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.

Choosing a Cue.

At the end of the year J. G. Sala, a Scotch player of considerable repute, appeared in London for the first time in an American Tournament. On his day he was a fine spot stroke player; indeed, his feat of making 186 consecutive screw back red hazards into the same pocket remained a record for years, when it was completely wiped out by Charles Memmott, who made 413 similar strokes in succession in a match in Australia. Sala was, however, by no means strong at the all-round game. In 1884 Roberts took a company consisting of Mitchell, Taylor, Shorter, North, Collins, White, Coles, and Sala for a provincial tour, and organised tournaments in Birmingham, Sheffield, Leeds, Liverpool, and Manchester, where some really magnificent play took place. Writing the names of these players reminds me that I have said nothing of Harry Coles and Fred White. The former originally came from Birmingham, and made no particular mark for some years after arriving in London, though he was always regarded as a sound and consistent player. Perhaps his form was never rated quite as highly as it deserved to be, for there was nothing in the least ‘flash’ about his style, and he never appeared to be playing nearly as well as he really was, in this respect being the exact opposite of Richards. The virtual abolition of the spot stroke, however, gave him his opportunity, and he improved very rapidly indeed, until about 1892, when I saw him make upwards of 500 off the balls, twice within a few days at the Aquarium, he was playing a really fine game, and only wanted a short start from players of the class of Peall and Dawson. Nearly twenty years ago White was regarded by some few people as a promising youngster, but for a long time his health was very indifferent, and never gave him a real chance of doing himself justice. When he became stronger he played brilliantly for a brief period, making spot stroke breaks of upwards of a thousand on two or three occasions in matches; but as he depended almost entirely on the spot stroke, and was very weak as an all-round player, little or nothing has been seen of him of recent years, though it is gratifying to know that he has done exceedingly well in pursuits unconnected with billiards.

It may be interesting to record that the first game of 10,000 up ever played was begun at the Aquarium on May 24, 1884. It was between Roberts and Peall, ‘all in,’ and the latter, who received a start of 2,000, won by 589 points. Once started these long games became very popular. They were soon extended to as many as 24,000 up, which took no less than a fortnight to play, and the spot stroke was invariably barred. I am not sure that the change was a judicious one, for it is by no means so interesting to witness a couple of hours’ play in the middle of a long match, with one of the players possibly hopelessly in the rear, as it is to see a game begun and finished at a single sitting. The last matches ever played for the championship took place in 1885, when Roberts defeated Cook and Joseph Bennett in turn, each game being 3,000 up. The champion at this time was suffering from an attack of rheumatic gout, which prevented him from touching a cue for a week prior to the match with Cook, and made it very difficult for him to hobble round the table; but he won by 92 points. Bennett suffered defeat by more than half the game. It is only fair to state that Bennett was so unwell that he could scarcely hit a ball on the first and second days, but the one-sided nature of the contest was in a great measure atoned for by the splendid exhibition given by Roberts. He made breaks of 155 and 147, the largest ever put together in a match for the championship; and also scored sixteen successive spot strokes, the largest consecutive number ever made in a championship match. A notable ‘all-in’ match of 15,000 up on even terms between Roberts and Mitchell was played in February 1886; Roberts, who certainly had the better of the luck, winning by 1,741 points. His longest breaks were 693 (230 spot strokes), 544 (179), 616 (88 and 104), 722 (230), and 716 (47 and 184). Mitchell’s highest efforts were 745 (244), 601 (197), 969 (321), and 532 (175). The result was particularly instructive, as it showed that, though Mitchell was at his very best just then, and in full practice at the spot, whereas Roberts had not played the stroke in public for months previously, the champion was still able to assert his supremacy at the all-in game. In the following week Roberts and Peall began a six days’ spot stroke match. The conditions were that they should play four hours per day, each man to place his ball where he chose at the beginning of a break, and the highest aggregate scorer at the end of the week to be the winner. Peall had matters all his own way from the outset, and eventually totalled 16,734 against Roberts’s 11,925; it was a terribly wearisome affair and attracted very few spectators. Later in the year Peall challenged Roberts to play 15,000 up, all in, on even terms, and as Roberts declined the offer then, and whenever it has been renewed, Peall, as already remarked, has certainly been entitled to claim the championship at English billiards ever since that date.

