CHAPTER II.

BATTING.

(BY THE HON. R. H. LYTTELTON.)

[Illustration: FIG. 1.--The champion.]

The great and supreme art of batting constitutes to the large majority

of cricketers the most enjoyable part of the game. There are three

especially delightful moments in life connected with games, and only

those who have experienced all three can realise what these moments

are. They are (1) the cut stroke at tennis, when the striker wins

chase one and two on the floor; (2) the successful drive at golf,

when the globe is despatched on a journey of 180 yards; (3) a crack

to square-leg off a half-volley just outside the legs. When once the

sensation has been realised by any happy mortal, he is almost entitled

to chant in a minor key a ‘Nunc Dimittis,’ to feel that the supreme

moment has come, and that he has not lived in vain.

After what has been said in the foregoing chapter we shall here only

touch upon the cricket of the past in so far as seems necessary to make

this dissertation on batting tolerably complete, and shall then proceed

to discuss the principles and science of the art as it now exists.

The shape of the bat in the year 1746--which may be taken as a

beginning, for it was in that year that the first score of a match

was printed and handed down to posterity, at any rate in Lillywhite’s

‘Scores and Biographies’--resembled a thick crooked stick more than a

modern bat.

From the shape of the bat, obviously adapted to meet the ball when

moving along the ground, one may infer that the bowlers habitually

delivered a style of ball we now call a ‘sneak.’ How long this system

of bowling remained in vogue cannot exactly be told. The famous William

Beldham, who was born in 1766, and lived for nearly one hundred years,

is reported by Nyren to have said that when he was a boy nearly all

bowling was fast and along the ground. As long as this was the case it

is probable that the bat was nothing but a club, for if the ball never

left the ground the operative part of the bat would naturally be at

the very bottom, as is usual in clubs. The renowned Tom Walker was the

earliest lob bowler; he probably took to the style late in life, or

about the year 1800, and several bowlers, notably the great E. H. Budd,

raised the arm slightly; but it is believed that the first genuine

round-arm bowlers were William Lillywhite and James Broadbridge, both

of Sussex, who first bowled the new style in 1827. That year was from

this cause a year of revolution in cricket, and the shape of the modern

bat dates from that period. As a rule, up to the year 1800 the style of

batting was back. William Fennex is supposed to have been the inventor

of forward play, and Beldham reports a saying of one Squire Paulett,

who was watching Fennex play: ‘You do frighten me there, jumping out

of your ground.’ The great batsmen of the early era of cricket were

Lord Frederick Beauclerk, Mr. Budd, Beldham, Bentley, Osbaldeston,

William Ward, Beagley, William Lambert, Jem Broadbridge, W. Hooker,

Saunders, and Searle. The great skill of these players, when opposed to

under-hand bowling, was what determined the Sussex players to alter the

style of bowling, and, indeed, it is generally the fact that too great

abundance of runs raises questions as to the desirability of altering

rules.

After the year 1827 the shape of the bat became very like what it is

now, but it was much heavier in the blade and thinner in the handle,

which seems to indicate that the play was mostly of the forward driving

style, and the great exponent of this method of play was the renowned

Fuller Pilch. Anyone who has the opportunity of handling a bat of this

period will find that its weight renders it inconvenient for cutting,

but suitable for forward play. The change from under-hand bowling to

round-arm having been effected by slow developments makes it probable

that the style of play was generally forward until the under-hand

bowling was altogether superseded by round-arm. Some bowlers followed

the new order of things by changing from under to round-arm. Round-arm

bowling was at first less accurate than under-hand, and consequently

all-round hitting greatly developed; and we find Felix, the father of

cutting, who began play in 1828, chiefly renowned for this hit. Scoring

greatly diminished when round-arm bowling was thoroughly established,

and increased again as grounds got better.

Judging from the scores of that day, the best bat in England from 1827

to 1850 was Fuller Pilch, and his scoring would compare favourably with

that of nearly all modern players till 1874, with the exception of W.

G. Grace. He was a tall man, and used to smother the ball by playing

right out forward.

The principle on which his whole play was founded was evidently to

get at the pitch and take care of the ball before breaks, bumps, and

shooters had time to work their devilries. In order to carry out this

method, he used frequently to leave his ground, and consequently the

famous Wm. Clarke always found Pilch a harder nut to crack than any of

his other contemporaries.

Clarke’s slow balls tolerably well up were met by Pilch, who left his

ground and drove him forward with a straight bat. His master appears

to have been the great Sam Redgate, who was fast and ripping, and

who on one occasion got him out for a pair of spectacles, while, on

the other hand, twice in his life he got over 100 runs against Wm.

Lillywhite’s bowling, considered in those days to be an extraordinary

feat. After Pilch, Joseph Guy, of Nottingham, and E. G. Wenman, of

Kent, were considered the best; but several--C. G. Taylor, Mynn, Felix,

and Marsden, for example--scored largely, and they all passed through

a golden age of bowling, namely, about 1839, when Lillywhite, Redgate,

Mynn, Cobbett, and Hillyer all flourished, to say nothing of Sir F.

Bathurst, Tom Barker, and others.

From the year 1855, when Fuller Pilch left off play, to the year 1868,

when W. G. Grace burst on the world with a lustre that no previous

batsman had ever approached, there was, nevertheless, a grand array of

batsmen--among professionals, Hayward, Carpenter, Parr, Daft, Caffyn,

Mortlock, and Julius Cæsar; and among amateurs, Hankey, F. H. Norman,

C. G. Lane, C. G. Lyttelton, Mitchell, Lubbock, Buller, V. E. Walker,

and Maitland. These are a few of the great names. They are, however,

surrounded by several almost as renowned, such as Stephenson, T.

Humphrey, Hearne, Cooper, Burbidge, Griffith, and others; all these, we

think, made this era of the game productive of more exciting cricket

than has been known since. It may seem odd, but the overpowering

genius of W. G. Grace after this time somewhat spoilt the excitement

of the game. His side was never beaten. Crowds thronged to see him

play, all bowling was alike to him, and the record of Gloucestershire

cricket, champion county for some time through his efforts, is the only

instance of one man practically making an eleven for several years.

The other Gloucestershire players will be the first to acknowledge

the truth of this. Gloucestershire rose with a bound into the highest

rank among counties when W. G. Grace attained his position amongst

batsmen, a head and shoulders above any other cricketer. In his prime

Gloucestershire challenged and on one occasion defeated England; when

he declined, Gloucestershire declined; in his old age she shows signs

of renewing her youth, for which all credit is due to young Townsend,

Jessop, Champain, and Board. To return to the period between 1855 and

1868: the greater equality of players made the matches more exciting

and established a keener because more evenly balanced rivalry. The

grounds were not so true as those of to-day, and the matches were not

so numerous; consequently cricketers were not so frequently worn out

by the wear and tear of long fielding and days and nights of travel as

they are now. The long individual scores having been less in number and

at longer intervals, the few great innings were more vividly stamped on

the memory, and it is doubtful if even the modern 200 runs per innings

will survive as historical facts longer than Hankey’s famous innings of

70 against the Players on Lord’s, Daft’s 118 in North _v_ South on the

same ground, and Hayward’s 112 against Gentlemen, also on Lord’s.

The bowling during this period was generally fast or medium, varied

by lobs, but of genuine slow round, like that of Peate, Buchanan,

Alfred Shaw, and Tyler, there was hardly any in first-class matches. To

fast bowling runs come quicker than they do to slow; consequently the

game was of more interest to the ordinary spectator, and there was none

of that painful slowness, in consequence of the extraordinary accuracy

of modern slower bowling, that is so common now, and helps to produce

so many drawn matches. Though now, in the year 1897, the average

bowling pace is slower than it was in the sixties, it is nevertheless

faster than it was in the seventies. The professionals had literally

only one genuine slow round-arm bowler in those days--George Bennett,

of Kent--and of course this fact accounted largely for the batting

style of the period. Wickets being often rough, the most paying length

for fast bowling was naturally that length which gave the ground most

chance, and prevented the smothering style of play--a little shorter

than the blind spot, compelling back play over the crease, instead

of forward play. The best batsmen were great masters of this style

of play, with which the name of Carpenter is strongly identified. To

modern players the sight of Carpenter or Daft dropping down on a dead

shooter from a bowler of the pace of George Freeman or Jackson was a

wonderful one; but it is rapidly becoming a memory only, for in these

days a shooter may be said not to exist. Now, in 1897, a wonderful

feature of our great fast bowlers--pre-eminently Richardson--is not

that they bowl straighter than Freeman or Jackson, but that they

never bowl a ball on the legs or outside the legs. The result is that

orthodox leg hitting, and in particular the smite to long-leg with a

horizontal bat, and much nearer the ground than a square-leg hit, is

never seen. During the entire progress of a match nowadays, between

Notts and Lancashire, or Yorkshire and Notts, the unhappy batsman will

not get a single ball outside his legs to hit. So great is the accuracy

of the bowling, that over after over will go by, and not even a ball

on his legs will soothe his careworn and anxious brain. This accurate

bowling has caused another change in the way of batting. As no ball is

bowled on the leg side at all, so it consequently follows there is no

fieldsman on the on side except a forward short-leg and a deep field.

The batsman therefore waits till the bowler slightly overtosses a

ball--whether pitched outside the off stump or on the wicket he cares

not; he sweeps it round to square leg, where no fieldsman stands, and

he makes four runs by the hit. In other words, he deliberately ‘pulls’

it. Twenty years ago, on seeing such a hit, the famous Bob Grimston

would have shown his emphatic disapproval in a characteristic manner.

But the match must be won by runs; to attain this object the ball must

be hit where there is no field, and it is useless to waste energy by

hitting the ball to every fieldsman on the off side.

W. W. Read, Stoddart, and F. S. Jackson are all masters of this stroke,

which revives the drooping attention of the crowd and relieves the

monotony of the scorers. To all fast bowling the cut is a hit largely

in vogue, and the perfection to which some players arrive with regard

to this stroke is a joy to themselves and to the spectators. It is, of

course, as will be explained later on, much easier to cut fast bowling

than slow, and the heroes of the cut whenever fast bowling is on are,

and were, always numerous.

The champion cutter of old times, by universal testimony, was C. G.

Lyttelton, whose hits in the direction of point are remembered by

spectators to this day. Tom Humphrey, of Surrey, was another great

cutter; and there was a player, not of the first rank, who was famous

for this hit--namely, E. P. Ash, of the Cambridge University Eleven,

1865 and 1866.

The five champion bats of this era--1855 to 1868--were, in the opinion

of the writer, Hayward, Carpenter, Parr, Daft, and R. A. H. Mitchell.

The scoring of Hayward and Carpenter between 1860 and 1864 was very

large; both excelled on rough wickets, and it is on these wickets that

genius exhibits itself.

In all times of cricket, until the appearance of W. G. Grace, there

has been a large predominance of skill amongst the professionals

as compared with the amateurs. We are talking now of batting; in

bowling the difference has been still more to the advantage of the

professionals. The Gentlemen won a match now and then, but their

inferiority was very great. W. G. Grace altered all this; and from 1868

to 1880 the Gentlemen had a run of success which will probably never

be seen again. It was entirely owing to him, though the Players were

astonishingly weak in batting from 1870 to 1876; but nothing could

stop the crack, and his scoring in the two annual contests was simply

miraculous.

We will now attempt to lay before our readers a more detailed

exposition of the principles which ought to govern sound batting, and

a careful observance of which is found in the method of every sound

player. The first consideration is the choice of a bat, and as to this

each individual must determine for himself what is the most suitable.

It is probable that a strong man will prefer a heavier bat than a

batsman of less muscular calibre. In any case the style of play is an

important consideration, but the secret of all batting, and especially

hitting, is correct timing; this is a quality which cannot be taught,

but this is what makes a weak man hit harder than a strong man--the one

knows exactly the fraction of a second when all that is muscular, all

that he has got in wrist and shoulders, must be applied, the other does

not.

