Clem Hill's Reminiscences

question of how much they would win by. But England lost by 3 runs. Clem Hill recounts the highlights of that great fight. An off stump lying prostrate with a piece of earth on its point, a ball some yards distant, and the second bail still delicately poised on the middle and leg stumps. Thousands of people in their overcoats streaming disconsolately out of Old Trafford ground into the wet streets. The Australians in their dressing room as happy as a lot of school boys let loose – so happy that the wicket-keeper was looking everywhere for his gloves and charging his mates with having taken them, and they were on his hands all the time. Never had I witnessed such scenes of ecstasy. Those are the impressions I retain of one of the most thrilling Test match finishes I played in – at Manchester in 1902. The English people were confident that their team would win; the cricket writers expected a victory by at least five wickets. Only 123 to make and eleven men to do it. According to the English papers it was all over bar the shouting. And we thought so, too. One ‘poet’ was so certain about it that he penned the following lines, which were printed on mourning cards bearing the picture of a hearse complete. The cards were to be sold as soon as the game finished: IN MEMORY OF THE AUSTRALIANS The Australians came like the wolves on the fold. And their faces looked tanned like the Australian gold. To the cricket field they all wended their way To see all England at cricket to play. The Australia men their players feel The blighting, withering blast. For full of hope they thought to steal The verdict at last. ‘Twas not to be, so let them lie Deep in the silent grave And shed a tear o’er their bier. And the match they tried to save. It’s rather crude stuff, I admit, and I quote it only to show how confident the people of Lancashire were. There was reason for their confidence. This poem reminds me of a ‘poet’ named Craig, who was well known in England. He was a chap after the style of the late Sammy Lunn. 41 He used to sell scoring cards inside the playing arena, cracking jokes all the time with the public and making up rhymes on the play and the players. Let me lead up to the eventful final innings. Darling won the toss, and we went to bat on a soft wicket. Trumper and Duff scored 135 in 80 minutes and when His Third English Tour 64 41 Sammy Lunn was a patriotic rhymester and fund-raiser who was originally known as a witty barracker and Grand Rhymer for the Port Adelaide Football Club, but who adapted his skill in support of both departing and returning troops in the First World War. Known as the ‘soldier’s friend’ Lunn died and received a huge funeral on 6 September 1923. A memorial was raised in his honour next to the Soldier’s Cemetery in West Terrace, Adelaide on 16 May 1926.