ‘H’m! I don’t think much of this kind of hare-shooting.’ Shortly afterwards, MacGregor bagged another snake. ‘Two black snakes in a hundred yards!’ said W.G. ‘It’s a bit thick. I’m going home!’
On another occasion W.G. and MacGregor went out to shoot kangaroos. W.G. fired at an old ’roo and missed, at which moment a laughing jackass, which was a protected species, gave vent to the sound which gives it its name. W.G. turned to MacGregor and said: ‘I tell you what, Mac – if that blessed critic doesn’t mind his own business I shall shoot him, ten pound fine or not.’
The country games were two-day affairs against teams composed of twenty or twenty-two men. Grace insisted that England should put out twelve in the circumstances. The first game was against a Cumberland XX at Parramatta, when the local bowler Wilson had the distinction of dismissing Grace for a duck. The great man took 4–37 in Cumberland’s second innings and the match petered out in a draw. The standard of the local players was generally very poor. Against a Camden XXII, the English XII totalled 184 on a bumpy wicket, Grace making second-top score with 36, and dismissed the XXII for 54 and 87 to win by an innings and 53 runs.
The party returned to the Sydney area to play a Berrima XXII who had the Englishmen rocking until Grace marched in as an unlikely number ten and stopped the rot with the highest score of 46, supported by the last man, Attewell (31), England finally reaching 155. The locals were dismissed for 77, England replied with 64–7 declared (Grace did not bother to bat) to set Berrima 142 to win, which was predictably well beyond their rustic capabilities and they made 76 all out. The team returned to Melbourne for a tedious drawn game against a local XVI in which Grace made only 9.
The tourists’ last match before the first Test was against twenty men of Ballarat, played over three days, starting on Boxing Day. With the big game only a few days away, there was no more batting at ten for W.G. He took the opportunity to limber up by opening the batting and making a solid 62. He was outshone by Lohmann, batting at eight, who made 106 in a total of 424. The Ballarat batsmen were no match for the English bowlers, and were dismissed for 139 and 151 to lose by an innings and 134 runs. Grace took six wickets in their first innings and had 7–69 in the match.
Perhaps the Englishmen were lulled into a false sense of security by their unbeaten run since the start of the tour and the ease with which they rolled over the country teams. The first Test was a rude awakening. It started on New Year’s Day 1892 and was a remarkable event in every respect. Some sixty-eight thousand people were estimated to have watched it over five days, a world record for a cricket match, ample proof that Grace’s team had succeeded beyond anyone’s wildest dreams in restoring public interest in the game. More than forty-six thousand paid to get in (most of the rest were not gatecrashers, but guests), generating gate receipts of more than £3,000, £2,600 of which went to Lord Sheffield’s team, a magnificent windfall. Many more watched free of charge from the trees in Yarra Park. The scene on the opening day was spectacular, a perfect Australian day, and the Melbourne ground looked magnificent. ‘Felix’ – the Irish-born former Test player Tom Horan – rhapsodised in his column in the Australasian:
I have seen vast gatherings at Kennington Oval, at Old Trafford, at Bramall-lane, and at Trent-bridge; and I can honestly say that in my experience I have never seen any cricket gathering to surpass in picturesqueness and brilliance that which met my gaze on the beautiful M.C.C. enclosure on New Year’s Day.
Australia were captained by the wicket-keeper Jack Blackham, who, like the young W.G., sported an imposing black beard. For the toss, he used a battered old coin which he regarded as lucky and which he had carried around for years. Sure enough, he won this time, causing a suspicious W.G. to toss it several more times to see if it could be ‘fixed’. Once satisfied that all was above aboard, he led out his men to field. Australia made 240, Surrey’s ‘One-Eyed’ John Sharpe taking 6–84, to which England responded with 264. Grace got the innings off to a good start. ‘Felix’ wrote:
W.G. batted in his best trim for 50. His masterful command over almost every class of ball was fully evidenced and his marked decision and excellent timing in making his strokes won the warmest praise. To cover he played with judgment and scientifically, particularly in making late cuts, in which he is a perfect adept, every ball being sent along the grass in true artistic style.
Then McLeod clean bowled Abel and Grace in successive balls.
W.G. became embroiled in more controversy over the dismissal of George Bean, who also made 50, his highest Test score. Bean was caught by William Bruce in the deep, the fielder scooping up the ball inches from the ground. Later in the pavilion, Grace approached Bruce and accused him, in effect, of cheating, because the ball in his opinion had not been cleanly taken. Naturally Bruce stood his ground. ‘Felix’ commented wryly: ‘The umpire was of Bruce’s opinion too, or he would not have given the batsman out.’
The game was turned in Australia’s favour by Alick Bannerman, who batted obdurately for three hours, fifty minutes in the second innings to keep the English bowlers at bay. Eventually he was caught by Grace at point. ‘Never did W.G. hug more closely or fondly any catch than that which the little stonewaller gave him,’ wrote ‘Felix’. Grace was full of admiration for Bannerman’s display, declaring that he would have to be included in a World XI if one were picked there and then.
England were set 213 to win, and while Grace and his opening partner Stoddart were at the wicket the target seemed eminently achievable. Grace was given a ‘life’ by Giffen at short mid-on when he had scored seven, but otherwise looked in total
command and when Blackham failed to stump Stoddart off Trott the odds swung even farther towards an England win.
The pair had put on 60 when Grace drove at Turner, failed to keep the ball down and was beautifully caught by Bannerman for 25. It was the turning point of the match. As had happened so often when W.G. was dismissed, the batting collapsed. Six more wickets fell in quick succession before stumps to leave England reeling on the ropes at 104–7. On the following day the end was not long delayed and Australia won by 54 runs. It was England’s first reverse of the tour and a huge shot in the arm for Australian cricket. Equally, it was a devastating setback for the English party, who had come to take victory for granted. Worried by his bowlers’ lack of penetration, Lord Sheffield suggested cabling for Arthur Mold, the Lancashire fast bowler, to bolster his armoury. On his day Mold was as quick and deadly as anyone in the game, although his action was suspect, and indeed he was forced to abandon the game in 1900 after being no-balled for throwing. Grace resisted Sheffield’s proposal; he believed his side was strong enough to square the series at Sydney.
Meanwhile, the Englishmen had several gentle games – virtually exhibition matches – against Melbourne sides to help them recover from this unexpected blow to their self-esteem. One was a two-day match against a South Melbourne XVI, on that club’s delightful lakeside ground, which the Englishmen declared the prettiest and best-kept they had seen in Australia. Indeed Alfred Shaw was so taken by the sight of yachts on the lake that he was said almost to have burst into poetry. A good crowd, reckoned to be about three and a half thousand, turned up on the first day, and were entertained by the police band as well as the cricketers.