Third
Test
Stoddart and his men played a two-day match in Ballarat on their way to Adelaide for the third Test match. On the Saturday they scored 187 against the Eighteen of Victoria’s ‘Golden City’, Jack Brown bulking up the innings with 64, Albert Ward making a duck when it hardly mattered. On the Sunday, having been down the Last Chance mine the previous day, there was little else for them to do but to wander round the more beautiful parts of Ballarat, including the Botanical Gardens and the lake, while several of the English cricketers went riding. Leslie Gay’s horse ran off with him and tossed him to the ground, but no limbs were broken. On Monday the match was resumed, and Walter Humphreys, shirtsleeves flapping distractingly, took 10 for 51 as the locals’ 17 wickets mustered 103, and second time round the visitors scored 149 for 7, Johnny Briggs completing a ‘pair’.
Safely transported to Adelaide, the Englishmen went down to the Oval to watch the closing stages of the Sheffield Shield match in which South Australia beat New South Wales on the fourth day by four wickets, Giffen taking a Shield record 16 for 186 to go with his current Shield batting record (205) and innings bowling record (9 for 147). His stamina would have ensured him of a lucrative endorsement contract of some sort in modern times.
Seven of the Australian XI which had just lost the second Test took part in this match, and when it was over, the English team had a net. Stoddart may have wondered if a place should be found for his lob bowler in the Adelaide Test, but resisted the thought. Humphreys was good at mopping up the minor opposition and making those matches easier, but he would stick to the same side which won for him in Melbourne.
Australia, in contrast, made four changes. Lyons had flu and was out of form, and Trumble, Coningham and Turner were omitted, Turner the surprise. He was made twelfth man midst murmurs of personality clashes. Stoddart would have been elated at the news. Meanwhile, the English captain declined all invitations. Now was the time to rest and prepare to complete the mission with a third straight win.
Australia’s four newcomers were Syd Callaway, whose bowling for NSW had just accounted for seven wickets in the Shield match; and the Victorians, Jack Harry and Jack Worrall, who must have impressed Giffen in the Shield match at Adelaide a few weeks earlier; plus the younger brother of Harry Trott, Albert, keen, talented, unpredictable.
It was an Adelaide Oval not all that dissimilar to today’s ground, uncluttered, leisurely, long on the drive, narrow both sides, usually a batsman’s dream, with a big, blue sky above, the ranges in the distance, and the stately St Peter’s Cathedral just beyond the long-leg boundary. In 1895 the scoreboard was primitive but informative, its ornate replacement not to be built until 1911. The gable-roofed grandstand down one side was later to be extended, and one day Giffen’s name would be perpetuated upon it. And for this big match, a large marquee had been erected on Australia’s third Test match ground. Within 100 years, the striking Sir Donald Bradman Stand would be built, but in 1895. The Don’s first appearance on the ground was still 33 years in the future. And as for the Vic Richardson Gates, this greatest of Adelaide sportsmen, grandfather of the Chappells, was a four-month-old in swaddling clothes when this third Test of the 1894–95 series was staged.
The heat was killing: 100 degrees Fahrenheit in the shade, 155 in the middle—though Stoddart has scribbled ‘108 in shade 166 in sun’ in his scrapbook. It was a day for winning the toss. Giffen did.
Firstly the Australians had to go through the time-consuming process of electing a captain, and the local legend held his position. Then he had to find his opposing skipper. Stoddart was chatting with some of his players under a tree at the back of the pavilion, and Giffen borrowed a shilling coin from one of them, Richardson, for the toss, keeping it afterwards as a souvenir of his luck. The wicket was so hard that Lockwood had glided across it, saying, ‘Why, it’s good enough for skating!’
There were almost 6000 present when Stoddart led out his men at 12.15 pm, followed by the Australian openers, Harry Trott and Billy Bruce, who wore the yellow-and-black colours of the local cricket authority. Richardson and Peel awaited them, as contrasting a pair of opening bowlers as Test cricket has ever seen. And after five minutes, Australia had 22 on the board. Bruce then offered a chance to MacLaren on the leg boundary, unaccepted, but soon played on to Richardson: 31 for 1.
