The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1876-07-01 00:00:00

A EUENB I'EUNI LORD'S CRICKET

GROUND.

To our great and good mother Queen Victoria across the
big water, we the Iroquis Indians of Caughnawaga, near the
city of Montreal, at the head of the mighty rapids of Lachine
send you our true love and loyalty. We hope to see you
some day in this great land which once belonged only to the
Indians; but we hope you will come and look upon us play-
ing our own great game of La Crosse in England against the
pale-faced young men of Canada, who now play our game
like us, and sometimes beat us in fair play. But the
English were always a brave people, and the Indians love
and trust them. When the English soldier dies, he dies
firm, like an Indian He makes no cry. Good Queen, our
forefathers were once one p3ople, and became the six nations.
They were first in war, first in eloquence, first in loyal love
to the English. Our warriors carried victory in the war-path
from Quebec to the Carolinas, and from the prairies of the
West to the forests of Maine. They feared no foe—they
loved the war-path as a bird loves the air. The war-whoop
wasets a sweet sound. They fought every enemy and extermi-
nated many tribes, and made the foes of their people scAtter
like leaves in the wood before the wind. At the council-fire,
at the chase, on the war-path, in the playing-field, the
Iroquois were the first. Great Queen, our young men used
to play La Crosse on the prairies and at the forts before
your brave soldiers When other tribes were against
the English the Ircquois always were true. When death
with torture came the Iroquois still kept true. When
Pontiac, the great head chief, planned to kill your
brave soldiers and asked the Iroquois to join, our fore-
fathers kicked the war-belt of wampum and would not
go, because they and the English were friEnds. On the
4th of June, 1713, the birthday of our great father King
George, at Fort Michilllmachinac, your brave soldiers of the
55th and 80th Regiments were killed by Indians. A great
game of La Crosse was played to put them off their guard,
and when the ball was thrown into the fort the Indians ran in
as if for the ball and killed your soldiers. Our forefathers,
the Iroquois, did not join in this. It is the same game
which the palefaces of Canada have adopted from us and
which wo want your people to tee : and we would like all your
children to see it, because we played it before the Prince of
Wales and Prince Arthur. Will you, great and good Queen,
hear the petition of ycur Indian children? God save the
Queen "
The "pale-faces," as they are called in this loyal
address of the Iroquois, were next presented, and then
the game began. At either goal were stationed two
umpires, those for the red-skins being Mr. William
Waddell, of the London Athletic Club, and Mr. Byrne,
agent for the Province of Ontario; while those for the
Canadian gentlemen were Dr. Archer and Dr. Balkwell.
Most readers are now familiar at least with the general
nature of the game, and it is only necessary to say that
a spirited goal was played and won by the whites,
who have greatly improved by recent practice ever
since their visit to the British Isles. In the
excitement of the game the ball was tossed some-
times amid the long rye-grass on the opposite side
of the path bounding the lawn on the north side, some-
times very near the Royal carriage, and once under the
legs of the outrider's herse, much to the amusement of
the company. When the goal had been won, just as
six o'clock was striking from St. George's Chapel, the
Iroquois chief slowly advanced to the Queen with a
beautiful basket of Indian grass, which her Majesty
took very graciously from his hands. Then followed
the most pleasing episode of the little drama; and all
those who have read the appreciative descriptions of
Indian grace in the pages of Mrs. Jamieson and other
truthful as well as graphic writers may credit the
statement that these Iroquois carried themselves with
a forest manliness very pleating to behold, as each in
turn, bowing at the silo of the Royal chaise, received
from the Queen's hand a photographic portrait of her
Majesty, in what is generally known as cabinet size,
the artists being Messrs. W. and D. Downey, of
Newcastle-on-Tyne. After the red men had passed by,
in true Indian file, their white antagonists in the
friendly game likewise had the honour each of receiving
from her Majesty's hands the same gift; abd it should
be mentioned that the Queen had written her name on
each portrait. If she could have known the emotion
with which each recipient afterwards spoke of the gift,
her own pleagure would have been almost as great.
Before the carriage drove off, Dr. Beers, captein of the
Canadian team, called for "Three cheers f r her Most
Gracious Mej.sty, our Yeloved Sovereign;" and it is
needless to say that the response was a hearty one.
After the Queen's departure all the players, the few
visitors, and the gentlemen who had given their ser-
vice—a sinecure, as it happened—as umpires, were
entertained at a d6edner in the Orangery,• and then,
re-entering the carriages which had brought them to
the Castle, they drove to the Eton playing flak's,
where Mr. Forbes, captain of the school eleven,
assembled all the boys who had been practicing—a
goodly number. As the Canadian La Crosse
players and. their Indian opponents were going
to Manchester that same night, and were there-
fore obliged to catch the train that was to start
at twenty-five minutes past eight from Windsor
for London, there was not time to finish a game; but,
'before it became necessary to draw the goals, some of
the hottest,' 1, ever remembered by old La Crosse
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The following is an extract from the Daily News, descrip-
tive of Lord's Cricket ground whilst the annual cricket match
between the representatives of Oxford and Cambridge Uni-
versities was being played on Monday :

