George Coulthard, born August 1, 1856, was an early colossus of Australian Rules Football, a talented cricketer and a versatile man of many talents who attracted career threatening controversies and life threatening sharks with equal elan. In this series Pradip Dhole sketches the extraordinarily interesting life of this extraordinarily interesting man.
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Click to Read Part 2
George Coulthard made his Test debut as an umpire in the 3rd Test of all, at the MCG, from Jan 2, 1879. Billed initially as a “timeless” match, the Test had been completed in 3 days, the Australians winning the contest quite comprehensively by 10 wickets by the 4th of Jan/1879. One of the highlights of the Test was the bowling of Fred Spofforth in the England 1st innings, when he had figures of 25-9-48-6, his best performance with the ball till date. This analysis included a hat-trick with the wickets of Vernon Royle, Francis McKinnon, and Tom Emmett, the very first hat-trick in the history of Test cricket. Interestingly, this 3rd Test match in the chronological list of Test cricket, and played at the MCG, also happened to be the debut first-class match in the umpiring career of George Coulthard.
His next first-class match as umpire was in the game between NSW and the Englishmen at the Association Ground, Sydney, and played over four days beginning on the Ja 24, 1879. His co-umpire for the game was Mr WC Goddard, a more experienced official, having made his first-class umpiring debut about three years previously. The home team won the match by 5 wickets. An interesting feature of this game had been the absence of Dave Gregory from the NSW team. According to Chris Harte and Bernard Whimpress in their book The Penguin History of Australian Cricket, “Gregory himself had been dropped from the first match, held in late January, because he had failed to attend pre-match practice and had ignored the selectors’ requests for an explanation.” The authors hint that this streak of obstinance in Gregory may have been “considerably responsible” for the events of Feb 8, 1879 at Moore Park.
The match notes quote daily attendances of 4,000, 10,000,15,000, and 5,000, giving a grand total of 34,000 spectators for the match, a very good turnout. Some individual landmarks were reached in the English camp. Skipper Lord Harris crossed 4,000 first-class runs, and the only two professional cricketers in the camp, selected primarily for their bowling skills, George Ulyett and Tom Emmett, reached the landmarks of 200 and 800 first-class wickets respectively. The contest was enjoyed by all and the match was conducted in a peaceful atmosphere.
The same, however, could not be said about Coulthard’s 3rd first-class match in the long white coat.
The Storm
In his book A Symbolic Patch of Grass: Crowd Disorder and Regulation on the SCG Hill, Rob Lynch had written: ''While the SCG is the grand old lady of Australian sporting stadia, the Hill is her larrikin son. A son prone to stray into the seamier side of life, to push the collective to its limits, to imbibe, to carouse and transgress.'' The match under discussion was to be a perfect example of the above assertion.
The match between the local NSW team and the touring Englishmen began quietly enough on Friday, the Feb 7, 1879 at the Association Ground of Sydney, a part of Moore Park, with Lord Harris going out to toss with the bearded Dave Gregory, now reinstated as the captain of the NSW team. Winning the toss, Lord Harris decided to bat first. The designated umpires for the game were Edmund “Toby” Barton of Sydney, officiating in his 4th and last first-class match, and later to assume the august chair of the first Prime Minister of Australia, and George Coulthard of Melbourne, officiating in his 3rd first-class match although he had not yet made his first-class playing debut.
Much has been written by scholarly cricket historians about the unsavoury incidents associated with this particular game, which has gone down in history on account of the infamous Sydney Riot of 1879, the first riot to occur in an International cricket match, and witnessed by the Governor of Victoria, Sir George Bowen, who happened to be present on the ground in person on the fateful day. The basic facts of the match were as follows:
The bare fact that both Gregory and Spofforth were in the playing XI for NSW for this game had encouraged bookmakers to offer “attractive odds against the Englishmen winning.”
