Lives in Cricket No 36 - WE Astill

94 George Gunn. Wally Hammond recalled a trick that he played on him and other youngsters when, in the autumn of 1925, Lionel Tennyson tried to cheer up the team on the crossing of the Atlantic to the West Indies in ‘abominable weather’ by creating an ‘orchestra’ of dummy instruments. ‘Astill, on sworn evidence, declared that he had never touched a piano in his life, and so was entrusted with the ship’s grand [piano]’ to provide the accompaniment in a concert for the passengers: I don’t know whether they liked the music, but ‘a good time was had by all’ … I have seldom laughed so much since. There was only one flaw – black treachery had been practised by Astill, who proved to be a most accomplished pianist. But perhaps it was for the best, since otherwise we might have been pelted, and to be pelted aboard ship where belaying pins (whatever they are) form the only missiles might be very uncomfortable indeed. 175 Although he played some classical music, Astill’s forte was the light, popular cabaret style, and he occasionally made up his own lyrics. Ben Martin recalls the opening of one: ‘If your luck is a duck, never mind / Poor old Percy [Holmes] will get two, you will find’, which he set to the piano. In 1946, when ill and finding breathing somewhat hard, he still led the Tonbridge boys in sing-songs on bus trips to other schools. The pianoforte was probably his favourite instrument, always the one he played at home for his family and the one that Colin Cowdrey remembered him playing during the 1946 summer holiday. Fred Root’s words may be used as summation of Astill the tourist: Among the many good fellows in the ranks of professional cricketers it has been my pleasure to know, Astill is the most versatile … [W]ith the social side of any tour Ewart is ever the star member … He has accomplished the task demanded of him – that of spreading the gospel of cricket – admirably both from a cricket standpoint and the all-important social aspect. 176 There is a suggestion, however, that though desiring to be, and indeed succeeding in being, this suave, witty, light-hearted and popular figure, he may perhaps have had to work hard to give an appearance that was not entirely in keeping with his nature. George Dawkes, the young Leicestershire wicketkeeper, considered him in the late 1930s a loner with no true friend in cricket other than Bob Wyatt, 177 and one boy at Tonbridge thought him ‘aloof’, 178 although this was denied by others. The graphologist Bob Malloney deduced that he was ‘an extrovert’ who yet ‘was quite a shy individual, who did not seek the limelight’. He clearly enjoyed touring immensely. One reason was his delight in new sights and experiences. The only specific thing that I can find reference to 175 Cricket my Destiny , pp 24-25. A correspondent of The Times (26 February 1926) mentions a later party in Trinidad with ‘Astill on the piano, Major Tennyson on the drums, and Collins on some weird instrument, and mirabile dictu , the M.C.C. Committee was also helping … ’ 176 A Cricket Pro’s Lot , p 100. 177 Wyatt himself denied to me that Astill had no other close friends in cricket. 178 See Chapter 14. The Tourist: ‘a Joy to Know’