In strode the revered Giffen, Australia’s cricket king, on the ground he had turned into his own private playground. The reception was inspiring. At first, Trott made the running, hitting ball after ball across the rough outfield to the asphalt cycle-track, raising the total to 69. Then a run-out tragedy let England back into the game. Peel hit Trott’s pad and there was an lbw appeal. While all else was frozen into a dramatic tableau, Giffen saw a quick single there and dashed down the pitch. Harry Trott didn’t but heroically stepped out of his crease by way of sacrifice. His 48 (in only 50 minutes) included eight fours, taming Peel and Richardson as he progressed.
The fast bowler was rested, remarking, ‘If I have to bowl much more, by the time we have to bat the wicket will be real sticky’—so much sweat had he sprayed about him. Now it was Brockwell’s turn to impress again with a tight length and just enough work on the ball. By lunch, Australia were 80 for 2, and Ernie Jones, who was not wanted by Australia in this match, cheerfully warned the red-faced Englishmen that it would get twice as hot during the afternoon.
Richardson soon made another breakthrough, beating Iredale for speed, and it was South Australia at the wicket as Joe Darling, sleeves rolled up, joined his captain, Giffen. Richardson thundered in again and hurled a yorker at Darling, trying for a repetition of his Sydney dismissal. The left-hander dug it out. A tough period followed as England worked hard to escape a long sentence under the lethal sun. Peel developed a slight ankle sprain, and Briggs tried his luck. And just after the 100 had been raised, Darling swished twice, three times, four times at Briggs, finally skying the ball for wicketkeeper Philipson to accept the catch, which will have pleased also the Toorak heiress, daughter of a well-known stock salesman, to whom, it was whispered, the Englishman had recently become engaged.
A full-scale Australian middle-order collapse now developed. Richardson powered in and had Gregory cutting without full control, Brown holding the catch at point. Then he crashed one through Jack Harry’s defence, and was soon throwing in from cover to run out Worrall before he had scored. It was a close decision, verified by those square-on in the Press-box, as well as by a German spectator who asserted: ‘Veil, you know, I tink not he never ket pack to de chollik mark!’
It was a shameful exhibition on this beautiful pitch: 137 for 7, and the Englishmen now less conscious of the flies, which never let up.
Giffen, who had been troubled in the past by Richardson’s pace, bounce and breakback, was coping well with him, and reached a worthy fifty with a ‘pretty’ (favourite word of the times) hit to leg for three. Richardson left the field with exhaustion, and Lockwood took over, almost immediately taking a return catch from Jarvis on the stroke of tea.
It was around this time that Sir John Downer, former Premier of South Australia, popped into the match and sat beside Albert Trott, who was padded up as next man in, but shaking with nerves, teeth chattering. ‘What on earth’s the matter with you, young fellow?’ enquired the kindly, well-dressed gentleman. Tm in next, sir. It’s my first Test match. I’m scared stiff!’ Sir John then allegedly said, ‘Don’t be so silly. They’ll never get you out!’ How close he was to the truth.
Giffen, having outstayed eight partners, was out soon after the 15 -minute interval, giving Brockwell a deserved wicket when he lifted one to deep mid-on. His 58 had taken 155 minutes and was chanceless, apart from a possible edge in the keeper’s direction before he had scored, according to some of the fielders. Giffen had placed a cool towel around his head throughout the tea break and was heard to say, ‘I have never felt so fatigued in all my life.’ He also lamented the loss of Harry Trott, who could have made England suffer on such a day as this. Now, with Trott’s younger brother as his partner, he showed how little faith he had in him by lifting his drive into Lockwood’s hands. It was ironic, for Trott junior was to prove one of the hardest Australians to dismiss in this and the next Test.
Was it or was it not a good pitch? ‘It’s not the best of wickets,’ quoth Giffen, ‘but there’s no sting in the bowling worth mentioning, and—well, we should have helped ourselves.’
The last pair did. From 157 for 9, Trott and Callaway scored 81 runs to save Australia’s face. And they did it boldly. Trott began with a five (six in today’s coinage) off his toes off Lockwood, landing the ball in a buggy in the driveway beyond the embankment. Later he drove one straight and would have run six as Lockwood puffed after it, had Callaway been up to the exertion. They settled for five. Callaway cut successive balls from Lockwood for four, and the crowd began to cheer up.
Trott was nearly caught off Ford, a hit into the blue beyond, with the lumbering Richardson unable to get there in time, and the mercy of drinks was called for.