At the beginning of this century, when the bowling was fast

under-hand, the bat used was of a style suitable for meeting such

balls--namely, a heavy blade with great weight at the bottom; for,

as already mentioned, the bowling being straight and frequently on

the ground, driving was the common stroke, and for this a heavy blade

is best adapted. So now, if a player finds that he does not possess

a wrist style of play, but a forward driving game, he will probably

choose a heavier bat than the wrist-player; for a forward drive is more

of a body stroke--that is, the whole muscular strength of the shoulders

and back is brought into use, and the ball, being fully met, gives

more resistance to the bat than a ball which is cut. This, perhaps,

needs a little explanation. Just consider for a moment, and realise

the fact that a tolerably fast ball, well up and quite straight, has

been delivered. Such a ball is just the ball that ought to be driven.

The batsman lunges forward and meets it with very nearly the centre of

his bat, just after the ball has landed on the ground, at the time,

therefore, when, if there is any spin on it, it is going at its fastest

pace. Obviously, therefore, when the pace and weight of the ball are

taken into consideration, there is great resistance given to the lunge

forward of the bat. The heavier the blade of the bat the better is

it able to withstand and resist the contrary motion of the ball. As

a rule, players are not equally good both at the forward driving and

the wrist-playing games. Some few excel in both, but usually batsmen

have preferences. Now let us examine the cut--of course we are now

discussing a ball on the off side of the wicket. A wrist-player will

cut a ball that the exponent of the driving style would drive, and

therefore meet with the full, or nearly full, bat. The cutter does

not meet the ball, for the ball has gone past him before he hits it.

Take a common long-hop on the off side. The driver meets it with a

more or less horizontal bat, and hits it forward between cover-point

and mid-off, or cover-point and point, thereby resisting the ball and

sending it almost in an opposite direction to its natural course. He

hits the ball some time before it arrives on a level with his body,

while the cutter, on the other hand, does not hit the ball so soon;

in fact, he hits it when it is about a foot in front of the line of

the wicket, sometimes almost on a level with the wicket. He then, with

his wrist, hits it in the direction of third man. He does not meet the

ball at all, but he takes advantage of the natural pace of the ball

and, as it were, steers it from the normal course towards long-stop,

in the direction of third man. The whole essence of the distinction

lies in this fact, that in driving the ball is met directly by the

bat; in cutting this is not so; but the ball is, as it were, helped

on, only in a different direction. The faster the bowling, the harder,

therefore, will be the cut. The reader will at once see from this that

the wrist-player will probably prefer a lighter bat than the driving

batsman, and a bat that comes up well, as it is called, or is more

evenly balanced.

We will now suppose a batsman properly equipped in pads and, at any

rate, one glove on the right hand, and with a bat to his taste; our

next inquiry must be as to his position at the wicket. He must remember

that, after having chosen one position--the most natural and convenient

to him--he ought to adopt that position invariably; not alter it from

day to day. You never see any material alteration in the position of

any great player, and if anyone takes the very necessary trouble to

find out the easiest position, he will be a foolish man who varies

it, as any change must be for the worse. There is an old engraving,

often seen, of a match between Surrey and Kent about the year 1840.

Old William Lillywhite is about to bowl, and Fuller Pilch is about to

play. The attitude and position of Pilch were taken by the author of

‘The Cricket Field’ as a model; and there is no objection to be raised

to the position: it is a fair assumption that it was the natural and

most convenient position for Fuller Pilch himself. The author, however,

goes on to say that this is substantially the attitude of every good

batsman. To this we can only rejoin, that out of the thousands of

batsmen who have played cricket, it would be difficult to find two who

stand exactly alike. To begin with, some stand with their feet close

together, others have them apart; some indeed so far apart that it

almost seems as if they were trying to solve the problem of how much

length of ground can be covered between the two feet. Some stand with

the right foot just on the leg side of a straight line drawn between

the leg-stump of the batsman’s wicket and the off stump of the opposite

wicket; others stand with the right foot twelve inches or thereabouts

from the leg-stump in the direction of short-leg. Players who adopt

this position run a risk of being bowled off their legs, one would

think; but they ought to know best; we should not, however, advise

a beginner to adopt this attitude. W. G. Grace faces the ball, and

there is no intervening space between his hands whilst holding the bat

and his legs. If you look at the position of Pilch, you will see a

considerable interval of distance from the back of his left hand and

the right leg. There were three notable batsmen--namely, A. N. Hornby,

W. Yardley, and F. E. R. Fryer--who used to throw their left leg right

across the wicket so as almost to hide it from the view of the bowler.

[Illustration: FIG. 2.--W. G. Grace ready to receive the ball.]

Mr. A. J. Webbe stoops very much in his position, while some players

stand almost at full height; notably is this the case with W. G. Grace.

There are, as far as we know, only three rules which must be observed

in taking up a position. The first is (1) stand so that no part of the

right foot is in front of the wicket or outside the crease; (2) stand

in the attitude most natural and convenient to yourself; (3) do not

place the toes of the right foot materially nearer the wicket than the

heel. The first rule is essential, for the good player never ought to

move his right foot to fast bowling. If, therefore, any part is in

front of the wicket, he runs a risk of being leg before wicket when the

ball beats the bat; if his foot is outside the crease he is in danger

of being stumped; and if the toes of the right foot are materially

nearer the wicket than the heel, he will find himself in a very awkward

position, unable to get over the ball. Subject to these rules, the

batsman takes any position he pleases. The bat should be held firmly

with the right hand and loosely or comparatively loosely with the left;

neither hand should be tightly clenched. The late Mr. Wm. Ward spoke

the truth when he told a sculptor who had made a statue of a batsman

at guard that he was no cricketer--the wrists were too rigid and hands

too much clenched. It seems that most players lift their bat from the

block-hole while the bowler is running prior to delivering the ball,

and fig. 2 shows W. G. Grace standing just before the ball leaves the

bowler’s hand. His whole position is changed from what it was a few

seconds before. His first position before the bowler has begun his run,

is given in the sketch at the head of the chapter. The figure here

shows him to be standing almost at his full height, his bat suspended

in the air, and his weight if anything thrown rather on his right foot.

Most players, however, take up a position and stick to it, except that

they raise the bat slightly just before the ball leaves the bowler’s

hand. Nature is the best guide. Let every player therefore find out the

easiest attitude and always adopt it.

We will now consider the manner in which the bat should be held by

the hands. This varies in a few trifling particulars with different

players: but in very rare instances is there any substantial

difference. The muscles ought not to be in a state of rigidity, and

whilst the batsman is standing in position waiting for the ball the

bat should be held firmly, but not by any means tightly. The batsman

cannot depend on any particular ball coming to him; consequently, while

the ball is in the air, his mind has to be made up; he has then to set

himself for a stroke determined absolutely by the pace, length, and

direction of the ball, and there are only a few seconds for him both to

make up his mind and make the stroke. There is, no doubt, a scientific,

anatomical reason why quickness of hand and muscles is incompatible

with rigidity of muscle, but quite practicable when the muscles and

sinews are in a natural and easy state of elasticity; but any man will

find this out for himself if he begins to play. Hold the bat, then,

loosely with the left hand, nearly at the top of the handle, with the

back of the hand turned full towards the bowler, the fingers folded

round the handle, and the thumb lying easily between the first and

second fingers. The right hand is fixed exactly contrary to the left as

far as the back and fingers are concerned, for the back is turned away

from the bowler and the fingers are turned towards him. The thumb lies

across and rests on the top of the first finger, touching the finger

about a quarter of an inch from the top on the inside. When any sort of

hit or block is made the bat at that instant is held tightly, and both

thumbs are slightly shifted so as to lie on and clutch, not the fingers

that hold the handle, but the handle itself. Whether the hands are

high up on the handle or low down near the blade depends very much on

the style of the player. There is no rule on the subject, but we think

the old motto, ‘In medio tutissimus ibis,’ is good to observe, and

the middle of the handle is, on the whole, the safest. Some players,

however--notably Mr. Frank Penn, in his day a tremendous off-hitter

and altogether a grand bat--hold the bat with the knuckle of the first

finger of the right hand almost touching the top of the blade; and big

hitters, rather of the slogging order, as a rule hold the bat higher

up, with the left hand almost on the top; in fact, they adopt what may

be called the ‘long-handled style.’ In holding the bat, however, follow

the precept given before--namely, ascertain the most natural method,

and cling to it for your cricketing life.

The actual position at the wicket is the same for both slow bowling and

fast, with perhaps this trifling difference, that the batsman ought

not to stand so firmly on the right foot to slow as he would to fast.

The reason of this will be explained hereafter, when we consider the

right method of playing slow bowling. At present we will confine our

attention to playing fast bowling, and let us assume that the batsman

has taken his natural position with his right toe clear of the wicket

and that a fast right-handed bowler is bowling with hand raised above

the shoulder and over the wicket. This is the method of bowling most

in vogue in these days; in fact, the strict round-arm bowling round

the wicket, with a curl from leg, is for some inscrutable reason now

comparatively rare. Why this is so nobody can tell, and we believe that

some of the present gigantic scoring is partly owing to the absence of

this sort of bowling.

However, the popular method will be the first we shall try and

instruct the batsman to meet successfully, and we will suppose that

the wicket is fast and true. We will begin with laying down one or two

rules that must rigorously be observed by every player if he wishes

to become a first-rate cricketer. (1) _Never move the right foot when

playing fast bowling except to cut, or when you want to pull a very

short ball._ Nobody will ever become a first-rate player if he does

not strictly observe this rule. The spot of ground on which the right

foot rests is the vantage-point from which every batsman has to judge

of the direction of the ball, and if he shifts away from this, all

sorts of faults will crop up, chief of which will be an inability to

play with a straight or perpendicular bat. He will also, if he moves

his right foot towards short-leg--which is the commonest form this

vice takes--find that he will drive balls with a crooked bat to the

off, when from a proper position he would have hit them on the on

side. He will also find himself further removed from the off side,

and quite unable, therefore, to play with a straight bat on the off

stump. These are a few of the faults that come from not keeping the

right foot still. All coaches know that this habit of moving the right

leg is the fault most commonly found in young players, and it is most

difficult to remove. This arises from the fact that the ball is a

hard substance; the beginner naturally dislikes being hit anywhere on

the body, and his first and most powerful instinct is therefore to

run away. But many instincts are base in their nature, and the young

cricketer must realise in this, as in other cases, that the old Adam

must be put away and the new man put on. He will find, as he improves,

that in these days of true wickets he will not often get hit; the bat

will, as a rule, protect him, and if he is hit anywhere on or below

the knee the pads will perform a similar function. If he does get

hit, well, he must grin and bear it, and try to emulate the heroism

of some giants of old in ante-pad-and-glove days, of one of whom, the

famous Tom Walker, we read that he used to rub his bleeding fingers in

the dust, after the Mold of those days had performed a tattoo on his

fingers. (2) Never pull a straight fast ball to leg unless it is very

short and you are well in. If you miss it, you are either bowled out or

else you run a great chance of being given out leg before wicket. The

dead true wickets of these days have no doubt made many more batsmen

proficient at this stroke, but still it is sound to remember that you

must have got thoroughly used to the pace of the ground before you

try this stroke. Ranjitsinhji’s skill at this stroke is marvellous,

but few have such supple wrists. (3) Never slog wildly at a ball

well outside the off stump, but of a good length. This hit also may

occasionally come off, but there is no trap more frequently laid by

modern bowlers. Attewell, for example, bowls it so frequently that ‘the

Attewell trap’ is becoming a stock phrase, and a little consideration

will show how dangerous a stroke it is. A good length ball is one that

it is impossible to smother at the pitch, and if it is outside the

off stump it has to be played with a more or less horizontal bat, if

the slog is attempted. What must be the consequence? The ball is not

smothered, consequently any break, hang, or rise that the bowler or

the ground may impart to the ball must almost inevitably produce a bad

stroke, frequently terminating in a catch somewhere on the off side.

The proper way to play such a ball will be discussed later on, but

under no circumstances must the ball be hit at wildly at the pitch. (4)

Keep the left shoulder and elbow well forward when playing the ball. It

is more important in back play than forward, because in forward play

the ball is, or ought to be, smothered at the pitch, and the value of

the left shoulder being forward is that you are much more master of

the ball if it should happen to bump or hang; besides which, the bat

cannot easily be held straight unless this rule is observed, neither

can the full face of the bat be presented to the ball. In the case of

the shooter, or ball which keeps low after the pitch, the movement of

the left shoulder towards the left or leg side will inevitably make it

more difficult to ground or lower the bottom of the bat.