The Englishmen totalled 267 all out in 120 4-ball overs in their 1st innings, with the first 3 batsmen in the list all scoring fifties (AN “Monkey” Hornby 67, AP “Bunny” Lucas 51, and professional cricketer George Ulyett 55). Skipper Lord Harris, batting at # 4, contributed 41 runs. During His Lordship’s innings, he had allegedly been caught behind once by Billy Murdoch, but the vociferous appeals from the field had been turned down by umpire Coulthard, to the annoyance of the opposition, and more importantly, of the spectators thronging the stands, and particularly the famous Sydney Hill. This was to be one of the contributory factors that were to precipitate the notorious Sydney Riot of the next day.
For the local team, Fred Spofforth (5/93) and Edwin Evans (5/62) picked up all the wickets, although two other bowlers had also been in operation.
The 1st day’s play ended with the NSW team on 53/2, with opening batsman and designated wicketkeeper Billy Murdoch batting on 28 and his partner Hugh Massie batting on 3, and the 3rd wicket had realised 16 runs till stumps of Day 1.
Play got underway shortly after the noon hour on Saturday, the second day, in front of about 10,000 eager spectators, and the second NSW wicket, that of Massie (38), fell at the team score of 107, ending a 3rd wicket stand of 70 very valuable runs. The 4th wicket fell at 130, with the remaining 6 wickets falling at short intervals. The NSW team was bowled out at about 3:30 in the afternoon for 177 runs from 117.3 overs, with the valiant Murdoch carrying his bat for a well-complied 82.
Yorkshireman Tom Emmett, the other professional cricketer in the English squad, had bowling figures of 51.3-27-47-8.
With a 1st innings deficit of 90 runs, NSW were invited to follow on, the extant law in vogue since 1854 making it compulsory to impose the follow on if the difference in the 1st innings totals of the two teams was 80 runs or more.
The second innings of the home side got underway late on the Saturday afternoon as Murdoch and Bannerman emerged from the dressing room to open the batting.
NSW were very soon in trouble when, within about twenty minutes of batting, and with the total on 19, the 1st innings hero Murdoch was declared run out by umpire Colthatrd for a mere 10 runs.
Trouble erupts
Trouble immediately erupted in the Members’ Pavilion, the stands and on the ground. In his book ‘Ave a Go, Yer Mug!, Richard Cashman mentions prompt and repeated volleys of “Not out”, “Go back, Murdoch,” and “Another umpire!” As reported by Cashman, the dissenters around the ground “were led, according to the Australasian of Feb 15,1879, by ‘a well-known and ill-favoured bookmaker’ who had backed the local side to the extent of nearly £ 1,000.” No more play was possible for the rest of the second day of the match.
On the Monday morning, a delegation of NSW Cricket Association members met Lord Harris and apologised profusely for the events of Saturday, whereupon, Lord Harris consented to lead his team out once again to complete the match.
Following overnight rain, the condition of the pitch had deteriorated considerably. With the unfortunate incidents of the previous day still fresh in their minds, the NSW team capitulated rather tamely on the 3rd day of the game to be all out for 49, scored off 55 overs and in a total of 85 minutes of batting. There were 6 individual ducks in the innings, and the highest individual score was the 20 scored by opening batsman Alec Bannerman.
Tom Emmett (5/21) and George Ulyett (4/13) were the wicket-takers for the tourists. Ulyett’s 4 wickets included a hattrick (Evans, Tindall, and Gregory); he also had 4 wickets in 4 balls with the dismissal of Spoffforth.
