Cricket 1893

FEB. 23, 1893 CRICKET; A WEEKLY RECORD OP THE GAME. 23 HAMBLEDON IN 1892. By E. T. W . F o w l e r . “ I m it a t io n is flattery,” says some­ body, therefore Mr. F. Gale should be highly flattered to know that his admir­ able article, “ The Cradle of Cricket,” in his book ycleped “ The Game of Cricket,” instilled in me an insuperable desire to visit this sacred spot in the history of our national game. Mr. Gale explored this almost terra incognita from Southsea, but, on the contrary, I, like the men of old, “ came from the East.” In the extreme West of Sussex, built at the foot of the glorious undulating S o u t h downs, there is a snug ltttle village— South Harting, with a fine old church, a water­ mill and pond, a “ J u b i 1 ee” pump, and the stocks andwhip- ping - post still Intacta, close to the church­ yard—in fact, a delightful old English village, with a keen cricket enthu­ siast for its rec­ tor the Bev. H. D. Gordon, an old “ Wyke­ hamist ” (like Gaje), aye, and one who was at Winchester in ’50 and ’51, when the great Lillywhite was coach to the boys. Mr. Gor­ don has traced cricket matches being played in Harting as far back asl736 and 1737, before even the days of the ancient Hambledon Club. Well, from my snug quarters in this village (two miles from Bogate Station, S.W.B.), Hambledon is a dozen miles or so tramp, but still roads are good, so with light heart and in glorious sunshine off we go, passing many a beech-covered slope of the downs; soon we are in Hants; that collection of red-tiled roofs to the north is Petersfield, well-known to London wheelmen en route to Ports­ mouth and Southampton. A few miles farther and Bruiton is left behind, and the hills crossed—this finds out your “ bellows,” and it is surprising how often one has to turn to the north to admire the view ! After passing Clansfield, a long stretch of road with wheat-fields on each side, unbroken by a farm -house or cottage, continues for some time gradually rising until in the distance appears to view, what seemed ye ancient turnpike, but, no ! ’twas the “ Bat and Ball,” still standing by itself, as of yore, just beyond the last boundary of Hambledon parish, surrounded by the same ever-sighing Scotch firs that had looked down on Nyren and his confreres. At the junction of four roads this cottage beer-shop stands, but no palace, or princely dwelling, commands more respect that does this home of cricket, for from the road that leads from the North, one could in imagination hear the hum of players and crowd, returning from some glorious victory—perchance against “ England ”—from the “ Broad Halfpenny Down ” on our right. To-day (it was a Sunday) not a soul in sight, the playing ground all in plough, and marked by some half-dozen wheat stacks. The village—a large one— of Hambledon itself is a good mile further on ; the Church—a fine specimen of the perpen­ dicular style, with a spacious “ God’s acre,” is naturally a centre of attraction to cricketers, many of the old Hambledon Club doubtless rest here. Soon an old— a very old—sexton, who for 2d. lawful coin of the realm—failed to show me the tombs of any of the old Hambledon players, a list of which from “ Nyren ” I had carefully made, but he did show me the tomb of a man who “ had seen a sight of cricket in his time.” Before, however, this antiquated specimen of a sexton had arrived (doubtless to “ spy out the nakedness of the land ” ) I had spotted Sueter's (the tenor) grave—men­ tioned by Mr. Gale—it is under the yew tree to the southward of the church. Shortly afterwards it was time to retrace one’s steps, so coming again to the “ Bat and Ball,” I entered, and called for bread and cheese, but what a difference to the happy times of Nyren, nstead of a model Boniface to welcome you, one was confronted by a far from pleasant-looking landlady, whose temper was somewhat like her bread, crusty, and in reply to a gentle query of mine, as to prints, etc., j of cricket, or records of matches in the ; house, she replied that everything apper­ taining to cricket had long since gone, “ to save being bored with questions from gents who collected ! ’’ “ Good-day,” said I after that, and homewards trudged. Shade of old Nyren ! who talks about George Lear and Sueter giving many a treat, after a match, at the “ Bat and Ball” by singing glees, Lear having a sweet tenor voice. 0 mores ! To-day a drunken soldier is endeavouring to induce his weeping sweetheart to join in “ Ta- ra-ra,” etc. And instead of a jolly boniface, with red face a n d w h i t e apron, the iron plate fixed to the wall told me that “ Mary Gilbert ” was p e r m i t ted to dispense beer a n d tobacco ; and then the “ ale,” how dif- f e r e n t from N y re n ’s “ ale that would flare like turpentine, vended at two­ pence a pint, and punch that would make a cat speak at 6d. per bottle ; and the dinner, two or three of our fellows w o u l d strike dismay into a r o u n d o f beef I ” Though the rooms at the inn were but small, yet they had contained in their time such men as the Duke of Dorset, Lord Tankerville, or Sir Horace Mann, besides an unknown quantity of early masters of the game, and one felt a lively satisfaction in having been in their company, even though only in spirit. And so my trip to the “ Cradle ” ended; let every cricketer who projects an excur­ sion to Hambledon think twice to see “ if the game is worth the candle” nowa­ days, that’s my advice. C ricket C hat foe 1812 —(Eighth Year of Is me), enlarged and im proved edition, post free 7i<l Containing ia addition to Portraits^ and Biographies, Gronps o f Cri^tet. and Cricket Anecdotes and Oddities. To be had at the Office of this paper, o f all Booksellers, or W . H. Smith & Sons stalls.