England were missing Peel, but Stoddart, a little belatedly, brought back Richardson, and in the Press-box wise old Humphreys remarked that ‘Someone will be bowled now.’ Callaway was bowled by a beauty, Richardson’s fifth wicket. Eighty-one had been added in 70 minutes, and the pair were given a throaty welcome as they left the arena, Callaway 41, Albert Trott 38 not out, Australia 238.
MacLaren and Briggs gathered five runs in the 10 minutes left that evening.
Cloud did little to reduce the blistering heat, and most of the players, particularly the English, had a bad night behind them. There had been hours of sleeplessness, with sweat-soaked sheets and throbbing heads, flushed faces, unending tossing and turning. Stoddart was spotted in the hotel corridor in the early hours, having just taken his fourth shower-bath of the night.
He ordered the iron roller to be pulled only once up and down the pitch before play began, not wishing to break it up but merely to flatten it out. A huge crowd was gathering—building up to 12,000, twice that of the previous day—and even the military band played slow numbers so that the musicians could keep an eye on the cricket. The tempo of play was anything but slow. English wickets clattered throughout, to the accompaniment of a hot wind and swirling dust. Only later in the day did the weather finally ease up.
Albert Trott was given an over from the Cathedral end, and then Giffen, switching from the River Torrens end, and Callaway did the rest. They took five wickets each as England crashed for 124 to finish 114 behind.
Giffen was some time settling down, and conceded a few runs, but Callaway was right on target, and began with six maiden overs before bowling Briggs. The outgoing batsman did not necessarily help those to follow by quite audibly warning, ‘You’ll have to keep your eyes open: it’s a funny wicket.’
Next, Brockwell, in at No. 3, also made a dozen before hitting Callaway high above mid-off only for Harry to leap and hold the catch one-handed. Ward, having made only 5, untypically hit out at Giffen and was taken nicely by Bruce at long-on to make it 49 for 3, and with only a single from the new batsman, Stoddart (who had scored 134 here at Adelaide three years ago in his only previous Test innings on the ground), it became 50 for 4 as the England captain parried a series of offbreaks from Giffen before being bowled by a straight ball. ‘Here’s that dear Mr Stoddart,’ a woman was heard to say as he walked to the wicket. ‘What a shame,’ she now murmured, as white umbrellas danced about ‘like demon toadstools in a Christmas pantomime’ at his dismissal and shouts of ‘Bravo, George!’ led massive cheering.
When Callaway removed MacLaren’s leg stump, the noise rose again. England lunched sickly at 56 for 5. Callaway, whose first 10 overs had yielded 10 runs, now had 3 for 14, and South Australian player Reedman patriotically gave him a rubdown while Blackham, also at the match, talked tactics with Giffen. They were not alone in fearing a compulsory follow-on by England. With this pitch promising further deterioration, and with memories still vibrant of England’s comeback at Sydney in the first Test, it had to be a matter of consideration whether to give runs away to avert the follow-on.
Peel was bowled by Callaway right after the interval—64 for 6—but somehow Brown and Ford survived, the Yorkshiremen punishing Giffen quite severely. Together they made 47 before, at III, Ford became the first of three batsmen to be caught athletically some way from the bat by Worrall, who had dropped him at 13. There was no doubting that his batsmen were following Stoddart’s instructions to strive for every run and not to fall deliberately short of the follow-on figure.
Without addition, Lockwood was caught by Worrall, and 13 runs later Philipson hit Giffen into Gregory’s safe hands in front of the smokers’ pavilion. Richardson then drove Callaway only for Worrall to take another high catch, and England’s misery was complete, 124 all out, victims of exhaustion as much as anything else. Brown was left 39 not out, defiant if not elegant or chanceless, while Giffen’s 5 for 76 was upstaged by Callaway’s 5 for 37, with 13 maidens in his 26.3 overs. Eight of the 10 wickets fell to the final ball of an over, and the Australian fielding had been right out of the top drawer, holding six catches, intercepting reliably, and often hitting the stumps with direct throws. There might not, after all, be a 3-nil whitewash.
The Adelaide Advertiser reported one amusing little exchange between Worrall and a boy who stood by the players’ entrance: ‘Now then, Jack, just you catch three of them Englishers out and make up fer yer bloomin’ duck’s egg!’ Having carried out the instructions, the player found the youngster still by the gate as he came off grinning broadly, and saying: ‘Well done, Jack. Wot did I tell yer?’