An interesting sidelight of the match was played out at the conclusion of the game. The then British Naval Commander-in-Chief, Australia Station, Commodore John Wilson, stationed at Sydney, had given his sailors the day off on Monday to go to the ground and witness the remainder of the game. His instructions to his subordinate staff were clear: they were to be on the lookout for anyone who attempted to molest any of the English cricketers, and to spring immediately into action at the slightest hint of trouble. The “tars” arrived at the ground in large numbers on the last day of the game. After the quick denouement of the game, about 200 or so of the “larrikins” made a rush for the umpire from Melbourne. Coulthard, a more than capable pugilist in his own right, requested the English contingent to gather behind him and not to interfere while he dealt with the ruffians one by one. A score or so of the Commodore’s men suddenly materialised as if out of nowhere and waded into the ruffians, laying them low in quick time, and allowing the English contingent and umpire Coulthard to pass into the safety of the pavilion without further trouble.
· The attendance for the 3 days of the game was recorded as follows: 4,000, 10,000, and 1,500.
· At the end of the tumultuous match, the Englishmen emerged winners by an innings and 41 runs.
The sequence of on- and off-field events immediately following the decision of run out given against local favourite and 1st innings hero Murdoch by umpire Coulthard on the fateful Saturday was to generate a deluge of activity both in the contemporary local media and in later writings by cricket historians. To this day, the Sydney Riot of 1879 is seen as having been one of the most controversial incidents ever to have taken place on and off the cricket field.
Harte and Whimpress state that “The first sign of trouble after Murdoch’s dismissal came from the Members’ pavilion, then, as now, sited at an angle to the batting crease so the spectators there could not possibly have judged the fairness or otherwise of Coulthard’s decision (said, later, to have been very close but accurate.)”
The Sydney Morning Herald was scathing in its disapproval of the behaviour of the onlookers, being particularly critical of the personnel ensconced in the Members’ Pavilion: “The pavilion is supposed to be the rendezvous of the elite of the cricketing community, and it ought to give the tone to the expression of opinion on the ground. But merely local sympathies have been unfortunately over-represented there, and, what is far worse, a large betting element exists almost undisguised, although contrary to rule… The pavilion was really responsible, to no small extent, for the riot….”
The Argus (Melbourne) of Feb 13, 1879, quoting the report published in the Sydney Morning Herald made the censorious comment: “Such a display of unbridled rowdyism, perpetrated as it was in the presence of His Excellency the Governor, Lady Robinson, and party, and a large number of prominent citizens of Sydney, and directed against the English players who are at present our guests, will probably remain as a blot upon the colony for some years to come…”
A very serious remark follows the above statement: “The moment the decision was given the disturbance commenced, and it is a significant fact that the hooting and groaning proceeded first of all from about a dozen persons in the pavilion, some of whom, at all events, were known to be pecuniarily interested in the result of the match (the bold letters have been inserted by the chronicler). One well-known betting man himself acted as fugleman, and the crowd outside, encouraged by his bad example, worked themselves into a state of violent excitement and presently broke through all bounds of decency and fair play.” NSW skipper Dave Gregory added fuel to the already smouldering passions of the partisan crowd by refusing to send any batsman out to take Murdoch’s place at the wicket.
Cry for removal
A cry was raised around the ground demanding the withdrawal of Coulthard from any further umpiring role in the match. That fact that the umpire under the critical scrutiny of the spectators was a Melbourne man and a member of the English entourage, as it were, was an additional, and very important provocation for the crowd. This Coulthard had already alienated himself considerably from the affections of the Sydney fans around the ground by ruling Lord Harris not out in the English 1st innings and every man in the stands was prepared to swear that the Harris decision had been a definite and very prejudiced indication of Coulthard’s allegiance to the blue-blooded English skipper, and that the decision had very definitely been biased in favour of the visitors.
In this context, the opinion of Mr. WC Goddard, who had himself been Coulthard’s colleague in the white coat in the game about a fortnight ago, seems to carry a special significance. In his letter dated Feb 8, 1879 to the Editor of the Echo, Mr. Goddard says: “Whatever may be the opinion of the public as to whether, the decision of the umpire in Mr. Murdoch’s case was right or wrong, the question that immediately followed was that he (the umpire) should be removed from the position. The Law on the subject is very clear, viz, that ‘No umpire is to be changed during a match unless with the consent of both parties, except he be found betting on the match, in which case either party may dismiss him’.”