The art of defence--which is the style of play adapted to stop the

ball, as distinguished from the offensive method, where the object

is to hit the ball so as to obtain runs--may be roughly divided into

forward play and back play. The object of all forward play is to

smother the ball at its pitch; that is to say, the contact of the bat

with the ball must be almost simultaneous with the contact of the ball

with the ground. The player must reach out with a straight bat as near

to the pitch of the ball as is possible. It stands to reason that a

tall man will reach out much further than a short man, and a bowler, if

he is wise, will bowl shorter-pitched balls to a tall man than he will

to a short. Let anybody take a bat and reach forward as far as he can,

keeping the bat, when it touches the ground at the end of the stroke,

slanting so that the top of the handle is nearer to the bowler than

the bottom of the blade. There comes a distance when this slant cannot

be maintained, and the bat has either to be held in a perpendicular

position or with the handle sloping behind the blade and pointing

towards the wicket-keeper. Here, then, we come to an invariable rule,

viz. never play forward to a ball so that you are unable to keep the

bat at the proper slant, with the handle of the bat further forward

than the blade. Also, let every player remember that the left foot

must be placed as far forward as the bottom of the bat, and all play,

whether forward or back, is really between the two feet, or, more

strictly speaking, in forward play the bat must not be put further

forward than the left foot, and in back play not further back than the

level of the right foot.

Some old players may very likely not agree with this precept, and

players of the date of Fuller Pilch constantly had their bat a great

deal further out than the left foot, which used not to be thrown out

so far. Mr. C. F. Buller, again, in his day a magnificent bat, used to

play forward in the same style. But let anyone take a bat and throw out

his left foot to the fullest extent; he will find that the bat ought

not to go any further if the proper slant be maintained, and he will

find also that he has greater command over the ball in this position

than in Fuller Pilch’s. Look at the position in fig. 3, and you will

see that the bat has come down strictly on a level with the left foot.

That a greater command is obtained by this method cannot be proved

in writing, but anyone who tries the old and the new style will find

that the new is preferable as far as command of the ball is concerned.

We are not implying that the great players of the old style were bad

players because they played in the contrary way, for great players

rise above rules and play by the force of their greatness; but we are

chiefly concerned with the ordinary mortal, and our advice is, throw

the left leg right out and play to the level of the left foot. Some

good players maintain that, as the shooter comes so seldom nowadays,

it is wasting power to ground the bat when playing forward, it being

sufficient if it is placed according to circumstances, varying with the

state of the ground. This is no doubt true when the wickets are hard,

but if the miraculous should happen and a shooter come, the batsman is

out, and on soft wickets they still come. Fig. 3 illustrates grounding

the bat in forward play, and fig. 14, at the end of this chapter,

illustrates playing forward without grounding.

[Illustration: FIG. 3.--Forward play.]

The ball which is too short for the player to play forward to with his

bat at the proper slant must be played back and not forward. To be a

good judge of a ball’s length is a source of strength in any player,

and a strictly accurate player seldom makes the mistake of playing

forward when he ought to play back, and _vice versâ_. In cricket,

however, poor human nature is apt to err oftener perhaps than in most

walks of life, and the question may now be asked, What is the batsmen

to do when he finds himself playing forward, but unable to smother the

ball at the pitch? He has made a mistake; how is he to get out of the

difficulty? Let it be remembered that we are at present only concerned

with a fast and true wicket, the play on a slow tricky wicket being so

different that it will be noticed separately.

Let us assume, then, that the batsman is forward in the position here

shown, but that he finds he cannot reach far enough to smother the ball

at the pitch. On a fast wicket there is no time to rectify the error

by getting back and playing the ball in the orthodox manner; and yet

the batsman must do something or he will be bowled out. There are three

courses open to him. (1) He must trust to Providence and a good eye,

and take a slog, or adopt what a humorous cricketer once called ‘the

closed-eye blow,’ in which case, if hit at all, the ball will probably

be hit into the air, but perhaps out of harm’s way, or, as is quite as

likely, into a fielder’s hands. The famous E. M. Grace, who is blessed

with as good an eye as any cricketer, frequently plays this stroke with

success. (2) He may adopt what lawyers would call the cy-près doctrine;

in other words, though he ought to play forward and smother a ball,

he may at the same time play forward and not smother the ball, which

may hit the bat nevertheless. The dangers of this play are obvious

to every cricketer, for it leaves him at the mercy of the ball that

bumps, hangs, or turns. Modern grounds are so good that this stroke

is far safer than it used to be; for in the majority of instances the

ball comes straight on, and only the experienced observer sees that

the batsman comes off with flying colours owing to the excellence of

the ground rather than to his skill. (3) He may, after he has got

forward and perceived his error, effect a compromise and perform what

is sometimes called a ‘half-cock stroke.’ This stroke does not require

a violent shuffling about of the legs and feet, which are placed as

they would be while playing forward, but, instead of the arms and

hands reaching forward, they are brought back so as to hold the bat

quite straight over, or a little in front of, the popping crease. This

position and style of play may be observed in fig. 4, and it is worth

a careful examination; for, in our opinion, it is the proper way for a

man to extricate himself out of the difficulty he has been led into by

misjudging the length of the ball. Nobody can play a ball in this way

more skilfully than W. G. Grace, and the figure shows him in the act

of thus playing to a ball which is on the blind spot--that is, either

adapted for forward or back play, and therefore eminently qualified for

over the crease play, a compromise between the two. The merit of this

style of play is that it gives the batsman time to watch the ball, and

if it should bump or turn he may alter his tactics to meet it, whereas

by the second method his play is fixed and cannot be altered, and the

awkward hanging, bumping, or twisting ball beats him. Practise by all

means this half-cock stroke; on fast grounds it may be found more

useful than even the orthodox back play; for in back play, unless the

ball is very short, the pace of the ground may beat a man, especially

when he first goes in and has not got accustomed to the pace. The

golden rules to guide the beginner in playing forward may be very

briefly stated. (1) Play forward when the ball is fairly well pitched

up, but remember that the faster the bowling and the faster the wicket

the more frequently will forward play be the safer style of play.

(2) Keep the bat quite straight and the left shoulder and elbow well

forward. (3) Get as near to the pitch of the ball as possible. (4) Do

not put the bat further forward than the level of the left foot, which

ought to be thrown right forward.

[Illustration: FIG. 4.--‘Half-cock’ or over the crease play.]

It is often a doubtful question whether a straight drive forward is

what is technically a drive or hit, or mere forward play. Of course,

when the batsman is well set he may hit as hard as he can to a straight

half-volley; but there are many players whose forward play is so

powerful that it practically amounts to a drive. Stoddart’s forward

play frequently makes mid-off tremble, and the same used to be said of

Ford and several other players.

But to the beginner again: until you are well set, do not let all your

strength go out to any straight ball; if you do, you will lose more

than you gain. On Lord’s, for instance, a hit over the ropes can only

realise four, the same as a hit under the ropes; you will very likely,

therefore, score as many for a straight hard bit of forward play as you

will for a regular swipe.

When the art of back play to fast bowling is discussed, the converse

of what has been said about forward play is true, viz. that as the

faster the ground the more balls ought to be played forward, so

under the same circumstances will fewer balls be played back. As a

general rule, it may be observed that strong-wristed players play more

back than batsmen who play chiefly with their arms and shoulders. A

weak-wristed player playing back on a very fast wicket will frequently

be late, and either miss the ball altogether or else half-stop it,

in which latter case it may dribble into the wicket. The value of a

strong wrist is that the batsman can dab down on a ball and do the feat

in a far shorter space of time than a shoulder-and-arm player. The

difference between a strong wrist and a weak wrist in playing back is

a little similar to what is observed in an altogether different line.

Look at a great underbred cart-horse with a leg like a weaver’s beam,

and then look at the real thoroughbred with its slim proportions; at

first sight it appears that a kick from the cart-horse will inflict

much greater damage than a kick from the thoroughbred. People who

are learned in horses, however, inform us that the contrary is the

case, and the greater weight of the leg of the cart-horse is more

than counterbalanced by the far more rapid and sudden movement of the

thoroughbred. The bat wielded by a player with a strong wrist goes

through the air like lightning, and comes down on the ball far quicker

and harder than a ponderous stroke from the arms and shoulders of the

batsman with no wrist action. Perhaps the champion back-player of the

century was Robert Carpenter, of Cambridgeshire and United All England

renown, whose back play on Lord’s to the terrific fast bowling of

Jackson and Tarrant will never be forgotten by those who beheld it.

[Illustration: FIG. 5.--‘Back play’ to a bumping ball.]

A back style of play does not smother the ball at the pitch, but

plays at the ball when its course after contact with the ground is

finally determined, and a careful watching of the ball is therefore of

the highest importance. It is bad ever to assume that, because a ball

has pitched on a line with the off stump, therefore you are safe if you

protect the off stump only, on the assumption that the ball is going on

straight. The ball may break back, and in order to ascertain that it

has done so, and to shift your bat to guard the middle and leg stumps,

you must carefully watch the ball. Apart from breaking or curling, the

ball may shoot or bump; in either case the batsman has only his eye to

guide him, and the wrist has to obey the eye. Fig. 5 represents ‘back

play’ to a bumping ball. Sometimes a ball may be so short that if the

batsman has got his eye well in, and is thoroughly accustomed to the

pace of the ground, he may by a turn of the wrist, keeping the left

shoulder and elbow well forward, steer the ball through the slips. The

beginner, however, must be careful to attempt nothing but the orthodox

forms of play; he is not W. G. Grace or Shrewsbury and such-like, who,

in their turn, do not attempt exceptional feats until they are well

set. The ball ought to be met with the full face of the bat, and under

no circumstances ought the ball to be allowed to hit the bat, which

must be the propeller, not the propelled. Mind to respect and carefully

follow out the two great commandments--never to move the right foot,

and to keep the left shoulder forward and left elbow up. The number of

hours that a youngster has to be bowled at before that fatal right foot

can be relied upon to keep still is prodigious; but the bat cannot be

straight if the body is gravitating towards the direction of short leg

while the ball is in the air. To a very short ball different methods

of play may be adopted. The one alluded to above, the steering of the

ball through the slips, is not often attempted, and a safer method

would be to try and come heavily down on the ball and force it past

the fields for two or three runs. This is a safe stroke, much safer to

adopt than the other. The bat must be straight, and it is wise not to

let your whole strength go out, for one or two contingencies may arise

for which the player ought to be prepared. In the first place, the ball

may shoot, and the crisis must be met accordingly. Now, if the whole of

the strength and all the faculties of a batsman are bent towards the

carrying out of one particular stroke, there will be no reserve left to

provide for any other contingency, for the muscles will be wholly set

for one stroke, and one stroke only, and the player will infallibly be

late if the ball should keep a little low. Of course, on a great many

grounds in these days the chances of such contingencies are reduced

almost to a minimum on account of the excellence of modern wickets; but

still we have to inform the reader what _may_ happen, not only what

happens commonly. Some few players rise superior to grounds, and though

of course they can get many more runs on easy wickets, still they show

good cricket when the wicket is in favour of the bowler.

The prevalence of easy wickets is not, in our opinion, an unmixed

blessing. You may go and watch a match when the ground is as hard as

iron and as true as truth, and see a magnificent innings played by some

batsman. The same player on a bowler’s wicket is not less uncomfortable

than the proverbial fish out of water. A man may be a lion on a lawn,

but a mere pigmy when the ground is not a lawn. There are a great

many of these lions on lawns in these days, and to hear them all with

one consent begin to make excuse when they have been bowled out on a

crumbling wicket is very amusing. The ball hung, or it kept low, or

‘broke back a foot, I assure you, dear boy. W. G. in his best days

wouldn’t have been near it.’ In his best days, and almost in his worst,

Mr. Grace would have often played it, and so would Steel, Shrewsbury,

and one or two others--planets among the stars, to watch whom getting

thirty runs out of a total of eighty on a difficult wicket is far more

enjoyable to a skilled spectator than to see the hundreds got on ABC

wickets. The chances that on a hard smooth wicket the very short ball

will do anything abnormal is, nowadays, reduced to a minimum. But still

it may happen, and it is therefore wise to have in reserve a little

strength and a little elasticity. You can play very hard, nevertheless,

and for this hard forcing stroke off a short straight ball W. Yardley,

the late B. Pauncefote, H. C. Maul, and F. G. J. Ford have never been

surpassed.