While Charlie Checkett rolled the pitch during the tea interval, commenting that the wicket ‘is looking wonderfully well; there is only one little spot and it is right back’, Giffen ladled out oatmeal and lemon-water (Blackham’s recipe) to his men, until Stoddart addressed his own subdued band with a rallying ‘Come on, boys.’
They had something early to cheer them when Harry Trott played a ball from Peel into his stumps before a run had been scored. But Giffen joined Bruce and put on 44 in positive fashion before Ford held the Australian captain nimbly at slip, letting Frank Iredale in for a long and decisive innings. Bruce stayed with him while 98 were added, the left-hander scoring faster and more attractively, and pleasing the onlooking Blackham, who remarked that Bruce had taken a lot of persuading to take time off from his legal work to play in this Test. And he needed the runs to make his place safe.
He reached 80, and there was little time remaining, when he slapped a Briggs long-hop into Brockwell’s waiting hands on the square-leg fence. His knock had lasted only 110 minutes, and he and Iredale had just taken 19 off a Lockwood over. A century had seemed certain. At last Stoddart ceased to resemble a model for a statue of Melancholy.
There was a further morsel of encouragement that evening when Darling played weakly at Lockwood and was caught behind, but at 145 for 4, Iredale a solid 31 and limping from a turned ankle, Australia were already 259 ahead.
A day of rest behind them, the players stepped out into cooler conditions, the inhuman heat of the previous week having abated. ‘I can’t help thinking,’ wrote one reporter, ‘that many failures of the first few days were attributable as much as anything else to the roasting weather, for want of sleep all night and iced drinks all day play up with the liver and the eyesight.’
There was another large attendance, banks and government offices having been shut for a half-holiday, and they were in a good humour in view of the match situation. Peel’s dropping of a return catch from Iredale did nothing to damage the happy mood, and accident-prone Lockwood hurt his hand and left the field, bringing none other than Albert Trott on as a substitute, and rendering Stoddart’s face melancholic once more. Philipson’s error in flooring an edge by Gregory off Richardson worsened matters. Iredale reached his fifty, and the only complaint the spectators had was when Albert Trott completed a wonderful piece of fielding before Lockwood came back on.
Gregory, supposedly less at ease on Adelaide’s faster pitch, reached 20 before a ball from Richardson cannoned from his leg into his stumps: 197 for 5. And England fought back some more when Richardson bowled Harry out of Test cricket soon after the Victorian had late-cut him sweetly for four. Worrall started with a similar shot, but Richardson manfully kept the pressure on, with Briggs curling the ball from the other end, first over then round the wicket. Iredale, moving into the eighties, was the big obstacle.
Worrall went next, misjudging against Briggs and spooning a catch; but Jarvis began hitting boundaries without delay, and Iredale moved towards his hundred. A back-cut off Brockwell seemed to give him the century, if they could scramble four. He and Jarvis sprinted as the crowd’s roar swelled, and Iredale’s hundred was made safe, in 190 minutes. It had surely secured Australia’s position?
On the stroke of lunch, Jarvis—to his disbelief—was caught by Brown at point off Peel for 29, and Australia went in at 283 for 8, ‘Jarvie’ disconsolate at his dismissal, slowly shaking his head and saying, ‘I was in great nick.’
By now the lead was 397, but there was nothing untoward about the pitch, and Giffen wanted a bigger advantage. Albert Trott went out with Iredale, determined to meet his skipper’s request.
Iredale was seeing the ball large, and found the boundary a few more times, but Trott was extremely close to being run out when Ward’s smart throw was taken one-handed by Peel, who whipped off the bails. Umpire Jim Phillips’s high reputation saw to it that his ‘not out’ verdict was queried by no-one.
For 4½ hours Iredale had been batting when, at 140, he received the worst ball of the match, a chest-high full-toss from Peel. Trying to place it for his 18th four, the Sydney man lobbed a return catch, ‘neither Peel nor Iredale being able to keep a serious face over such an unexpected conclusion’. It was 347 for 9, and Callaway joined Trott. They had put on an extraordinary 81 for the 10th wicket in the first innings. It would be more than the Englishmen could bear if something similar happened now. It did.