The first invasion of the playing area, initially attributed to a handful of “larrikins sitting at the bottom of the terrace and within the boundary fence” followed at this point. This first group was immediately followed by “hundreds of roughs, who took possession of the wickets. The English team soon found themselves in the centre of surging, gesticulating and shouting mob, and one rowdy struck Lord Harris across the body with a whip or stick.” It is said that one of the intruders on the field of play that day had been Andrew Barton Paterson, more commonly known as “Banjo” Paterson, who was to later pen the lyrics of one of the most popular Australian songs of all time, Waltzing Matilda.
The word ‘larrikin’ is an Australian English term meaning "a mischievous young person, an uncultivated, rowdy but good-hearted person", or "a person who acts with apparent disregard for social or political conventions". The Cambridge Dictionary defines a larrikin as being “a young man who behaves in a very rude, offensive, and sometimes violent way.” Let us rest our case here, then.
Seeing his aristocratic skipper physically assaulted from the back by a cowardly ruffian, “Monkey” Hornby, as proficient at cricket as at boxing and wrestling, tackled the alleged striker and marched him to the pavilion, leaving him under the custody of the appropriate authorities. It is reported that Hornby had lost the shirt off his back in the ensuing scuffle.
According to the Sydney Morning Herald, “… a number of gentlemen from the pavilion and grandstand (including the trustees of the ground and members of the Cricket Association) hurried to the assistance of the English team, who might otherwise have been seriously maltreated, but as the mob were evidently bent upon rescuing Mr. Hornby’s prisoner, a scene of confusion ensued and blows were received and returned… ” Lord Harris is reputed to have landed a few blows on his own behalf. The inadequate police contingent deployed at the ground were easily overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the rough element on the ground.
It took some time for the English team members to be escorted back to the pavilion, where His Lordship’s assailant was locked up in a Committee Room. Lord Harris had tried to remain on the ground as long as possible so that Gregory could not claim the match on the grounds that the Englishmen had conceded the game by abandoning the field of play. When spoken to by Lord Harris at the pavilion gate, Gregory was not amenable to any persuasion about the need for sending in the next batsman however, and also took up the cry about the need to relieve Coulthard of his umpiring duties for the match and to replace him with another umpire.
It also transpired that an allegation was raised from the mob that one or other of the Englishmen on the ground had used the insulting remark “sons of convicts” when the first signs of trouble had broken out. Fingers were pointed towards the two Yorkshire professionals, Ulyett and Emmett, in this regard. Around this time, there was an ominous gathering “of two or three thousand people on the cricket area and in front of the pavilion, and the bell rang for clearing the ground.”
While at the pavilion gate and amid discussions with Gregory about sending in the next batsman, it had come to His Lordship’s notice that some of the more unruly elements on the ground were about to make a physical assault on umpire Coulthard. Sensing further trouble, Lord Harris, accompanied by several of his team members, hurried back to the ground in an attempt to protect the hapless umpire. They may have been a trifle late, as reported by the media, because Coulthard was reported to have been favoured with some blows about his person in the melee even as he had stood steadfast.
It was about 5 o’çlock by now but Gregory was still adamant that play could only proceed if Coulthard was replaced. In desperation, Lord Harris had sought the opinion of the other umpire, Edmund Barton, as to whether, with the NSW batsmen not being on the field of play, the Englishmen could claim the match by the forfeiture of the home team. Barton had reportedly informed the English captain: “I’ll give it to you in two minutes if they don’t return.”
Play resumes
It had taken about twenty minutes to clear the ground before play could get underway once again. Having been prevailed upon by the saner elements among the men who mattered, Gregory had at last relented to the extent of sending Nat Thomson in along with the not out batsman Alec Bannerman to resume the innings. However, as soon as the discerning crowd noticed that umpire Coulthard had not, in fact, been substituted, there was a second invasion of the playing area. Although several of the more mature gentlemen present tried their best to dissuade the mob from interrupting the game by their presence on the ground, play had to be adjourned once again, and the cricketers returned to the pavilion.