The ball most to be dreaded for the forcing stroke is the hanging

ball, which stops and does not come on evenly and fast to the bat. The

batsman will fail to time the ball, with the almost certain consequence

that the bat will go on and the ball will be hit from underneath, and

up it will go. The advice that has been given to keep a slight reserve

of strength to provide against such contingencies as the hanging ball

has the same force now. If you have not altogether let the whole force

go out, you will have a better chance of doing the correct thing to a

ball of this description--namely, to drop the bat and allow the ball

to hit it, the exact opposite of your original intention. This is an

exception to the general rule that the bat should hit the ball, and not

the ball the bat.

In all cases a quick and correct eye will enable its owner to come out

of the difficulty with flying colours, and any rules that may be laid

down will be utterly useless to him who puts his bat just where the

ball is _not_, but where his inaccurate eye thinks it is. If a youth

with the best intentions, but with a false and crooked eye, after

reading and thoroughly comprehending every rule directing how every

ball ought to be played, stands up and tries to play cricket, what

will be the result? He may even have courageously learnt to pin his

right foot firmly to the ground; but, notwithstanding this, the result

of his efforts will be that, though all proper and necessary postures

may be assumed, he will be bowled out, for the bat, except by a lucky

chance, will always be in the wrong place, though held quite straight.

If cricket could be played with no ball, the careful eyeless cricketer

would shine; but the introduction of that disturbing element dashes all

his hopes to the ground.

There is a ball that in these days more frequently than any other

succeeds in bowling people out, and that is the familiar ‘tice’ or

‘yorker.’ This is nothing else than a ball right up, that pitches in

fact near the block-hole, but is not a full pitch. This ball ought to

be met by the bat just when it touches the ground, and the bat ought

to come down very heavily on the ball. It is a little difficult to

understand why this ball is so frequently fatal, as it comes straight

up and only requires a straight bat and correct timing. Probably most

batsmen hope that the eagerly-looked-for half-volley has at length

come; this induces them to lay themselves out for a smite, and when

they see their mistake it is too late to alter the tactics. Others, on

the contrary, think that a full-pitch is coming, and advance their bat

to meet it; the result is, the ball gets underneath it. In fact, the

length of the ball is not correctly judged, and the batsman is caught

in two minds. A bowler who is in the habit of sending down ‘yorkers’ is

fond of doing so the first ball after a new batsman comes in, and if

a batsman is known to be of a nervous temperament there is no better

ball to give in the first over. It may be here said, however, that it

is next door to impossible to bowl a ‘yorker’ to some batsmen. W. G.

Grace, for instance, seems always to be able to make a full-pitch of

this ball, and a fourer often results. It is obvious that if a ball

pitches near or on a level with the block-hole when the batsman is

standing still, it ought to be easy to make it a full-pitch by stepping

out to meet it. Mr. Grace does this even to fast bowling.

Having endeavoured to the best of our ability to enunciate a few

principles as to defensive tactics, we will now try and discuss

offensive tactics, or hitting. A curious feature of the present day

is that new hits have come into existence. These have not sprung up

because they were not occasionally brought off in earlier days, but

formerly when they were the batsman used to apologise to the bowler

for having wounded his feelings, and a sort of groan used to be heard

all round, as if there had been some gross violation of a cricket

commandment. The grounds have improved to such an extent that bowlers

have had to resort to new tactics to effect the grand object of all

bowlers--namely, to get wickets.

A fast bowler has one system of tactics, a medium and slow bowler

another. On hard level wickets a fast bowler in these days is very apt

to bowl short on the off stump and try and make the ball bump, and to

cram a lot of fields in the slips, while the wicket-keeper stands back.

The sort of ball that bowls a man out is frequently a ‘yorker.’ This

is not the perfection of bowling, it is a bad style that the modern

perfect wicket has caused to come in. A bowler who keeps a splendid

length with really scientific methods, like Hearne, has his reward in

uncertain weather and on catchy wickets, but the baked smooth wickets

of modern-day cricket produce such bowlers as Jessop and Jones the

Australian, who mainly bowl for catches in the slips--and who can blame

them? Slow bowlers have to sacrifice accuracy and length to get twist

or break like Trott, the Australian captain, and Hartley the Oxonian,

and Wainwright; this is also because the perfect wickets will not allow

the combination of length and break. So the bowlers have to cultivate

an abnormal break, which cannot be done without the sacrifice of length.

[Illustration: FIG. 6.--Gunn cutting.]

Of all hits, the most fascinating to the intelligent spectator is the

cut. This requires a very strong use of the wrist, and, like all wrist

strokes, charms the spectator by accomplishing great results at the

expense of apparently little effort. Cricket reporters of the present

day are very apt to call any hit that goes in any direction between

cover-point and long-slip a cut, and thereby make the term include both

snicks and off drives. This is a mistake, as nearly every cricketer

can sometimes make an off drive, and all can snick the ball, even the

worst; indeed, with some it is the only stroke they seem to possess,

but there are many who have hardly ever made a genuine cut in their

lives. The real genuine cut goes to the left side of point--assuming

that point stands on a line with the wicket--it is made with the right

leg thrown over, and its severity depends largely on the perfectly

correct timing of the ball. The ball is hit when it has reached a

point almost on a line with the wicket, and the length of the ball is

rather short; if far up, it is a ball to drive and not to cut. The bat

should hit the ball slightly on the top, and the most correct cutting

makes the ball bound before it gets more than six yards from the

player. Figs. 6 and 7 show Gunn and Shrewsbury in the position proper

for cutting. It is a mistake to suppose that the right leg should be

thrown over a long way; it is sufficient if the foot be put in front

of the off stump. When the player is well in and has thoroughly got

the pace of the ground, he very often makes what may be called a clean

cut; that is to say, he hits with a bat quite horizontal to the ball,

and not over it. This produces a harder hit, as the force is wholly

directed towards sending the ball in the proper direction, and not hard

on the ground. It is not so safe, because, if the ball should bump, the

bat, not being over the ball, may hit its lower side and send it up.

Therefore be careful to hit over, and sacrifice some of the severity,

if you wish to play a safe game.

[Illustration: FIG. 7.--Shrewsbury cutting.]

Some careful players would hit over the ball even after they have

scored one hundred runs, and we have never seen Shrewsbury, for

instance, cut in any other way. In the figure the ball must be

presumed to lie rather low, for it is certain that he is following his

invariable custom of getting over the ball. In any case we should never

recommend the clean cut to any but the best players, and that only on a

perfect wicket and when they are well set. If you are in the position

to cut and the ball should bump, it is wise to leave it alone, for the

danger of being caught at third man is very great. We have seen lusty

hitters get right under a bumping off ball and send it high over third

man’s head, but it is a perilous stroke, and is not correct cricket. If

the ball, on the other hand, keeps a bit low after the pitch, it is a

most effective stroke to come heavily down on it; if the force is put

on the ball at the right moment it will go very hard, and may be called

a ‘chop.’ Messrs. K. J. Key and O’Brien, who are strong players from

every point of view, excel at this stroke, and they hit the ground at

the same time as the ball with a great power of wrist. It is useless

for anybody to hope to cut well unless he has both a strong wrist and

the power of timing.

The question now arises, What is the player with a weak wrist to do

with a ball that a strong-wristed man cuts? Some would say that if

he cannot cut in the orthodox vigorous way he ought at any rate to

go as near to it as he can, and if he cannot make a clean cut for

four, at least he should content himself with two. We think, however,

there is for such players a more excellent way. In the cut we have

been describing the right foot is shifted across: suppose the player

now moves his left foot, not across, but simply straight forward to a

ball that is in every way suitable to cut; let him then wait till the

ball has gone just past his body, and then hit it with the full force

of his arms and shoulders and with as much wrist as he has got. The

ball will naturally go in the same direction as the orthodox cut, and

quite as hard. The player must stand upright, and must especially be

careful not to hit the ball before it has passed his body. If he does

this off a fast long hop, he will bring off a vulgar sort of stroke,

which cannot go so hard as the ball hit later, because there is greater

resistance to the bat; in the correct way the bat hits the ball partly

behind it and, as it were, helps it on in its natural course, whereas

at the incorrect moment the ball has to be thumped in order to send it

in an exactly opposite direction from that in which it is going before

meeting the bat.

In our judgment coaches ought to teach all beginners this stroke

whenever they find weakness of wrist. The body is put in such a way as

to compensate for a weak wrist, and if anyone takes up this position

with a bat in his hand he will find that the stroke partakes of the

qualities of a drive more than of a cut. Young players are generally

rather impatient, and very apt to hit the ball before it reaches the

level of the body, and this fault must be removed.

[Illustration: FIG. 8.--Old-fashioned sweep to leg. (Gunn.)]

Let us now discuss the leg hit--most glorious of hits--where every

muscle of the body may safely be exerted; for if you miss it the ball

is not straight, so you cannot be bowled, and the harder the hit the

less chance is there of being caught, at any rate in first-class

matches in these days of boundaries. Bowling having become more

accurate, there is not half so much leg hitting now as there used to

be, and in the present day you hardly ever hear of a batsman known for

his hitting as George Parr was formerly, as also Mr. R. A. H. Mitchell,

and several others.

There are plenty of men who can hit to leg, but in these days they

do not often get a chance, and it is a rare event nowadays to see any

fieldsman standing at the old-fashioned position of long-leg. There is

generally a field stationed against the ropes to save four byes when

a fast bowler is on, who can also stop leg snicks from going to the

ropes; but, to carry the illustration farther, as in leg hitting there

is no George Parr, so in fielding at long leg there is no Jack Smith

of Cambridge. It is rapidly dying out. In a match which we ourselves

saw at Sheffield in 1887, between Notts and Yorkshire, for a whole day

and a half there was not one genuine leg smack except off lobs, and at

no time was a field placed there. This is hard for the batsman, but it

is even harder for the spectators, who love to see a grand square-leg

hit. George Parr’s leg hit, for which he was unrivalled, was the sweep

to long-leg off a shortish ball that many modern players would lie

back to and play off their legs. George Parr would extend his left leg

straight forward, and sweeping round with a horizontal bat, send the

ball very hard, and frequently along the ground. This hit has really

totally disappeared in these days. When George Parr played he used to

punish terrifically bowlers like Martingell, of Surrey and Kent, who

relied on a curl from leg and bowled round the wicket--a most effective

style, naturally producing, however, many leg balls. It is all the

other way now, and it may be taken for certain that for every leg ball

you see now in first-class matches you saw ten or twenty in former

days. However, young players in schools are certain to get plenty of

convenient balls to hit, so they must remember to throw out the left

leg and hit as near to the pitch as possible and as hard as they can.

The ball may start in the direction of square-leg, but its natural bias

after it has gone a certain distance will be towards long-leg or behind

the wicket, and the fieldsman must remember this, or he will find the

ball fly away behind him on his right side. Be very careful never to

try this stroke to balls that are on the wicket, or even nearer the

wicket than four inches at least. If it is within that distance it is

a ball to drive, and not to hit to leg. Fig. 8 shows Gunn carrying

out this stroke, and the batsman may put his left leg in front of the

wicket if he is certain the ball did not pitch straight. This hit

ought only to be attempted when the ball is short of a half-volley. If

the ball is a half-volley or at any rate well up, the proper hit is

in front of the wicket or to square-leg, and with a vertical, not a

horizontal bat. In this hit, how far to throw out the left leg depends

on the length of the ball; the batsman may even sometimes have to draw

it back a little and stand upright and face the ball if it is well up.

There is no hit that can be made harder than this to square-leg, and

there have been many records of gigantic square-leg hits. Some hitters

have sent the ball as far by the lofty smack straight over the bowler’s

head, but more batsmen can generally hit farther to square-leg, and

only a short time ago Mr. Key sent a ball right out of the Oval. In

years gone by Lord Cobham and R. A. H. Mitchell were renowned for their

square-leg hitting, as was Carpenter also. There is no very special

rule to be observed for this hit, except that the ball must be on the

legs or just outside them, and not straight, or within four or five

inches of the leg stump. If the ball is tolerably wide on the leg

the bat will be more horizontal as it hits the ball, which will in

consequence go sharper, and _vice versâ_, if the ball is just crooked

enough to hit; it will, when hit, go more straight, and be called by

the cricket reporters an ‘on drive,’ though it is a square-leg hit.

