The West Indian team which came to England in the summer of 1900 played seventeen games, won five, drew four, and lost eight, and when one considers that the team had never played together before, that they were quite unaccustomed to our climate, and to the strain of three days’ cricket, and that they lost the toss twelve times out of the seventeen matches the tour comprised, I do not think their record was at all bad. At the start the side were quite at sea, but they improved immensely as time went on, and towards the end of the tour showed some uncommonly good cricket. The result, too, of the visit of the last English team—by far the strongest of the three sides that have visited the West Indies—gave evidence that the cricket had improved in the islands, for out of the three test matches played, the West Indians won two, while Demerara twice defeated the Englishmen, and Barbados once.
A PARLIAMENTARY MATCH.
The Duke of Wellington, Sir Robert Peel, Lord John Russell, and others.
At the same time, it was generally felt that West Indian cricket had not altogether made the progress expected. There are several good bowlers, notably Burton, the best bowler in the West Indies, and Woods of Demerara, Lane of Barbados, and Smith of Trinidad; but though the fielding is excellent, the batting is weak, and of real knowledge of the game, especially in the art of placing the field, there is little, while the idea is far too prevalent that they have nothing more to learn about cricket. This comes, I fancy, from their having on three or four occasions beaten the English elevens which have played in the West Indies, quite forgetting that these sides are never more than fairly strong amateur combinations, with no pretensions to being called first-class.
From every point of view, there can be nothing more enjoyable than a cricket tour in the West Indies. The climate is, at the time of year we were in the West Indies, quite delightful, and although the sun is undoubtedly very hot, it is by no means harmful, if ordinary precautions are taken. Abler pens than mine have painted the exquisite charm and beauty of the islands, and the hospitality of the people is beyond measure, the visit of an English team being an event which is eagerly looked forward to. The black portion of the population is especially enthusiastic. They climb the trees round the ground, and keep up a running comment on the game, and it is somewhat disconcerting to hear a huge shout of “Bowl him out, Clif,” go up as the bowler runs up; but this was what happened in Barbados when I was batting, “Clif” being Clifford Goodman, the great Barbados bowler. Lord Hawke was a source of joy to the native mind. On going out to bat he was generally greeted with shouts of “Welcome, my lord,” followed by an exhortation to the bowler to “give the lord a duck.” Once, indeed, at St. Vincent the bowler did not disappoint the crowd, for Lord Hawke retired first ball, whereupon the scene which followed was, I venture to think, unique. First of all the bowler turned a somersault on the pitch, a way of evincing delight at the dismissal of an opponent one does not usually see at Lord’s or the Oval; but after he had gone through his acrobatic performances, it was even more interesting to watch the crowd, who threw their hats in the air, danced about in front of the ring, shook hands with one another, chattering and shouting the while. It was the most extraordinary scene I have ever witnessed on a cricket ground; but the West Indian negro goes quite mad about cricket, and when A. E. Stoddart was in Barbados, hundreds of them used to gather round his hotel on a chance of getting a glimpse of the great man. With more coaching from English professionals, and with a readier desire to assimilate the lessons taught, there is no reason whatever why cricket in the West Indies should not attain a high standard, for the West Indian seems to take quite naturally to the game, and the climate is admirably suited to the bringing of cricket to perfection.
One or two of the grounds, notably that of Georgetown, Demerara, are well cared for, but, speaking generally, there is much ignorance displayed in the preparation of wickets, and it would be almost worth while to have some man out from England to put the various grounds in order, and impart instruction to the native groundsmen. The Trinidad ground is infested with mole crickets, and the wicket is so impossible that, unless matting is put down, cricket will languish, for no young cricketer can be taught to bat really well on such a wicket, and a bowler may be in danger of thinking himself a good one, when in fact he is only just beginning to bowl.
My second tour was to America in the autumn of 1897, when I captained a fairly strong team, which included, amongst others, G. L. Jessop and F. G. Bull, the latter about that time the best slow bowler in England.
In discussing the strength of American cricket, it is as well to bear in mind that American cricket means Philadelphian cricket, for nowhere else in the United States does the game really flourish, though a few enthusiastic supporters do their utmost to keep it going in New York and Baltimore.