Cricket 1888

124 CRICKET: A WEEKLY RECORD O F THE GAME. MAT 10, 1888. wicket without any trouble or dispute, and he being left-handed practically was mostly op­ posed to breakbacks, but he did not want a pad or leg to help him when the bowler saw and had command of all three stumps. There is a moral in this fact, which modern cricketers who want the help of a pad plus the bat to defend their wickets with, may ponder on. Mr. Felix was born in 1804, and died in 1876, cetat 72. He was a universal favourite. The following letter, written by Felix to the Earl of Bessborough, will be read with interest by those who remember that most versatile of cricketers when he was in his prime. We are greatly indebted to Lord Bessborough forhis permis­ sion to reproduce the letter and portrait,the latter done, as will be seen, by Felix himself. No. 20, Montpelier Street, Brighton, Dec. 28th, 1865. M y D e a r F r ie n d ,— M y Bense of delight was soon on the track of my surprise at beholding the post-mark of your truly kind and affec­ tionate letter, which came safely to hand last week. I cannot tell you how glad I was to hear from one with whom I had had the honour as well as the pleasure of passing so many of my early happy days—and “ E h e u ! fugaces,” and, above all, I was gratified to hear you speak so flattering of my little collation, not only for “ Lillywhite’s Guide,” but also for tho guidance of those of the young people who may care to take the same interest in the game as when you used to act so principal a part. It is now ten years since I have seen any cricket save what is olayedbyafewsmall boys of the ragged school, who “ do congregate” on ground close at hand, which I suppose was once a f of beautiful green, but now the recipient of materials for building purposes. Poor little fellows! their cricket ground will soon become part of this immense town and I shall lose the pleasure of an occasional smile, for, rough as it is, their anxiety to excel is quite as keen as when our hearts used to beat high for honour and renown. I often hobble up that way and stop to let fancy have its playful sway. The past is like a happy dream, the present chal­ lenges the past for enjoyment of a peace of mind scarcely known to the gladsome hours of youth, and the future gives to me now a calm contemplation almost as heedlessly dwelt upon by joyous boyhood. The wickets of these little fellows are chiefly composed of three pieces of broken stone piled one upon the other, and when not high enough receive the complementary aid of a folded jacket and a cap, peculiar to the young Arab. Please God I live to see to-morrow, I shall have been married to my present excellent wife two years, three months and three days. My sad affliction of paralysis came upon me when I was just upon the point of realising a good name in portraiture, so much so, that there is now in the Town Hall of this town (painted by N. Felix) a full length of W illiam Haslett, Esq. (Marl.) in his full dress costume of Mayor of Brighton, but the Almighty thought proper to order it otherwise. ME. FEL IX . B y F. G. T h e Editor of C r ic k e t has been good enough to show me an admirable likeness of Felix done by himself, and a very charac­ teristic letter from him to Lord Bessborough written in 1865; and has asked me to “ speak a piece.” On July 27,1837,1 started somewhere about 6 o’clock a.m. to a parson’s house some nine miles off and breakfasted with him at 7.30 sharp, and walked seven miles after breakfast to Town Mailing to see Kent and Notts, and arrived on the ground at 10 o’clock in time to “ see the men practice,” the match commencing at 11 o’clock. Such were the manners and customs of cricketers in the pre-railway days. I had never before seen the best men in England, and being fourteen years old I knew something about it, having had two years’ cricket fagging at school. Sitting on a table in a tent was a square-built merry-looking man who had on his right hand (as he was left-handed) a white kid glove with small blocks of india-rubber glued on at different parts of the glove. My father went up to him and, apologizing for speak­ ing to him as a stranger, asked him what was the meaning of the glove. Felix, with the greatest good humour, told him that he wanted to guard his knuckles, though he feared the umpires would not allow him to wear the glove with artificial padding outside. This was the beginning of the cricket glove which Felix afterwards patented. Long after that day, when a young man, I knew Felix well, and had the honour of playing with him in one or two matches, and saw him play all through his career from 1837 till 1852, when he played for the last time in Gentlemen and Players. His father was a schoolmaster at Camberwell (his real name being Wanostrocht) and Felix’s early cricket career was in the Camberwell, Peckham, and Blackheath Clubs, in the days when cricket meant hard practice on summer’s evenings, and occasional one day matches made a good holiday, and commenced at 10.30with six ball overs—often with two good professionals given on to each side—and suburban clubs had many players who came up to the very first ranks of cricketers. He mastered the practice and science of the game almost to perfection, joining the great Kent eleven through his Blackheath connection, and also being well-known at Lord’s as one of the Gentlemen of England eleven, 1831. He was the idol of the cricket field, playing for the Gentlemen up to 1852, so that for 21 years he was in the first eleven of England. Full of high spirits and fun, though intent on the rigour of the game, his presence seemed to light up the ground. Perfectly unsurpassed at point, for which—being monkey built and long armed—he was admirably adapted, standing close in front of the batsman very often; indefatigable at running anywhere to back up in case of a long hit when in the field; elegant and graceful in his fine forward Btyle of batting, when he put the face of the bat well on the ball and well forward, killing the ball before it had time to break in an awk­ ward manner, he was a very safe batsman; and, when he once got well set, his cutting was brilliant and superb, tip-toeing a little when the bowling was slow enough to give him a good sight, and putting the whole force of his shoulders and wrist into the blow. His book, “ Felix on the Bat,” tells of itself how good the man was who wrote it. He had one fault, he was rather a sluggish runner when in. In private life he was a host in himself: being a good scholar, abundant in wit, a good musician, good singer, and very fair draughtsman. Cricket he spoke of, in a letter to myself, dated 1871, as “ a mistress whom he loved, not wisely but too well; but for all that a noble pastime which now cheers him to read of, think of, speak of, and hear of in the echoes which recall the past with fondest remembrances.” His love of it caused the decline of his school at Blackheath, and when reduced to very few boys he remarked to a friend, “ Anyhow, I have eleven boys left who shall beat any eleven boys in England.” The Marylebone Club were loyal friends to him when he was struck down by paralysis; and his latter days, in spite of pain, were peaceful, as he made a second happy marriage somewhat late in life. H is brilliant career was in earlier days, long before pads were known, and long after their introduction the law of leg-before-wicketbeing administered, judging from bowlers’ hand to