The University match is a very interesting event to
the cricketer, and to society it is a kind of event also.
It is the largest picnic, except the Schools match, in
the world, and people who study costume with ardour
may graiify their taste at Lord's. On a fine day, and
Monday was a perfect day, ladies do their best to
prove the falseness of the saying that woman has no
invention. If invention be not display in raiment
of every hue, from the morbid and melancholy
yellows and sage greens of the msthetic, to
the nameless purples, and cruel blues and reds
of the less reflective where then is fancy to
be found? The spectacle is a highly satisfactory one
to the indiscriminate lover of colour, and when every
one walks about at luncheon, or between the innings,
the sight is certainly lively. During the course of the
game, the serried ring of ladies would be very like a
parterre of flowers, if flowers were variegated parasols,
and man, in his diluted way, does his best for harmony
and the picturesque by aid of white hats and pink
neckties. Everyone knows-the sort of spectacle which
Lord's displays at a University match which is
favoured with brilliant weather. The pavilion, crowded
with men from the roof to the ground, makes a great
dark mass in the centre. On its wings are the encic-
sures for members and their friends, and here are
awnings and shad-e, except in block "A," where the
nature of things does not allow of any awning, and
where the heat of the day is lamented. All round the
rest of the ring are the carriages and drags with their
occupants, the prettiest part of the show, a dream of
fair women. Behind these, in a lest and desperate
condition, walk many ,thousands of our fellow crea-
tures, who cannot possibly see what is going on, who
crane their necks and leap in the air to find out
whether a wicket taken or a good hit is causing the
cheering which they join in, like young Pottinger,
"with enthusiasm, but obviously in perfect darkness
as to what is taking place.' Very many of these
elegant outcasts seem to make themselves happy by
Bitting under the Grand Stand, in the shade, whence
they see quite as much of the cricket as they are at all
likely to understand.
To tell truth, every time one -visits Lord's, one comes
away more and more impressed with the inability of
the female mind to understand the game. Possibly
Mrs. Somerville might have come to learn what the
business of long-stop is if she had given her powers to
the problem quite early in life, and had worked at it
with her wonderful perseverancei and aptitude for
science. But Mrs. Somerville did not take the trouble,
and persons like her are rare. These gloomy views are
the result, not of attempting to teach ladies the nature
of the game—to attempt that requires the confidence
of youth • but of listening furtively to the explanations
which they impart to each other. Thus the elder
(and therefore less educated) lady will whisper, "My
dear, why do they all run across, when the bowler says
Oh dear-l" "He doesn't say Oh dear,' he says
Over.'"
"And what does Over' mean?" s
Here a difficulty occurs which the teacher finds it
well to evade, by exclaiming, "Oh, what a beautiful
hit," when some one puts up a ball between the slips.
The attention of both is then concentrated on " that
extraordinary creature in tulle," or barPge, or grenadin!,
or whatever it may be, whose extraordinariness is
quite beyond the power of man to appreciate and
admire