Fig. 9 is supposed to represent W. G. Grace hitting to square-leg, and

the reader must assume that the fieldsman is running to field the ball

going on a line or in front of the wicket, and not behind it.

[Illustration: FIG. 9.--Square-leg hit. (W. G. Grace.)]

Some players there are who never seem to hit at any ball, but push

it all along the ground, and for this purpose they get farther over

the ball, and simply use the weight of the body, using the arms and

shoulders but little.

This is an eminently safe game, but to these players we would only

observe that they deprive themselves of the glorious sensation,

alluded to at the beginning of this chapter, which comes when a ball

is hit with all the force that nature can supply and a fine driving

bat can supplement. Cricket is a game; the primary object of games is

to give pleasure to the players, and it is quite impossible that the

same amount of keen gratification can await the stick who never hits

as is realised by the man who, though he may only be at the wickets

half the time, yet in that time makes at least ten great hits that

will realise forty runs. There is, however, a good length ball on the

legs to which this push can be usefully applied if the batsman is one

of the numerous class of cricketers who cannot make use of the sweep

to leg. This stroke is made by slightly moving out of the ground, or

rather, the whole weight of the body being inclined forward the right

foot is dragged forward also. This may seem to violate a cardinal

rule laid down before--that the right foot should never be moved. It

must be remembered that the reasons why the right foot should not be

moved mainly apply when the foot is moved in front of the wicket or

towards short-leg. It is invariably wrong to go out of your ground

when the fast ball is straight or on the off side, for in both these

instances, if you miss the ball, even if it does not hit the wicket,

you are under the risk of being stumped. But to move out of your ground

to a fast ball on your legs practically lays you open to no danger of

being stumped, for if you should miss the ball you will stop it with

your legs. Now imagine yourself utterly unable to sweep the ball to

leg as George Parr used to do, and receiving a ball that you cannot

reach at the pitch so as to hit with a straight bat--in other words,

rather a short ball--what are you to do? If the ball is very short you

will probably get back, bring your left foot on a line with, and close

to, the right, and try either to make the ball glide off your bat to

long-leg or play it with a full face for a single in front of short-leg.

Fig. 10 shows W. G. Grace attempting the glide, and apparently he has

hardly moved either leg; presumably, therefore, the ball is not very

short, but only just too short to hit. This is a stroke in which W. G.

Grace excels, as indeed he does in most others; but it is a dangerous

one unless the left elbow is kept well up, for otherwise, if the ball

bumps, you will find your bat sloping backwards and the ball will go up.

[Illustration: FIG. 10.--‘The glide.’ (W. G. Grace.)]

We must now think of the proper way to play a ball on the legs that

is not short enough for the batsman to play back to in this way,

though, on the other hand, it cannot be hit to square-leg with a

straight bat. The batsman also, on account of some natural disability,

has always been unable to learn the secret of the George Parr sweep.

This sort of ball must be played forward, and, if necessary, the

batsman may even leave his ground and push it in front of short leg.

As has been said before, if he should miss the ball his legs will save

him from being stumped. The ball must be smothered as far as possible

and pushed on in front of short-leg, and the reason why it is not hit

harder is simply because you cannot quite get at the pitch, and if,

therefore, you hit hard at it, you would probably sky the ball. The

bat must be kept at the proper slope: as the body is lunging forward

a great deal of impetus will be given to the hit by the mere weight

of the body, and the ball will frequently find its way to the ropes.

This play is most useful when opposed to left-handed bowlers, for then

the ball is apt to follow the arm and come straight in the direction

of the batsman’s left hip. The famous trio of Uppingham cricketers,

Messrs. Patterson, Lucas, and D. Q. Steel, were very strong in this

stroke, and in an innings of over a hundred which Mr. Patterson played

at Lord’s in 1876 against Oxford a large proportion of his runs were

made in this way. In ancient days many balls on the leg side used to be

played by a now practically obsolete stroke called the ‘draw,’ which

consisted of an ugly lifting up of the left leg and letting the ball

glide off the bat between the legs towards long-leg. It was as much

part of the _répertoire_ of a player of the old style as a cut or a

drive, but it has utterly gone out of fashion as a stroke to be learnt,

simply because it had no further effect than the glide off the bat as

now practised; the modern style has also the additional advantage of

being more elegant, and there is less chance of the ball hitting the

foot. The famous Jemmy Grundy used frequently to play this stroke,

and his mantle appears to have descended on some younger Nottingham

players, for at the present day they sometimes use it. It used to be

brought off occasionally by the famous Richard Daft, and was in fact

the only stroke of this graceful and most correct player that was not

elegant. As we have now got on the subject of the draw, we may as well

describe the other sort of obsolete draw, which was performed by just

touching the ball with the bat quite straight, but with its left side

turned towards the wicket-keeper, or what soldiers would call left

half-face, held some way behind the body. Tom Hearne used to be great

at this sort of draw, but it is even more entirely gone out of fashion

as a stroke than the other style. The same effect is produced by what

is frequently seen--namely, a batsman only just snicking a ball off the

leg stump, or just touching it, leaving the spectator uncertain whether

the ball has been played or has hit the wicket. Tom Hearne, who was

the last player who used to practise this stroke methodically, was in

the habit of jumping with both feet towards short-leg, and leaving the

bat in the correct position for the draw; and not unfrequently he was

caught at the wicket owing to the ball not being turned sufficiently;

sometimes, though not often, if the bound towards short-leg happened

to be a little too much in front, he used to be stumped. This stroke

necessitated moving the right leg towards short-leg, and it is on this

ground mainly that we contend that it is not sound cricket; but, as has

before been stated, it is now quite obsolete, and to imagine it you

must also imagine yourself in the days of tall hats, pads under the

trousers, and braces holding up a curious type of pantaloon, such as

the late Mr. Burgoyne, treasurer of the M.C.C., used to wear up to the

day of his death. The play shown in fig. 11 is made by drawing back the

left foot, coming hard on to the ball, and forcing it in the direction

of short-leg. In our judgment, this is the right play for all short

balls on the legs, for the ball is near to the body and consequently

to the eye; you have therefore great facility in placing it, and you

have also the bat at a proper angle. It is more correct than the stroke

shown in fig. 10, for there if the ball should bump it will run up the

shoulder of the bat, and possibly get caught by the wicket-keeper,

short-slip, or even point and short-leg, and we have seen several

instances of the ball hitting the bat, not in the front but at the

side of the bat. In the former play the ball has to hit the bat, in

the latter the bat hits the ball, and, according to the fancy of the

batsman, can either be hit in front of short-leg or be suffered to

glide towards very sharp long-leg. The figure, however, does not quite

convey the impression that the ball is being hit hard. The bat may have

descended from over the batsman’s head, especially if the ball is very

short, while the figure only shows the end of the stroke.

[Illustration: FIG. 11.--Forcing stroke off the legs.]

The off drive in the direction of cover-point and to the right hand

of point is a favourite hit with many players. Barnes of Nottingham

plays it to perfection. The ball to hit in this way is one well up on

the off side, though it need not be a half-volley. The left foot is

thrown across, the ball is hit with a nearly perpendicular bat, and

the stronger the wrist the cleaner and harder will be the hit. In this

and every other hit correct timing is most important, and whatever the

beginner may try, do not let him attempt to hit wildly at the pitch of

the ball. Let the left foot be put across, and be careful to hit over

the ball in order to keep it down, for if you do not, and the ball

bumps, it will inevitably go up. The ball should be a foot or so wide

of the wicket; the batsman at the moment of striking the ball will be

facing cover-point, and will have his left shoulder well forward, as in

fig. 12. The bat is well over the shoulder, and is coming down nearly

perpendicularly on the ball, which is not a half-volley; if it were,

the bat would be straighter and the ball would be driven straighter.

But the ball is hit after it has gone about a foot from the pitch. If

the ball is a foot or two wide of the wicket and well up it would be

hit in a similar position, for the bat cannot be held straight to hit

a ball at this distance from the wicket; if it should go straight it

would be a pull and not a clean hit, and the further the ball from the

wicket the further ought the left foot to be moved across. Whatever you

do, refrain from hitting a ball when there is reasonable expectation of

the umpire calling ‘Wide.’ You may hit it for two or three runs; you

are more likely only just to touch it with the end of the bat and get

caught by third man or point; you are still more likely to cover it and

not score off it, thereby losing a run for your side.

[Illustration: CAUGHT AT THE WICKET]

So completely has the modern method of bowling on the off side for

catches established itself, that cautious players like Donnan and

Abel have got into the habit of leaving off balls altogether alone.

Granted that the bowling is accurate and the fields well placed, county

clubs will very soon find out that, if this course is pursued much

further, cricket will become a very dull game to watch, and a match

will probably seldom lead to a decisive result. It may be done to a

good length ball outside the off stump when you first go in, and have

neither got a good sight of the ball nor the pace of the ground; but

that batsmen should habitually watch the wicket-keeper take the ball

while they stand right in front of the wicket, with their bats behind

them, is carrying caution so far that some people would call it not

a virtue but a vice. We actually saw a cautious player receive four

consecutive off balls and not make an attempt to hit one. What pleasure

can there be in batting if these tactics are adopted? And let such

players please think of the unhappy spectators. The ball can be hit

if you will only get your left foot well across and get well over the

ball, and even if your energies are chiefly directed towards hitting

the ball on the ground, the ball will be hit, and the field may make

a mistake; at any rate you have made an effort, and not given up in

despair. It is like a timid man running away from danger instead of

facing it, as he should, and it is better to try and to fail than not

to try at all. Never mind your average; you cannot win a match by such

tactics, though you may make a draw of it.

[Illustration: FIG. 12.--Off drive.]

The off drive by cover-point must be always made by putting the

left leg across, and not the right; and the old principle never to

be departed from, namely, to keep the left shoulder and elbow well

forward, must be again emphasised. When you have once got into position

you are master of the situation: you are right over the ball, and you

may leave it alone if it should bump; or you may wait till the ball

has passed you, and then make the cut with left leg over in the way

described before. You are not in the most favourable attitude for the

cut, because your left leg is too much over, but it can be brought off;

and if only a great deal of practice is given to this off drive there

will be no necessity for leaving balls alone.

There are several players to whom is denied the ability and capacity

to make these off strokes, who are defective in wrist and careful

timing of the ball, but who are fully capable of taking quite proper

care of a half-volley or balls well up. Such players are under a great

disadvantage when they get balls on the off side that are shorter than

the half-volley, for they certainly cannot take the same advantage of

them. But they have a great many courses open to them, and if they will

get the left leg over, and hit over the ball, they will run no risk of

getting out, and a casual ball will be well timed and hit accordingly.

But they have also the waiting stroke open to them, and this consists

of letting the ball get past them, and simply letting it glide off the

bat in the direction of long-slip. The faster the bowling the more

runs will result from this stroke, as the ball is hit at a longer time

after it has pitched than it is when the batsman meets it by the more

effective method; there is more time to observe its pace and direction;

and if such a player is only careful to get over the ball, he will get

a lot of runs in this way.

Lastly, there is the hard drive, which partakes largely of forward

play, but yet is a hit to which you can open your shoulders. It is made

with a straight bat either on the off side, on side, or straight over

the bowler’s head.

To fast bowling the difficulty arises of distinguishing this stroke

from forward play, for so many balls from fast bowlers on hard wickets

are played forward that are not by any means half-volleys and yet go

very hard. In fact, there are occasions when fast grounds and fast

bowling combine to make batting very easy--when, as a well-known

Yorkshire fast bowler said, ‘If you poke at her she goes for four.’

