When the old All England Eleven were in their prime, and were playing matches in country places against eighteens and twenty-twos, the players did not always pay that deference to umpires which was customary on the best grounds, and advantage was sometimes taken of an umpire’s nervousness and inexperience. It seemed to be an axiom with some players, ‘To appeal is always safe.’ If several famous cricketers cried ‘How’s that?’ it is not to be wondered at that an umpire would occasionally say ‘Out’ on the spur of the moment, without knowing why. But a very fair retort was once made to a player who was fond of making appeals, on the chance of getting a lucky decision. ‘How’s that, umpire?’ he cried. The reply was: ‘Sir, you know it is not out; so why ask me, if you mean fair-play?’
The umpire has not an easy post to fill, even if he have all the assistance which can be rendered by the players. Points are constantly arising which are not provided for in the laws, and he must be guided by the practice of his predecessors in the best matches. There is such a thing as common law in cricket, as well as what may be called statute law. It is undecided whether the umpire should be considered part of the earth or part of the air. If a ball hit him, and be caught before it touch the ground, is the batsman out? Some umpires say Yes, and others say No. Severe accidents have sometimes happened to umpires who have been struck with the ball, and there is on record that at least one has met his death in this way.
When matches were played for money, and when cricket was subject to open gambling, it was more difficult for umpires to give satisfactory decisions than it is now. In the account of a match played about sixty years ago between Sheffield and Nottingham, the Sheffield scorer wrote, that every time a straight ball was bowled by a Sheffield bowler the Nottingham umpire called: ‘No ball.’ Many stories arose at that time about umpires who were supposed to favour their sides. One town was said to possess a champion umpire, and with his help the Club was prepared to meet all comers. Only twenty years ago, the following statement appeared in a respectable magazine: ‘Far north, there is an idea that a Yorkshire Eleven should have an umpire of their own, as a kind of Old Bailey witness to swear for Yorkshire through thick and thin.’
But Yorkshiremen themselves have told some racy stories about some of their umpires. One was appealed to for a catch, and he replied: ‘Not out; and I’ll bet you two to one you will not win.’ Another at the close of a match threw up his hat, and exclaimed: ‘Hurrah! I have won five shillings.’
It is well known that when Dr E. M. Grace made his first appearance at Canterbury, Fuller Pilch was umpire. The doctor was out immediately, but the umpire gave him in. When he was afterwards expostulated with, he said he wanted to see if that Mr Grace could bat; so, to satisfy his curiosity, he inflicted an injustice on his own side. If the same thing had been done in favour of his own county, it would not have offended a gentleman whom Mr Bolland refers to in his book on Cricket. This gentleman, referring to an umpire’s decision on one occasion, said: ‘He must be either drunk or a fool, to give one of his own side out in that manner.’
At Ecclesall, near Sheffield, there was formerly a parish clerk called Lingard, who was also a notable umpire. One hot Sunday he was asleep in his desk, and was dreaming about a match to be played the next day. After the sermon, when the time came for him to utter his customary ‘Amen,’ he surprised the preacher, and delighted the rustics who were present, by shouting in a loud voice the word ‘Over.’
PARTED.
Farewell, farewell—a sadder strain
No other English word can give;
But we are parted though we live,