Headingley, 1926.
Off the very first ball of the match bowled by Maurice Tate, Warren Bardsley attempted a leg-glance. The ball came off the back of the bat and was beautifully caught low down at slip by Herbert Sutcliffe.
Charlie Macartney was in as early as the second ball and cut the first delivery for two. In the previous Test he had struck a serene 133 not out.
And with the fifth ball of the over, Tate induced him to snick towards the third slip. The captain Arthur Carr himself stood there, it came to him somewhat wide but at a very catchable height near the waist. Hobbs and Macartney both later wrote it was a difficult chance, but they were being generous. Warner called it a nasty one, but he is not exactly the most authentic source of information. Carr, a brilliant close in fielder, easily got both his hands to it and clasped it hard, and out it popped again. Macartney had been missed — the most ill-advised of reprieves.
What would have happened if Carr had taken the catch? Especially after he had put Australia in? “He would probably have been called a Napoleon of cricket,” Warner wrote later.
What followed was tragic from Carr’s point of view, but one of the most glorious sessions of batsmanship ever. The clouds converged on the ground again, the wicket did not dry and turn vicious as expected. Macartney smashed the England attack all over Headingley. He pulverised all the bowlers with the exception of Tate. And even Tate confessed, “I didn’t know where to bowl at him, he was irresistible.”
His timing was perfection itself, and he essayed every sort of stroke, with attacking shots irrespective of length. The runs just flowed as he drove, cut and pulled his way to 51 out of 64 and then 100 in 80 minutes out of 131.
Macartney became the second man after Victor Trumper to hit a century before lunch and even that noblest of batsmen had seldom played in the manner Macartney did that day. And each thundering stroke piled on misery for Carr. Four years later they would be joined in their club at the same venue by a 21-year-old called Don Bradman.
“I think I spent the most dreadful luncheon interval in all my experience of cricket. Every blessed thing had gone wrong for me … to add to my miseries, PF Warner sat at the table a few places away with a face like nothing on earth.” Later on, for many a year, Carr would see Warner’s ‘face like nothing on earth’ in his nightmares. Carr never captained England again. In fact, he played just one more Test in his career.
Eventually, Macartney was caught by Hendren off George Macaulay for 151. The score by then was 235. He had batted for 172 minutes and hit 21 boundaries. When he left, the whole ground stood up and applauded, and most rousing a cheer it was with over 30,000 people assembled now that the news of his sparkling batting had spread across Leeds during the lunch interval. ‘He deserved every cheer, for his was one of the great innings in the history of the game.
In the following Test at Manchester, Macartney got another hundred. He retired at the end of the series, going out amidst a blaze of runs. Timeless class. His imperious style led to the nickname ‘Governor General’.
2131 runs in 35 Tests at 41.78. He was reputed to be one of the most attractive Australian batsmen ever. In his early days he was a slow useful bowler as well, especially on wet wickets.
One wonders what his numbers would have looked like if he had not lost his best years to the Great War.
Charlie Macartney was born on 27 June 1886.