There is no real necessity for ever having a regular smack at straight

balls from a very fast bowler; it is practically as effective to play

them forward, with the weight of the body thrown on the left foot

and the arms and shoulders kept free and loose. No more beautiful

exponent of this graceful forward play has ever lived than Lionel

Palairet of Somerset. But by all means hit as hard as you possibly

can at a half-volley outside the off stump; the ball will either make

mid-off tremble, or else go straight to the ropes between mid-off and

cover-point. You move the left foot slightly forward a little in front

of the wicket, and you hit at the ball with a straight bat and get

well over it to keep it along the ground. Hold your bat tight, for if

it should turn in your hands there will be a miss-hit and you will be

caught at cover-point or elsewhere. You can hit your hardest at the

half-volley just off the wicket, for the simple reason that if you do

miss the ball you cannot be bowled, and there is no more chance of

missing if you put out your whole strength to it than if you simply

drive it forward with a straight bat. So keep a little reserve of

strength in all straight balls, but to a crooked half-volley put your

whole force into the blow and hit as though you wished to do the ball

an injury.

About the half-volley on the on side very little need be said. We have

observed before that the ball just outside the leg stump, to within two

or three inches of it, is a ball to drive and not hit to leg. It should

be hit towards mid-on or between the bowler and mid-on; and to apply

what has been said before, hit it as hard as you can, as if you do miss

it you will not be bowled. Keep the right leg still and lunge forward

on to your left foot, which should be a little thrown forward, and hold

the bat tight.

We have now sufficiently discussed the principles that ought to guide

the young player in playing fast bowling on a good fast wicket, and

if he observes what has been said he will find that he plays a good

safe game, assuming that his eye is straight and that he is able to

put his bat in the place where his eye shows him it ought to go. The

play to fast bowling on slow tricky wickets brings out the batsman’s

real talent, and he will discover that what was easy on a hard wicket

is full of difficulty on a soft. There are no decisive rules to guide

the player on such wickets; he must trust to his eye and capacity for

watching the ball. The player that can watch the ball carefully is the

man who will succeed on slow difficult wickets; and anybody who has

seen Grace, Shrewsbury, and A. G. Steel bat under these circumstances

will understand what this watching the ball means. If the ground is

very fast there is hardly any time for a careful watching of the ball;

the player must play largely by instinct, which will tell him where

the ball is going, and as the wickets nowadays are so very true the

ball will nearly always take a natural course, that is, straight from

the pitch. The left-handed bowler round the wicket will come with

the bowler’s arm slightly from off to leg, the right-handed bowler

also round the wicket from leg to off, but these are both the natural

courses the ball ought to take. On slow wickets, however, the ball will

come slower; it will take all sorts of fantastical turns and twists,

it will get up straight, and sometimes hang or stop a little. It will

generally be found that very fast bowlers do not shine on slow soft

wickets, for they have great difficulty in getting a good foothold.

It is the medium and slow bowlers who revel on such ground, as Briggs

and Giffen can tell you. The batsman will find that he is bound to

play more back and less forward, for it is little good to play forward

unless the ball can be smothered, owing to the extraordinary pranks the

ball will indulge in after it has pitched. He will therefore be found

playing more on his right leg, and the runs will inevitably come much

slower. It has been ascertained by experience that hitters are of more

value on these difficult wickets than sticks; for the latter, though

they may stay in for an hour, will perhaps not get a dozen runs during

that period. The hitter, however, if he brings off four hits, does more

execution in a quarter of an hour than the stick will do in thrice that

time.

The value of three or four hitters in an eleven was never more

distinctly shown than in the case of the Australian Elevens of 1882

and 1884, and the Gloucestershire and Cambridge Elevens of 1897. In

the Gloucestershire and Cambridge Elevens of 1897 Jessop’s hitting

has on several occasions turned a match in a quarter of an hour, and

this player certainly has the greatest gift we ever saw of hitting

balls of any and all lengths. The Australian 1882 eleven had four

big hitters--McDonnell, Bonnor, Giffen, and Massie. In the great

international match at the Oval in 1882, Massie got the fifty-five runs

in Australia’s second innings that practically won the match, and to

say he hit at every ball is scarcely an exaggeration. There was also a

match against Yorkshire at Holbeck, where McDonnell’s scores of over

thirty in one innings and over forty in the other certainly won the

match for his side. In 1886 Surrey had to go in to get eighty-seven

runs to win. Abel was playing for an hour and three-quarters, while

Garrett and Evans were bowling, every ball dead on the wicket, and

during that time laboriously compiled thirteen runs. The result of the

match was really very doubtful after the fall of the seventh wicket,

but Jones, a courageous cricketer, seeing what was the right game,

went out and hit Palmer over the ropes for four, and the value of this

hit cannot be exaggerated. As a rule it may be taken for granted that

steady and slow play, useful and good as it is in its way, will not win

matches on slow difficult wickets unless there is a sprinkling of three

or four hitters in the eleven. By the doctrine of chances you will find

that one of the number will come off, and one innings like Massie’s

may win the match. To the player who has any hit in him we therefore

advise the playing of a freer game on slow difficult wickets than on

easy ones. In the latter case runs are bound to come if only you stop

there, but they will not in the former. You may leave your ground even

to fast bowling on slow wickets if you think you can bring off a hit

by so doing, and generally hold the bat nearer the top and give her

the long handle. The defensive player, if he cannot do this, must play

generally back with the weight on the right leg, watch the ball very

carefully, take advantage of any loose ball that may be bowled, and

try and place the ball for singles to short-leg, or in the slips. The

bowlers find it more easy to put on break or curl on soft wickets,

so whereas on hard wickets you may almost assume that the ball will

play no pranks but come on straight, on soft you may almost assume the

contrary. The ball that hangs or stops a bit after pitching instead

of coming on is perhaps the most fatal ball that is bowled. If the

batsman plays forward to such a ball he will very likely find that he

has done playing before the ball has reached his bat; this means that

the bottom of the bat goes on and gets under the ball, and he is caught

and bowled. So frequently does this ball come that it is well not to

play hard on soft wickets, for if the ball hangs at all it must go up

on being hit. For defensive play, we think the bat ought not to be held

at all tightly, but rather slackly, for you cannot get a run by hard

forward play or hard back play on such wickets.

The general characteristics of play to slow bowling such as that of

Tyler, Peel, Briggs, and others are so very different that we must make

a few special remarks on them. The great amount of slow bowling is a

development of modern times; not that slow round-arm bowling did not

formerly exist, but it certainly did not to anything like the extent

it does now. In the days which we all of us have heard talked about by

old cricketers at Lord’s, when Mynn, Redgate, Hillyer, and Lillywhite

flourished, there were some lob bowlers, notably the famous Wm. Clarke,

but there were few genuine slow round-arm bowlers, and Wm. Lillywhite

had a long stop even when the renowned Tom Box was keeping wicket, as

may be seen in the well-known engraving of the match between Kent and

Sussex played about the year 1840. Coming to later times, from 1860 to

1868, there was, as far as we can gather, but one real professional

slow round-arm bowler, namely, George Bennett. Between 1870 and 1887

may be said to be the dark age of amateur fast bowling, and to a less

degree of professional. Since that date, however, the amateur fast

bowling has wonderfully improved, and the famous S. M. J. Woods led the

way, and has been followed by Jessop, Jackson, Kortright, Cunliffe, and

others, while the great Richardson, we think, is the best fast bowler

that has ever bowled, when the amount of work and the perfect wickets

are considered.

From a theoretical point of view, to real slow bowling all forward

play ought to be banished. If the ball is short, play back to it; if it

is tolerably well up there ought to be time to go out and meet it, and

drive it at the pitch. There are some quick-footed players who carry

this theory into practice, but generally, if you observe first-class

cricket, you will find that there are plenty of players who never

leave their ground, even to slow bowling, unless they are really well

set. This partly comes from the great caution which is undoubtedly

exercised more now than it was twenty or thirty years ago, and partly

from the fact that the bowling, though some of it very slow, is not

tossed up so high in the air as it was by Bennett and earlier bowlers.

Peate, for instance, in his prime the best length bowler for the last

twenty years, did not toss the ball at all high in the air, nor did

the renowned Alfred Shaw, the most accurate bowler that ever lived.

But we still think that more running in might be practised, for there

is nothing that more completely demoralises a bowler than a player who

comes out and drives when the ball is at all over-pitched. We have seen

slow bowlers who do not possess much head completely demoralised by a

quick-footed player like Mr. A. G. Steel. They preserve their dignity

by bowling so short, that though maiden overs might abound wickets

certainly would not fall. Let the cricketer, when playing to slow

bowling, stand a little easier, in order that, when he has made up his

mind to meet the ball, his right foot will not be rooted to the ground,

as it ought to be when playing to fast bowling on fast wickets. Fig. 13

shows Shrewsbury going out to drive, but he is evidently only at the

beginning of his jump, and by the time the bat has got over the ball he

will be a couple of yards outside the crease. Remember, if you are to

be stumped, you may as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb. You

are equally out if you are an inch or ten yards out of your ground, so

never hesitate to go out as far as you can in order to make the hit a

certainty, and if you can hit the ball full-pitch by all means do so,

as you ought never to miss a full-pitch. You can also pull a full-pitch

to leg or anywhere on the on side where fieldsmen are scarce, and it is

a sign that for that particular occasion the bowler is defeated if the

batsman has not permitted the ball to touch the ground.

[Illustration: FIG. 13.--Running out to drive. (Shrewsbury.)]

If you find, on going out to hit a ball, that it is too short, and

you cannot get at the pitch of it, you have several courses open to

you. If you are a very big hitter, and the field is not very far out,

it is worth while to try the experiment of hitting as hard as you can;

the ball must go high, and may go over the ropes or out of harm’s way;

indeed, some great hitters seem to prefer a ball that is not quite a

half-volley. Mr. C. I. Thornton, the biggest hitter the world has ever

beheld, with the exception of G. J. Bonnor and perhaps Lyons, has made

his longest hits off such balls as these; while Bonnor, who possesses

a prodigious reach, seldom leaves his ground at all, and constantly

sends the ball out of the ground by hitting short of the actual pitch.

If the ball is smothered it cannot go up in the air, and though it is

more correct cricket to get over the ball and drive it forward, as

Shrewsbury and A. G. Steel do, it is probable that the great hitters

would lose more than they gained by playing the orthodox game. There

is a golden rule to be carefully remembered in playing slows, and that

is, never to run out to a ball that is well outside the off stump.

We do not mean to bar the player from running out to a ball which is

absurdly over-pitched, and which he is certain to get full-pitch if

he goes out; but he should not leave his ground to the half-volley

unless it is nearly straight. There is more than one reason for this.

In the first place, if you miss the ball, it is the easiest sort for

the wicket-keeper to take, and any moderately decent wicket-keeper

will certainly have you out. In the second place, an off ball is one

that it is impossible to hit or play with a straight bat, and if you

run out to slows you ought always to hit thus; and this rule is sound

even when you run out to a ball on your legs, for that is generally

hit to long-on with a straight bat, and not to leg. It is generally

true that you should never leave your ground to any ball that may be

called crooked, whether it is to leg or to the off, for in either case

you run a serious risk of being stumped; it is only straight or nearly

straight balls that you ought to meet by going out of your ground. The

modern slow bowler is so very accurate that he very rarely bowls on the

leg side at all, and the old-fashioned lobber who used to bowl on the

leg side with a twist from leg and have four or five fields on the leg

side is gradually disappearing. The ball that in nineteen cases out of

twenty you have to meet by going out of your ground is, therefore, the

straight ball.

As far as lobs are concerned, you can play them by stopping in your

ground; but the really good player to lobs runs out to a certainty

when the ball is overpitched, and the famous Wm. Clarke used to say

that Pilch played him best, as he used to wait his opportunity and

meet him and run him down with a straight bat. If you come to reason

out the theory of batting to slows, and think how you can best defend

your wicket and best score off such bowling, you will easily satisfy

yourself that by playing back and gently forward you may ensure safety

for a considerable period, but you cannot score even moderately fast.

The ball does not come up to the bat fast off the ground as in fast

bowling, and if you play forward hard you run the enormous risk of

being caught and bowled or caught at mid off. In other words, while

to fast bowling you play forward to get runs, to slow bowling you

play forward to defend your wicket. If, therefore, you play the

extra-cautious game and stick in your ground, or from some cause or

another are unable ever to ‘give her the rush,’ you will not be able

to score except by casual singles, unless you wait and fully avail

yourself of a full pitch or an outrageous long hop, relished, and often

obtained, when amateurs are bowling, but very seldom delivered in

first-class matches, and practically never by professional players.