‘By jingo, I wish we had him,’ Giffen said of Trott the ‘Australian baby’. But there was no real chance of the Victorian’s moving across to South Australia. It seemed a feeler had already been put out for him on behalf of Sussex. And now he raised his market value further by adding 64 with Callaway for the last wicket, and again finishing not out, this time with 72. England’s fielders had ‘developed the art of foot fielding lately’, and who could blame them? Few things are more disheartening than last-wicket stands when the deficit is already over 450.
Callaway left most of the runmaking to his truculent partner, and when Richardson was rewarded with his eighth wicket of the match when he breached Callaway’s defence, young Albert had banked 110 runs in his first Test match, elder brother Harry marvelling, Who’d have thought the kid could do it?’ His unbeaten 72 came in 90 minutes, with 11 fours. And now he fancied a bowl.
It was, of course, a Test without time-limit, so England could look at no refuge in a draw, even if the weather intervened. Five hundred and twenty-six was the target, and the Australians understandably anticipated victory.
MacLaren and Ward gave England an encouraging start, 50 coming in an hour or so, with a bonus of a dropped catch—by Harry Trott off a fierce MacLaren cut—which would have given Albert Trott his first Test wicket. But it soon came, the same batsman lofting him out to the safe hands of Iredale. And straightaway Trott split a stump in bowling Ward. Philipson came in as nightwatchman, and Giffen was too good for him too, leaving England 56 for 3 at the close, Stoddart still on I, Brown 2, little hope left, and Brown still feeling the pain of a knock from Trott.
No more than 1500 turned up on the Tuesday to see the expected Australian victory, but those who were there felt they might have the additional delight of a top Stoddart innings, especially when he drove Trott the length of Adelaide Oval. But the captain reverted to extreme watchfulness, and was to spend 100 minutes over his 34 not out by the time his troops were all vanquished.
Brown went first, playing on to the irresistible Trott, who then had Stoddart dropped by Giffen at slip. Brockwell tried to gain some sort of initiative, but at 24 he hit one hard back at Trott, who parried the ball with one hand and clasped the rebound. Peel then bagged his ‘pair’ by returning the softest of catches to Trott: 102 for 6. Two more wickets fell at 128, Ford, having landed a ball from Giffen into the members’ pavilion, between two defenceless ladies, was caught by Harry Trott off his brother, and Briggs was bowled by Trott for nought, and lucky to make that. Lockwood let rip, only to see Iredale run hard for the catch and secure it, probably the best of a number in this match. This was Trott’s eighth wicket of the innings, with one to fall. He took it, but as a fielder: Richardson, having tormented Giffen with some big hitting, edged him and Albert’s large hands wrapped round the ball. Having bowled throughout both England innings—61.1 overs—Giffen had taken 7 for 150. But the name on everyone’s lips was the newcomer from Melbourne, Albert Edwin Trott, who had taken 8 for 43 to go with his 110 runs, undefeated, in his maiden Test match. No debutant had matched those figures 100 years and over 1200 Tests later.
Trott and his captain were carried shoulder-high from the field, and soon the telegrams and prizes were pouring in, while Drewy Stoddart put down his pipe in the dining-room and answered the call to make a speech. He did it with his customary grace. His team could take their defeat. They had lost not to the weather or to bad luck. They had been beaten by a side which had played vastly better cricket. He had picked out young Trott some time earlier as a fine prospect, and he hoped he would be seen in England. And with that, he congratulated Australia on the victory, and meant every word.
Meanwhile, Albert Trott was fast being created a national hero, deified in one cartoon, and cleverly presented in a piece of rhyme.
(The Kangaroo to Mr Stoddart):
You didn’t expect it, my sonny?
Yet, truly, complain you must not;
For you wanted ‘a run’ for your money,
And, complying, I gave you ‘a. trott’.
‘Cause of Defeat’—England’s cricketers allegedly on the booze
during the Adelaide Test. Some critics never bothered pulling
their punches.
Adelaide Oval, January 11, 12, 14, 15, 1895
Toss: Australia
Debuts: Australia—J Harry, AE Trott
12th Men: CTB Turner (Aust) and LH Gay (Eng)
Umpires: J Phillips and GHG Searcy
Attendances: 5000, 12,000, 9000, 1500. Total: About 27,500 Receipts: £1154
Close of play: 1st day Eng 0-5 (MacLaren 1, Briggs 4); 2nd day Aust (2) 4-145 (Iredale
31); 3rd day Eng (2) 3-56 (Stoddart 1, Brown 2).
AUSTRALIA WON BY 382 RUNS
