On May 24, 1875, Cook lost the championship, which he had held for exactly four years, to Roberts, and the match was a very noteworthy one, as it marks the turning-point in the careers of the two men. Up to that period Cook had been generally considered rather the better of the pair, but from the date of this match Roberts asserted his superiority, which became more and more marked in each succeeding year. In 1876 D. Richards, an elder brother of S. W. Stanley, ran second to Cook in an American Tournament. Richards is the doyen of all the professional players before the public in 1896, and is a fine player. As in the case of Roberts, increasing age only appears to improve his game, and there is not the smallest doubt that when he had reached his ‘jubilee’ he was playing infinitely better than he had ever done in his life. Nursery cannons form the strong point of his game, and he certainly plays them beautifully and with remarkable delicacy of touch, though it must be admitted that no one makes more use of the push stroke than he does. About the most noteworthy events of 1877 were two matches on a championship table between Joseph Bennett and Tom Taylor, both of which the latter won, though only by twenty-seven and twenty-one points respectively. Bennett had gone very much off in his play just about that time, or Taylor would not have been matched with him on even terms, and in the following year the two were both handicapped to receive a start of 150 in 500 from Cook in an American Tournament that was played at the Gaiety Restaurant. One of the eight men engaged in it was Fred Shorter, who had a start of 200, and had done very little previously. Never did a young player so suddenly make a reputation, and some of his performances during the tournament were most extraordinary. In his heat with Joseph Bennett, the latter gave a miss in baulk, Shorter followed by placing his ball under one of the side cushions, and Bennett went out for a cannon, which he missed by the merest hair’s breadth. This left a nice game on for Shorter, who speedily worked his way to the top of the table, and went clean out with the spot stroke, thus winning a love game. There is a little story relating to this heat which must be fairly well known, but is good enough to bear repetition. Of course, the game only lasted about a quarter of an hour, and, as we were going out of the room an old gentleman, desiring, I suppose, to make what he considered a soothing remark to the beaten man, said: ‘How do you do, Mr. Bennett? You did not seem quite in your usual form to-day.’ This to a man who had only been allowed two strokes—with one of which he gave a miss in baulk, and with the other as nearly as possible brought off a most difficult cannon—was almost too much. I shall never forget the expression of Bennett’s face, but language failed him to make a suitable reply. Shorter did not treat Cook quite as unkindly as this; still, the latter only scored twelve when he played his heat with the new man on the following day, and most of the other players in the tournament were served in somewhat similar fashion.
A consequence of his beating Taylor was a match which I arranged between them, Shorter to receive 200 in 1,000. An incident that occurred early in this game gives an excellent idea of Shorter’s coolness and self-possession. One of his friends was seated next to me at the spot-end of the table, and thoughtlessly struck a match to light a cigar without watching for a favourable opportunity to do so. Shorter had just worked his way to the spot, and the sudden flash catching his eye caused him to miss the pocket by about six inches. He came round to us and said quietly, ‘Please don’t do that again; I can get on the “spot” whenever I like, and stay there as long as I like, still it isn’t worth while to throw away a chance.’ This was no idle boast, for when the game stood at 444 to 152 in his favour he put his opponent’s ball into one of the top pockets with a brilliant stab shot from baulk, and, his own remaining in perfect position behind the red, he ran right out, winning the match by 848 points. His break of 556 was for many years the largest made in a match for money. On being asked to continue it, he ran it up to 636, including 207 consecutive spot hazards. Just at that time I firmly believe that Shorter had no equal on an ordinary table; indeed, I offered to match him to play Cook 1,000 up, level, if the latter would stake 500l. to 200l., but the proposal was politely declined. Unfortunately, Shorter’s prospects of ever attaining a position at the head of his profession were marred by the fact that he had no liking for the game. It was the most difficult thing in the world to get him to do any practice. When he afterwards took part in tournaments, his first two or three games were generally devoted to playing himself into form, so that his big breaks towards the end of the week came too late to give him any chance of success. His constitution was never a strong one, and, as he could not be persuaded to take any reasonable care of himself, symptoms of consumption showed themselves in 1884. A voyage to Australia was recommended as the best chance of saving his life, but the remedy came too late, and he died at Deniliquin in August 1885. On a match between Roberts and Timbrell at the Gaiety Restaurant, Timbrell receiving 300 in 1,000 and winning by 449 points, it is not necessary to dwell. It was played on an ordinary table, spot stroke in, but Roberts never made more than 35 off the balls, whilst Timbrell’s best break was 73.