It is difficult to know what to do with the good length off ball.

It is much harder to cut slow bowling than fast: greater strength

of wrist is wanted, and there are many players who are unable to do

more than merely pat the ball towards third man for a single or two

runs. Slow bowlers have a great fancy for bowling without a field at

third man, and this is to the advantage of the batsman; but even if

there is a third man, at any rate he cannot cover more than a certain

amount of ground, and you will find that many a run may be got by the

pat. Mind and get over the ball, and you cannot then come to grief

by being caught at third man or short-slip, and very rarely by the

wicket-keeper. The bumping ball ought to be left alone; this sort of

ball is the only one in meeting which prudence is the better part of

valour, and no attempt ought to be made to hit at all. The old Adam

within them forces a great many players to try and hit, but it is

almost a certainty that if the ball is hit it must be from underneath,

and up in the air it will consequently go. On a soft slow wicket any

run getting to good slow bowling is extremely difficult, but even on

such wickets you will lose nothing and gain the casual single by the

pat.

The good length ball on the off side is the modern batsman’s bugbear,

but it is far easier to play when the bowling is fast than when it is

slow. It is easier to cut in the first instance, and there are seldom

so many fields on the off side to the fast bowler. But the slow ball

can be and ought to be driven along the ground if the batsman gets

well over it, times it correctly, and throws the left leg across in

the same way as we explained in describing the proper method of making

this stroke off fast bowling. It is more difficult to time good slow

bowling, when the bowler is continually altering his pace, than fast,

and herein lies the difficulty of hitting these off balls. Bear in

mind, however, that by keeping well over the ball you practically run

no risk of being caught anywhere; sooner or later you will get your eye

in, and when that desirable consummation is accomplished, you will be

astonished to find how safely you will hit many balls that when you are

looking on it seems impossible to hit without incurring considerable

danger. But nothing can be gained by leaving balls alone; you run the

minimum of risk by hitting at them, if only you observe the two rules

which ought to be hung in your bedroom and branded into your brain,

‘Put the left leg over,’ and ‘Get on the top of the ball.’ Above all

things do not play for a draw.

From what has been said on the principles which govern the proper

playing of fast and slow bowling, the reader may be led to think that

slow bowling is far more difficult to play successfully than fast.

_Chacun à son goût_ is true, no doubt, but we are inclined to think

that, to the majority of players in the prime of their play, slow

bowling is on the whole more difficult to play, especially on hard

wickets. Take the case of W. G. Grace. It was almost a waste of time on

hard wickets to put on fast bowlers when Mr. Grace was at his best. The

sole advantage to be derived from so doing arose from the fact that it

was advisable to distract his eye, and for this purpose a fast bowler

was useful. By this we mean that, when slow bowlers were on at both

ends, his eye would become more accustomed to the pace of the ground,

and in a shorter time than it would have been if a fast bowler had been

on at one end. But the fast bowler was on mainly to enable the slow

bowler to get him out, and if the reader looks at Mr. Grace’s enormous

scores of twenty years back he will find that Shaw, Southerton, Peate,

and Lillywhite got him out a dozen times to the fast bowlers’ once. And

the runs that came from bowlers like Martin McIntyre were astonishing;

anywhere, cuts, pushes through any number of short-legs, big drives and

colossal leg hits--all were alike to the great batsman.

On soft wickets, though many think otherwise, we believe that fast or

medium-paced bowling is more difficult. This must be assumed only in

the case of those fast bowlers who have power to keep their precision

and pace on slow wickets, like Morley and Richardson. The variety of

wickets, as is shown in the chapter on Bowling, is very great, and on

the real mud farmyard sort of wicket it is generally safe to presume

that fast bowlers cannot act. When there is a slight drizzling rain,

which keeps the ball and surface of the ground wet, fast bowlers

flounder about like porpoises, and the only bowlers who can act at all

are the slow, though they are very much handicapped. But on the real

bowler’s wicket, soft, yet gradually hardening by the effect of the

sun, _cæteris paribus_, the fast or fast medium bowler will, as a rule,

be the most deadly. The year 1879 was, on the whole, the wettest year

for cricket that the present generation has seen, and it is instructive

to turn to the result of the season’s bowling for the county of

Nottingham. This county possessed in Alfred Shaw and Morley the two

best bowlers in England--one slow, the other fast. Here is the analysis

of each for Nottingham:--

Overs Maidens Runs Wickets Average

Morley 725 349 867 89 9·66

Shaw 794 453 651 62 11·31

It will be seen from this pair of analyses that Morley’s is slightly

better all round than Shaw, with the exception of the number of

maiden overs. But maiden overs are not the final goal of the bowler’s

ambition. They are only means to an end. The true bowler’s one idea

is to get wickets. The reader will note that Morley, the fast bowler,

got no fewer than twenty-seven wickets more than Shaw, which more than

makes up for the latter’s greater success in bowling maidens. The year

1879 was doubtless a great year for bowlers, but none the less we doubt

whether, taking a whole season’s work for a county, this record has

ever been surpassed by any _pair_ of bowlers at any time, and it is as

good an illustration of the truth of our theory that in wet years slow

bowlers are not likely to succeed so well as fast or medium-pace.

It has always appeared to us that the reason why real slow bowling is

slightly less deadly than fast or medium on slow wickets is simply that

the batsman is more at the mercy of the eccentricities of the ground

when playing to the latter class of bowling than when playing to the

former. He always has the power, if he would only exercise it, of

leaving his ground to balls of a certain length from the slow bowler,

and smothering them. And again let the beginner lay this axiom to

heart: the ground can commit no devilry if the ball is smothered at the

pitch. On slow wickets, therefore, to slow bowling leave your ground

with even less hesitation than on fast, and argue in this way, that as

life against these bowlers and on this wicket is certain to be a short

one, therefore it had better be a merry one for the sake of the score.

There are and have been a few great men with the bat who obey no

law, but possess that strange indefinable gift called genius, which

rises superior to any difficulty of ground or bowling; these batting

luminaries may play their ordinary game on slow difficult wickets, and

their genius enables them to do what ordinary mortals cannot. On really

difficult wickets Shrewsbury shone, and on the whole he has proved

himself the best player the world has ever seen on caking, difficult,

soft wickets. But let the ordinary player, who has acquired a certain

amount of skill in batting, remember that cricket on hard and fast

wickets and cricket on slow are two quite different things, and that

he must alter his game to suit the circumstances. The very fast-footed

bookish sort of player is the one who is most at sea on soft wickets;

and this last bit of advice we respectfully urge upon him--that one

hit for four and out next ball will probably be of more value to his

side than twenty minutes’ careful defence and no run. It is not on soft

wickets that drawn games are played, unless there is rain after the

match has begun; it is on dry wickets, with boundaries close in, that

the plethora of runs makes the game dull to all except the ignorant

spectator and the voracious batsman. Of course, if there is only a

short time left before the drawing of stumps and conclusion of the

match, say an hour and a half or two hours, it may be of importance to

play for a draw; then the twenty-minutes-without-a-run batsman may be

the means of salvation for his side, as Louis Hall has proved to be

more than once for Yorkshire; but, except under such circumstances,

the hitter who runs a certain risk for the sake of a hit is the more

valuable man.

A few words now on running. A man is out if run out as decisively

as if his middle stump is knocked down; but being run out is more

annoying than being bowled, so everybody ought to learn how to run.

Some fieldsmen are so renowned for their throwing and rapidity of

movement that when such a man is going for the ball the batsman will

not venture on a run which, under ordinary circumstances, he might

safely make. In any event do not run if you feel any doubt of its

safety. The first invariable rule is that the striker calls the run

if the ball is hit in front of the wicket. This is simple to remember

and there is no exception unless it be when the ball is hit to third

man under certain circumstances. These circumstances refer to the

fieldsman himself. If the third man knows his business and throws to

the bowler, the striker has to run the risk; therefore he ought to

call. If the third man is a player of tradition and always throws to

the wicket-keeper, the non-striker is in danger, but if he is backing

up he never will be run out. All hits behind the wicket--except in

the case above mentioned--must be called by the non-striker, and the

striker must not look at the ball after he has hit it, but at the

non-striker. The man who has not to judge the run must have a simple

childlike faith in the judgment of his partner, and if he gets run out

he may remonstrate gently with him afterwards with good reason. The man

who is receiving the ball can easily get into the habit of watching

it after it has passed him on its way to the long-stop or if he has

hit it to long-slip; but this is a bad habit, and if indulged in will

result in the two batsmen holding different ideas as to whether a run

can be got or not, on which subject there must be no difference of

opinion. If the batsman to whom rightly belongs the call shouts ‘run,’

and his colleague shouts ‘no,’ unless one gives way promptly there may

be a crisis at hand. Never do batsmen look so foolish as when they

affectionately meet at the same wicket, and nothing is so maddening to

the supporters of a side as to see a good batsman well set deliberately

lose his wicket by the folly of either his colleague or himself. If

batsmen will only remember that the decision of the run must rest with

one man, and that his call must be obeyed at once, there will not be

many runs out. When, say, the third run is being made, and the question

whether a fourth can be successfully attempted arises, that batsman who

has to run to the wicket nearest the ball ought to call. The reason

of this is, that as the ball is a considerable way from the nearest

wicket it is almost certain to be thrown there, and the batsman who

calls ought to be he who runs the risk. We will give the following

rules to be remembered by every cricketer with regard to running. (1)

The striker must call every time when the ball is hit in front of the

wicket. (2) The non-striker must call every run when the ball is hit

behind the wicket, except in the case of hits to third man as mentioned

above. (3) Whoever has to shout, let him shout loudly; there is no

penalty attaching to a yell, and it is comforting to a man to know his

colleague’s intention without any doubt. (4) If a bye is being run,

the striker must run straight down the wicket, as he may be saved from

being run out by the ball hitting his head instead of the wicket, for

which mercy he ought to be duly thankful. (5) On all other occasions

run wide of the wicket so as not to cut it up. (6) Always run for a

catch if sent reasonably high into the air; if it is caught no harm is

done to you, and to be missed and to secure a run in one and the same

hit is a veritable triumph. (7) Run the first run as hard as you can,

and turn quickly after grounding your bat within the popping crease,

for the fieldsman may bungle even the easiest ball, and it is never

safe to assume that there can be no second run.

We hope that we have now explained the true principles of batting to

guide the youthful player in his path. One other word of caution. A

young cricketer may go to Lord’s and watch a great match; he may see

the giants of the game perform--MacLaren, Ranjitsinhji, Jackson, and

Palairet. He will wonder and admire, but let him beware of imitation,

which may lead him into innumerable quagmires. In another walk of

life, literature, you will find facetious writers who are fond of

imitating the style of famous authors, and very amusing the attempts

sometimes are; but it is easily seen that the points they successfully

imitate are the roughnesses and eccentricities which are frequently

characteristic of great authors. An imitator of Carlyle, for instance,

revels in the brusque eccentricities of the great man’s style, but he

never succeeds in portraying his noble qualities. It is much the same

in cricket: genius defies imitation, and is only by poor struggling

humanity to be admired. In the prime of his play nothing in cricket

was grander than the sight of W. G. Grace scoring two runs off a ball

that any other cricketer would have been only too happy to stop. No

school coach that understood his business would tell a youth to play

certain balls as they are played by Mr. A. G. Steel, who sometimes

adopts the most daring methods, and it is not safe to infer that

anybody else in the world can play in a like manner. It is so with

hitting. Bonnor, Lyons, O’Brien, Ford, and Jessop can hit many balls

which the great majority of other cricketers would only venture to play

gently forward. Some critics who are great at criticism, but great

at nothing else, have been known to shake their heads at some of the

methods of great players; but we can assure these gentlemen that real

genius admits no more of criticism than it does of imitation. The four

never-to-be-violated rules previously mentioned need not trouble the

genius at all; no human law need concern him: he is a law to himself,

and looks down from a lofty eminence on his weaker brethren. What is

the good of telling A. G. Steel not to move out of his ground to fast

bowling, seeing that he does so constantly, and gets four runs by a

fine hit when he ‘gives her the rush’? He will not heed you; and why

should he?

