James Lillywhite's Cricketers' Annnual 1881

6 LILLYWHITE'S CRICKETERS' ANNUAL. ofb ythe initial letters of their Christian namesonly,just as the celebrated trio of the Walker family , who were all contemporaries in the England elevens , were and are still knownas ' V. E. ,' ' I. D.,' and ' R. D.' A n y attempt to describe the brilliant career of the youngest of the three brothers whohas lately passed awayfrom us, or to convey to the outside worldan idea of the shock which his premature death caused to those who had witnessed his rise and who knew him is impossible . All public men in Church and State have their biographers at their elbow unseen and unknownto them, who are ready at a moment's notice in case of sudden death to give a history of their lives through the press ; in fact the leading papers have the biographies in their cupboards. It is a useful custom, anda commendableone, but there is something ' undertakerish ' about it , just as one wouldnot like to knowthat someof the solemn gentlemenwho attend funerals and also go out as waiters , carry about the black tape and note book in their pockets , as they hand you the soup or pour out the wine , to measureyou for your coffin in case of accident . Conventional biogra- phies are subjects for gossip at the breakfast table , the club , relieve the tedium of the early journey to London, and when a few days have passed away, and the dead men's shoes have been filled ,they are useless except for posterity . But the death of a young man in the pride of his strength leaves a deepmarkbehind. Inthe present instance , I a mthe m a nwith another man's order -book andblack tape, the fact being that owing to the illness of the gentleman connected with this A N N U A L, whowouldhave written this article , I have beenasked suddenly to put d o w nwhatI believe to be true; and out of regard to JamesLillywhite , w h o mI have knownand respected for thirty years , and next to whomI sat in the pavilion on poor G. F.'s last appear- ance, I could not say ' No.' W eall rememberthat early in September, poor ' G. F. ' (we hadbetter call himbyhis popular title ) formed one of a small band of cricketers who helped to bridge over a difficulty with our Australian cousins -which threatened to become something worse-by the good old English practice of seeing who were the best m e nby a trial of skill and strength . There was only one way to make the bridge ; both parties wanted it , and could not agree exactly howit was to be made, until Lord Harris , who was most erroneously supposed (and the words ' most ' erroneously supposed , cannot be too strongly printed in italics ) to have stood in the way, said to the Austra- lians , Youfind the timber, and we will find the hammerand nails and the workmen, and that bridge shall be free to us all for ever . In fact , the moment the Australians landed, Lord Harris was the first to call onthem, to tell them, and as regarded himself , as the English captain in Australia , his mind was a blank in respect to anything which occurred at the Antipodes. W eall rememberthat the celebrated Australian matchwas, in the opinion of the oldest critics , unparalleled for skill , courage , and endurance on both sides ; and that the behaviour of the largest crowd ever witnessed at a cricket match was so admirable , and the scene altogether so grand , that to have been one of the English Eleven was an honour which a quarter of a century hence will be marked by the outward world in the same manner as w e nowrespect one of the ' Six Hundred' who fought at Balaklava over a quarter of a century ago. W eall rememberthat in that match fate was adverse to G. F.'s ' batting powers, and against all probable chances , and to the regret of his friends , the two fatal cyphers appeared to his name; but we all remember, too , that if it had been a match between him and