The year 1879 was remarkable for the first appearance in London of William Mitchell. The ‘Sheffielder,’ as he has always been called, though, as a matter of fact, he was born in Derbyshire, had long been known in the provinces as a player of exceptional ability; but few were prepared for the form he showed on the occasion of his London début in an American Tournament at the Royal Aquarium, Westminster, when he won six consecutive games and took the first prize. This he followed up by securing another tournament at the Baynard Castle, and then he was taken on a provincial tour by Joseph Bennett, in the course of which he made many very remarkable breaks. Four years later, in a match of 3,000 up with Cook for a stake of 1,000l., Mitchell at last cut Shorter’s record in a money game with a brilliant 739 (55 and 189 ‘spots’). Prior to this, however, when practising at Brighton, he had made a break of 1,839, composed almost entirely of 612 consecutive spot strokes. This was generally discredited at the time, but subsequent events showed Mitchell to be well capable of such a performance. When at his best, Mitchell never played a long game without making two or three four-figure breaks, and it was probably his own fault that Peall eventually became his master at the ‘all-in’ game. He played the ‘spot’ at a tremendous pace, and has never had an equal in one particular stroke—that of going all round the table and regaining position. A somewhat delicate constitution has always been against him, but his gameness is quite on a par with that of Roberts and Taylor. There has never been a more brilliant hazard striker; and, strange as it appears, considering that for many years the spot stroke was the backbone of his game, he was always seen to great advantage on a three-inch pocket championship table. When at his best, his all-round game is always a singularly free and attractive one to watch, and few players could surpass him in a push-barred game.
It was in 1880, the year after Mitchell had taken London by storm, that his great spot stroke rival, W. J. Peall, made his first appearance as a professional. Rumours had long been flying about as to the big breaks he was in the constant habit of making when playing as an amateur, and his appearance at the Royal Aquarium in an all-in American Tournament was watched with great interest. He and R. Wilson received the limit of 175 points start in 500 from Joseph Bennett and W. Mitchell, who were at scratch. Peall, however, disappointed expectation at first, though playing sometimes brilliantly in exhibition games. He did not show to advantage when a stake was at issue, but in time he acquired confidence. In May 1884 he won an exhibition game with Mitchell at the Aquarium in four breaks exclusive of his initial miss, scoring 1,000 points in forty-four minutes, which still remains the fastest time on record. Later in the same month the same pair were giving an exhibition game at Cambridge, and Peall made a wonderful break of 1,989, which included 548 consecutive spot strokes, though as all of this break, with the exception of the first 411, was made after the game was over, it is questionable whether it should be counted as a record. Fortunately for Peall, he can well afford to dispense with this 1,989; for at the Royal Aquarium, on November 5 and 6, 1890, he completely eclipsed it with a phenomenal break of 3,304, all made inside the game, and comprising runs of 93, 3, 150, 123, 172, 120, and 400 spot strokes. I have no hesitation in giving these records of breaks made almost entirely on the ‘spot,’ for though the tables on which most of them were made may have been comparatively easy, there is no sort of doubt that the breaks were genuine in other respects. With spot-barred breaks, however, the case is very different, and I prefer to write very little about them. In matches where no money has really been at stake, although each party to them had solemnly deposited his 50l., or 100l., or 200l., as the case might be, it was clearly to the interest of each man to have as many big breaks made as possible, for the reports of these were likely to improve the ‘gate.’ Most of these big spot-barred breaks are composed largely of nursery cannons, and some of these long runs of nursery cannons which are credited to different players were never really made at all. Either a cannon was scored which was not made, a very difficult thing for a marker to detect, considering the express speed at which some professional players rattle up these ‘nurseries,’ or the player, when his ball was in contact with one of the others, calmly proceeded with his run of close cannons, instead of having the red and his opponent’s ball spotted and playing from baulk. This is something of a digression, but it seemed necessary to explain why I have written so little about ‘records.’ They are easily to be ascertained by anyone who is interested in them, and can be taken for what they are worth. From these great performances of Peall’s it may be easily gathered that his nervousness had entirely left him, and, after he had once acquired confidence, there never was a more consistent and trustworthy performer. Whatever any of us may fancy Mitchell might have done, there is no getting away from what the latter has actually accomplished, and, as a spot stroke player, he has never had an equal. For a long time past he has been ready and willing to meet anyone at the ‘all-in’ game, and is entitled to call himself champion of English billiards. It might have been imagined that the virtual disappearance of the spot stroke would have completely disposed of his pretensions to a place in the front rank, but, so far from this being the case, he was for a considerable period second only to Roberts as a spot-barred player. Short stature has always precluded the possibility of his being a very stylish player, but the extreme deliberation which rather detracted from his play years ago has to a great extent disappeared. His name has always been associated with all that is honourable and straightforward, and no member of his profession is more universally and deservedly respected.