Back in the pavilion, Lord Harris and Dave Gregory again took up the issue of resumption of play. Gregory, however, stuck to his guns about the need to change the umpire. The English contingent, on the other hand, were equally adamant that they would not countenance any such change. In the event, the bell was once more rung and the ground was once more cleared, and another attempt was made to resume play.
The Furore
This precipitated the third invasion of the playing are by a mob of about “300 men and larrikins” who “repeated the performance of taking possession of the ground, and (who) remained there until nearly 8 o’clock, when all hopes of resuming play were abandoned. There were about 10,000 spectators present during the afternoon, and it is only fair to say that of this number, there were not more than 2,000, at the outside, who took an active part in the disorder.” The umpires then had no option but to call off play for the day.
One of the players in the thick of the action on that Saturday was Yorkshire professional George Ulyett. In his compilation Talks with Old England Cricketers, compiler “Old Ebor” (Alfred William Pullin) quotes Ulyett as saying: “… Mr. Murdoch and Alec Bannerman opened the second innings, and the first-named hit one to cover-point where the finest cover fielder I ever saw was on duty – Mr. VF Royle. He had the ball back like lightning, and Mr. Murdoch was run out by a good two yards. He went away, but the people in the pavilion, who could not possibly see the incident properly, shouted out “Go back; you’re not out!’ They would not send another man in, and the crowd rush(ed) into the field, what a lively time we had!”
At the end of it all, The Sydney Morning Herald published a letter to the Editor written by Mr. Edmund Barton, the other umpire for the game under discussion, on Page 5 of their Feb 13, 1879 edition, as follows:
“Sir, With the desire of removing any misapprehension which may exist concerning the conduct of affairs in the recent match, allow me to state the following facts:-
“I am not aware that any concession of any nature whatsoever was made except by Lord Harris, who on one occasion at least might have claimed the match on appeal to me as umpire. But for his forbearance under peculiarly aggravating circumstances the action of the mob on Saturday would have brought the match to a sudden end, and given the victory to Lord Harris’s team without further trouble. I saw no trace of unfairness in the decision given by Coulthard (the bold letters have been inserted by the chronicler), and I cannot see how the visiting Eleven could have taken any other course than that which they did take.
“It has been said and printed that one of the two English professionals uttered grossly insulting expressions to the crowd when the riot was in progress. Both of them have publicly denied the truth of the charge. I desire to add that from what I have seen of both of them, I believe them to be honest and incapable of having acted or spoken in such a way as to lay themselves open to any accusation whatever; and I close this letter by saying that their denial ought certainly to be believed.”
Lord Harris, in his righteous, aristocratic wrath, cancelled what would have been the 2nd Test match of the series, slated for Sydney, and vowed never to return to Australia to play cricket, returning with his team to Melbourne. The fallout of the incident included two men being charged with public disorder, and several members of the Club, including a well-known book-maker, being expelled from the Association and being expelled from the ground.
His anger had still not been assuaged initially by the time Billy Murdoch led the Australians to England in 1880, and it had taken a lot of persuasion by the powers that be for His Lordship to relent and arrange for what would later be the very first Test match played on English soil, although three members of the English XI at Sydney during the fateful game, Hornby, Emmett, and Ulyett, refused to turn out against the Australians of 1880, but that is another story altogether.