Apart altogether from the natural accuracy and quickness of hand and

eye, without a proper allowance of which labour will be in vain, a

great deal depends on the temperament of each player. Whether failure

is owing to health, to inability to recover elasticity of spirits

after a few defeats, or to some other cause, it is impossible to say.

But let the good player who goes through a whole month, or perhaps

even a season, with very bad luck, and comes out in the end with a bad

average, comfort himself with this reflection, that not only have good

players had these reverses, but even the very best. Mr. W. G. Grace

must be accustomed to hear and see his name referred to, but even he

has had spells of bad luck, and he will, we are sure, excuse us if we

put in full the following figures of innings which were played when he

was in his prime:--

_June 15 and 16, 1871._--_Gloucestershire_ v. _Surrey_.

c. R. Humphrey, b. Street 1

_June 19 and 20, 1871._--_M.C.C._ v. _Cambridge University_.

c. Ward, b. Bray 4

c. Thornton, b. Bray 4

_June 22 and 23, 1871._--_M.C.C._ v. _Oxford University_.

c. and b. Butler 15

_June 29 and 30, 1871._--_Gentlemen of South_ v. _Players of South_.

c. Lillywhite, b. Southerton 4

b. Lillywhite 11

These figures show how the mighty do sometimes fall, and this certainly

ought to console those in the humbler walks of the cricket world. Some

players have shot up like rockets, played for a season or so, and then

have been heard of no more; but the county that plays a series of

county matches will act unwisely if it shunts a player who has shown

that he possesses real batting ability. Of course there are limits to

the patience of every club committee, but all committees would be wise

if they were to err on the side of leniency in this matter.

It is of very little avail writing any sort of homily on nervousness,

which is in the constitution, and cannot be got rid of by much or any

reading. It is common to all, in greater or less degree, and if any

man tells you that he does not know what nervousness in cricket is,

do not believe him. To say that there is no sensation other than a

distinctly pleasant one in walking to the wickets is absurd. It is true

that nervousness does not appear to affect the play of some batsmen,

who on first going in seem to be playing their ordinary game. But the

sensation is there, and these are the fortunate men whose play suffers

but little in consequence.

Nervous players must try and reason to the effect that they are

sometimes in the habit of making runs, and that therefore there is no

great presumption on their part if they assume that the chances are

they will do so again. They must also remember that, after all, cricket

is but a game, and no moral disgrace will attach to them if they

fail. These are but poor consolations at the best, but the game is so

glorious that, as we have before remarked, it is better to try and to

fail than never try at all.

It has always been assumed that the crack English Eleven that failed

to make the necessary seventy-nine runs against the Australians in

1882 were nervous because they did not succeed in making them. We are

not sure that they all were, or that there was more nervousness than

usual; but the wicket was difficult, the Australians’ fielding superb,

and their bowling extraordinarily good. Certainly two or three of the

Englishmen were nervous, and no eleven could be got together anywhere

to play such an important match without this being the case. But the

longer anyone plays the less nervous will he become, and the fortunate

men in cricket are those, like the famous Tom Emmett of Yorkshire, who

can, as he modestly said, ‘bowl a bit sometimes.’ The player who plays

only because he is a good bat, and never bowls after he has laid his

duck egg, has no opportunity of retrieving his character by getting

four or five wickets with the ball. The unhappy batsman makes one bad

stroke and his wicket is lost, and he has possibly no further chance in

the match. But though the bowler may bowl a wide one ball he may take a

wicket the next, and we believe that these all-round players find more

enjoyment in cricket than the man who only bats. To their credit be it

said that at no previous period have the professionals combined the

two more than they do now, and we congratulate Peel, Briggs, Attewell,

Rawlin, Davidson, Hirst, and Wainwright accordingly.

The obvious advice to give to players whose success depends mainly on

health is to implore them to look after and pay great respect to the

laws by which health is regulated. Not to eat and drink too much, great

though the temptation may be to do both, is a rule that ought to be

observed by cricketers; but there is another, not so obvious, but of

great importance, and that is, avoid sitting up late at night. There is

such a lot of cricket in these days that some amateurs and a great many

professionals play six days in the week. There is the corresponding

amount of travelling to be got through, and a lot of fatigue to be

undergone; sleep, therefore, must not be neglected, and long hours

devoted to convivial evenings not only entail loss of health but loss

of runs also. It is a curious and unwholesome feature of the present

day that it is judged expedient to have enormous meals in the middle

of the day, with salmon, forced meats, creams, jellies, champagne, and

everything calculated to disturb digestion and pervert the sight. This

meal is not only the cause of much indigestion, but also of a gross

waste of time. Instead of half an hour being taken up by the legitimate

luncheon, a precious hour is stolen from the middle of the day. It must

be said that on the principal public grounds there is no reason to

complain of the luncheons: excess is more the custom on private grounds.

As we have in this chapter implored captains of elevens to be merciful

to good players who may happen to be out of luck, so now, in justice

to the other side of the question, let us beg the batsman not to be

superstitious.

Superstitions abound in most games, but we have no objection to

examples of the weakness which cause inconvenience to nobody except the

possessor. We have heard, for instance, of a really great player who

never goes in to bat in a match with anything new about him, not even

a shoe-lace; but such superstitions are harmless. There is, however,

the man who has got it into his head, or possibly has dreamt, that it

is quite impossible for him to score if he goes in first or fifth, or

in some particular place; consequently the unhappy captain, after he

has written out, with great care, an order of going in, is bothered and

worried by men who begin to make excuse. One is certain that he cannot

score if he goes in first, another thinks he ought not to be put so low

down as eighth, and so on. Our advice to the captain is to care for

none of these things; let him use his own judgment and not consider the

absurd whims and eccentricities of nervous batsmen. The responsibility

of managing a match is quite enough anxiety and trouble for him without

being bothered by a mutinous eleven, and we entreat batsmen to obey

without murmuring their captain’s orders, and go in without grumbling.

The rules of cricket are imperfectly understood even by some

reputedly famous umpires; it may be well, therefore, to remind batsmen

how many ways there are of getting out. They know what it is to be

bowled out, caught out, stumped, run out, to get out leg before wicket,

or to hit wicket; and a great many think that nothing else will get

them out. This is a mistake, and it was a comical sight to see, as we

saw some years ago, a first-rate professional diddled out in another

way. It is against the rules, properly understood, to wilfully hit the

ball twice. The rule runs: ‘The batsman is out if the ball be struck

... and he wilfully strike it again, except it be done for the purpose

of guarding his wicket.’ But if a batsman plays a ball and a proper

interval elapses the ball is dead, and he may return the ball to the

bowler. The old rule reads: ‘if the striker touch or take up the ball

while in play.’ In the case alluded to, Barlow was batting in a North

and South match at Lord’s. He hit the ball twice, and, unfortunately

for him, started to run. This starting to run proved the more or less

wilful nature of the act. There was a roar of ‘How’s that?’ from the

colossal throat of W. G. Grace, standing at point; it was a case

of ‘You’ll have to go, Barlow,’ and naturally, in a somewhat moody

manner, Barlow went to the pavilion. It is absurd to say that there

was anything unfair in this; he violated a distinct rule of cricket.

A lot of players think that the ball must not be hit twice under any

circumstances, and they would as soon think of touching a red-hot coal

as hitting the ball a second time. If there is no wicket-keeper and

the ball is played dead against the foot, it may save a few seconds

of time if the batsman shove the ball back to the bowler with his bat

and stand still, thus saving point the trouble of picking the ball up

and returning it. The ball while ‘in play’ must never be picked up by

the hand, for handling the ball wilfully loses a wicket as much as

having two stumps knocked down. It is an easy rule to remember, and

is very rarely broken, but still it is a rule that must be observed.

Obstructing the field is another violation of rule for which the

extreme penalty is exacted. Of course a witness may tell an untruth in

the witness-box, but unless it is spoken wilfully it is not perjury. So

it is with obstructing the field. Many hundreds of times has a batsman

standing in his ground prevented a wicket-keeper from catching him out;

the mere fact that the player’s body, being in a certain position,

forces the wicket-keeper to run round him instead of straight at the

ball will make an uppish ball as unreachable as the sun. The fieldsman

is obstructed, but not wilfully, so no penalty is incurred. But if the

batsman were to hit up a ball to point, for instance, and either strike

at the ball with his bat or wilfully baulk the fieldsman in any way, he

would be out, and deservedly so. In this, as in other like matters, the

umpire must be the sole judge, and it ought to be pretty plain and easy

for him to give a right decision. About twenty years ago the well-known

Cambridge University cricketer, Mr. C. A. Absalom, playing for his

University against Surrey, was running a bye, and whilst running to

the opposite wicket the ball hit his bat, possibly preventing him from

being run out. The umpire gave him out; but the umpire was wrong, for

the ball came from behind him, and as it was never alleged that he

looked to see the course the ball was taking and then interposed his

bat, it was obviously impossible that he could have wilfully obstructed

the ball: it merely chanced that while running in towards the wicket

the ball by accident hit his bat. We do not mean to imply that the

batsman ought to run wide of the wicket to a short run in order to give

the fieldsman every chance of running him out; on the contrary, if a

short bye is to be run, we advise the batsman to run straight down the

wicket, for then, as pointed out elsewhere, the ball will very likely

hit him and prevent him being run out. But he must not deliberately get

in the way of the ball or in any way contribute to the fact of the ball

hitting him. A case of wilful obstruction ought easily to be detected

by any decent umpire.

It is amusing to ask experienced cricketers in how many ways it is

possible for a man to be got out at cricket, and it is astonishing

to find many who give most absurd answers. There are nine distinct

ways of getting out--(1) bowled; (2) caught; (3) stumped; (4) leg

before wicket; (5) hit wicket; (6) run out; (7) handling the ball;

(8) obstructing the field; (9) hitting ball twice. It is well to know

these facts, for the batsman who gets out in an untoward and unusual

way feels himself to be a fool, and generally looks like one. Mr.

Alfred Lyttelton, when playing some years ago for Cambridge University

Eleven against M.C.C. at Lord’s, got back to a slow long hop and with

his foot just touched the leg stump, the bail of which did not at once

fall off. Oblivious of this fact, and only conscious that he had caught

the ball in the middle of the bat and sent it far away, off he started

for his runs with radiancy on his face and a mocking smile on his

lips. No less than five runs were run, and not until then did anyone

except the wicket-keeper notice that the leg bail, after hanging on a

frail basis for a few seconds, had fallen off. The appeal was made and

the facts examined, the deadly verdict was given, and it was a case

of a return to the pavilion. The batsman on such occasions as these

may look pleasant; but that is only one of the beneficent results of

civilisation, for, as a matter of fact, he feels extremely bitter,

and there are innumerable swords in his heart. In the case mentioned

the unhappy batsman felt hot and out of breath after his exertions in

running the five runs, and there was a sad reversal of the pleasant

feelings that attend a successful hit--the applause of the crowd was

all wasted, the expected increase to the score was not realised, all

had vanished, and a melancholy man walked drearily to the dressing-room.

Batting may be called the most enjoyable feature of the great and

glorious game of cricket. A man even in full training invariably

feels the effect of fatigue after bowling sixty or seventy overs, and

fieldsmen go through the same experience during a long outing. But

it may with truth be said that the keen pleasure which is realised

by every cricketer worthy of the name, while he is actually at the

wickets, prevents him from feeling fatigue as an inconvenience until

the innings is over. We do not believe, though with bated breath let

it be said, that the fine rider on a fine horse in a good position

and over a grass country with a burning scent can feel so supremely

content with the world and its glorious surroundings while galloping

and jumping close to hounds, as does a batsman who feels himself

master of the bowling on a good wicket in a first-class match, with a

fine day and a large crowd keenly anxious for his well-doing. He is

conscious that his side is gaining a glorious victory by his efforts,

and life can give him no prouder moments. To the young cricketer let us

therefore say, in conclusion, that, as the pleasure is so intense and

the excitement so keen, he should strive to attain proficiency by care,

practice, and the advice of great masters. Above all, he must cultivate

the moral qualities that of necessity must have a place in such a

great, glorious, and unsurpassable game as cricket.

[Illustration: FIG. 14.--Gunn playing forward.]