No match for the championship had taken place for nearly three years and a half when Joseph Bennett challenged either Roberts or Cook to play for it. The former waived his claim and left Cook to meet Bennett on November 8, 1880. This match was one of the most interesting and exciting I ever witnessed. Bennett, who was favoured with a good deal of luck in the early part of the game, did not fail to take the fullest advantage of his opportunities, and, at the interval, held a lead of 122 points, a very big advantage indeed on a small-pocket table. The interval, however—like luncheon time in an important cricket match—often used to produce a marked change in the aspect of affairs, and soon after resuming play Cook put in a fine break of 107, passed his opponent at 795, and entered the last hundred with a substantial lead. The contest then seemed all over, but Bennett, playing up with any amount of coolness and resolution, won by 51 points. This was about the first time that I noticed unmistakable signs of Cook’s nerve failing him; he missed two or three easy strokes just when points were most wanted, and I doubt if he was ever quite the same player again.
Cook and Roberts sailed for India immediately after this match, and Taylor at once challenged Bennett for the championship. The match came off on January 12 and 13, 1881, at St. James’s Hall, and though, soon after starting, Bennett made a break of 125, the highest that had then been recorded in a match for the championship, Taylor stuck to him in his usual dogged fashion, and was only beaten by 90 points. Shorter was the next aspirant, but failed to make good his final deposit, so Bennett received forfeit. An off-hand match, however, for 25l. a-side took place between the two on the table on which they ought to have played for the championship. Bennett, who conceded a start of 100 in 1,000, was defeated by 193, and as he soon afterwards met with the unfortunate gig accident to which I have previously alluded, this was about his last appearance as a player, all his energies being subsequently devoted to teaching. I must not omit to mention that in September of this year, during an exhibition game with Alfred Bennett, Cook made a spot-barred break of 309, the longest then on record. It was without the semblance of a fluke, and was a far finer performance than it looks to be on paper, for the ‘top of the table game’ was then unknown, and it was put together by open play all round the table.
In January 1882, Cook, for the first time, took points from Roberts, who gave him 500 in 5,000, all in, for 500l. a-side, and won by no fewer than 1,658 points; the winner’s best break was 430 (5, 11, and 107 ‘spots’). A return match was played for a similar stake at Newmarket during the July week, and was witnessed by the Prince of Wales and a large and aristocratic company. This time Cook’s start was increased to 750, and he won by 918. His highest break was one of 412; Roberts had two consecutive runs of 653 and 395.
Very early in 1883 John North, who possessed a high reputation in Wales and the western counties, made his first appearance in London. This was in a spot-barred American Tournament at the Albert Club, and a more trying ordeal for a comparative novice cannot well be imagined, for, as is very truly stated in ‘Billiards, by W. Cook,’ in allusion to North’s début:
It is comparatively easy to perform in an ordinary tournament or match, where the least noise or interruption to the player is instantly checked; ... but billiards at the Albert Club is a different thing altogether. Betting on the game, and often on individual strokes, is carried on without let or hindrance, and that a stranger to London should have displayed consistently good form under such trying circumstances was conclusive evidence that he had plenty of nerve and self-possession.
North won this tournament, but it cannot be said that he has ever fulfilled his early promise. Fit and well, and at his best, he is an undoubtedly fine player; but his style, never a pretty one, becomes terribly ugly and jerky when he is out of form. Towards the close of the year 1883 Roberts offered to give any man in the world 500 in 5,000, all-in, or 200 in 3,000 spot barred. There was no response, and I only mention the fact to show how the status of certain players has altered in the last ten years. Few people would now care to pit Roberts against Peall on even terms at the all-in game; whereas his supremacy at the spot-barred game, to which he has entirely devoted himself, is so complete, that his offer of such a start as 200 in 3000 reads almost ludicrously.