Greatly agitated by the events of Feb 8, 1879, the England skipper Lord Harris gave vent to his feelings on the subject in a letter to his friend Vyell Edward “Teddy” Walker, of the famous Middlesex cricketing brotherhood of Arnos Vale, dated Feb 11, 1879. Realising the implications of the epistle, VE Walker thought it appropriate to forward it to the Daily Telegraph on Mar 31, 1879 with the request that it be published verbatim. The salient points raised by Lord Harris have already been discussed above. Two of his assertions appear to be significant here: that he was positive the disturbance had been initiated from the Members’ Pavilion, and that he was unaware of the fierce inter-colonial rivalry in Australia at the time. The allegations of widespread betting and the presence on the ground of numerous bookmakers is a recurrent theme in his rather long letter, as is the issue of the boorish behaviour of the partisan crowd.
The publication of an essentially private communication in the public domain, and particularly, the contents of the letter, ruffled several feathers in Australia. The New South Wales Cricket Association (NSWCA) convened a special meeting at Tattersall’s Hotel in Sydney on the evening of 4 June/1879 to discuss the letter and to formulate a suitable response to it. The meeting was chaired by Richard Driver, President of the Association from 1871 to 1880. Several luminaries addressed the gathering, including Sir George Innes, KCMG, MLC, Mr. MH Stephen, QC, Mr. GH Reid, and Mr. Richard Teece. In the end, Mr. JM Gibson, honorary Secretary of the NSWCA, composed a reply to Lord Harris’s letter onJune 4, 1879, and the letter was subsequently published in such papers as the Sydney Echo, The Argus, and the Mercury.
The main objection to the letter written by Lord Harris, perhaps in the heat of the moment, had supposedly been its accusatory attitude, and the NSWCA had taken grave exception to that. Feeling that Lord Harris’s letter had been “both inaccurate and ungenerous,” the NSWCA pointed out that a deputation of office-bearers of the Association had already met His Lordship on Feb 10, 1879 to apologise profusely for the events of 8 Feb, and to point out that the English skipper had assured the NSWCA that he did not hold the brouhaha against the Association, nor could he impute any responsibility for the disturbance on the Association. Mr. Gibson also pointed out that immediately after the disorder was over, “the public and the press were loud in their indignation at the occurrence, and assured our visitors of their utmost sympathy; and the team received similar marks of good feeling from all quarters.”
Indeed, The Sydney Morning Herald called the riot a “a blot upon the colony for some years to come.” Even Wisden felt the need to vent national feelings about the event, referring to the incident as “a deplorably disgraceful affair” and describing the spectators as a “rough and excited mob”.
Regarding the allegation of betting emanating from the Members’ Pavilion, Mr. Gibson made the point that: “ betting on cricket matches is strictly prohibited by the trustees of the ground, so far as it can be so prohibited, and large placards to that effect have always been kept posted throughout the pavilion and its inclosures.” Mr. Gibson took grave exception to Lord Harris’s comment: “that a party of gentlemen travelling through these colonies for the purpose of playing a few friendly games of cricket should have been insulted and subjected to indignities, whilst the press and inhabitants of Sydney neither showed surprise, indignation, nor regret,” feeling that this was a particularly libellous statement, calling the very character of the inhabitants of the host country into question.
Mr. Gibson’s letter emphasises the fact that there had never been any intention of animosity against the Englishmen. On the other hand, the dissatisfaction exhibited by the spectators had been wholly directed against “the professional brought from Melbourne to act as umpire for the English Eleven.” Gibson felt that the spectators were convinced that both the “life” awarded to His Lordship himself in the 1st innings by Coulthard after the appeal for caught behind, and the run out decision against Murdoch, who they were convinced was not out, had been deliberate ploys by Coulthard to give the Englishmen an unfair advantage in the game.
In hindsight, it was probably propitious that the English tour of Australia ended on 10 Mar/1879. The publication of the Harris letter on Mar 31, 1879 in England and the subsequent correspondence from Australia in late May and early June had threatened to sour cricketing relations between England and Australia. Understandably, Lord Harris, a pillar of the English cricket establishment, had been very agitated by the events of 8/Feb at Moore Park, having had first-hand experience of the riot. The barrage of correspondence on the issue in the contemporary press from both sides had not helped matters. It would take some time for the coolness to thaw.