Since 1886 genuine matches for money have gone greatly out of fashion, and we have had to content ourselves with battles for more or less fictitious ‘purses,’ varied by an occasional tournament. The great feature of the past few years has been the wonderful play of Roberts, who, although he was born on August 15, 1847, has made greater improvement during the past few seasons than any of the younger players, and was never better than he is at present. Everyone who is interested in the game must have seen him play, and one visit to the Egyptian Hall will give a better idea of his inimitable skill than pages of description.

The young players who have come most prominently to the front since about 1888 are Hugh MʻNeil, Charles Dawson, Edward Diggle, H. W. Stevenson, and William Spiller. At one time MʻNeil, who is a left-handed player, was generally regarded as the ‘coming champion.’ He was the first to grasp something of the champion’s style, and certainly played the ‘top of the table game’ better than any of his contemporaries. Roberts had a very high opinion of him, and long ago said that he ‘would be a splendid player if he would only keep steady.’ A very severe illness unfortunately obliged the young Scotchman to give up playing for a long period. Dawson’s improvement was rapid, and well maintained for several seasons. His form is generally very consistent, and would be even more so if he were less sensitive when luck seems to be against him. Diggle is now generally regarded as one of the most promising of the younger men. He is by no means a pretty player, and does not appear to have the least idea of making a bridge, sometimes playing through his forefinger, sometimes between his first and second finger, and in various other extraordinary fashions; but, bridge or no bridge, he keeps on scoring. Stevenson is by far the youngest of the professional players, being still under age at the time of writing, and there are great possibilities before him, for he has a beautiful delicate touch, strongly resembling William Cook in that respect. It has been amply proved during the season of 1895–6 that Spiller only needed the requisite public practice to make him a fine player, and, though he performs in somewhat loose and haphazard style, he continually runs up long breaks. Nor must I forget Charles Memmott, a remarkably game and capable performer, and equally good at the all-in or spot-barred game. J. P. Mannock is a player who would have come into prominent notice long ago had he appeared more in public.

The game is just now in a somewhat curious state. It was never so popular in clubs, and where there was one house possessing a private table a dozen years ago, there are now twenty; but the public support of billiards is fitful. There is no doubt that exhibition matches have been terribly overdone during the last few seasons, and some genuine battles are sadly needed to revive the fading interest in the doings of professional players. It may, I think, be taken for granted that the push stroke—which has been abused to such an extent that a big cannon break is only put together by means of a number of glaring fouls—is doomed. Probably, indeed, the table of the near future will have smaller pockets with the spot a little nearer to the top of the table than it is at present. There will then be no occasion to bar any fair stroke, for such gigantic breaks from the spot stroke as have been made by Peall and Mitchell would be a sheer impossibility. The barring of any fair stroke makes the game a bastard one, and I feel certain that an alteration in the tables, such as I have indicated, would make billiards far more interesting to watch than it is at present, and would, therefore, prove of the greatest benefit to professional players.


The history of the development of the modern game of billiards is scarcely complete without reference to the games between Roberts and Frank Ives, the American champion, because the capabilities of the cannon game, even on a table with pockets, were so conclusively shown. Since then, cannons have played a conspicuous part in most long spot-barred breaks; and although cushion nurseries with the aid of the push stroke are so open to objection that some restriction is probable, yet it is certain that as pockets are made more difficult, cannons will become more important. Indeed, this would seem to lead ultimately to the adoption of the cannon game and the abandonment of pockets; a consummation to be regretted, for winning and losing hazards are attractive features in the English game.

In the summer of 1893 the champions met at Knightsbridge and played on a table with 3¼ in. pockets and with balls 2½ in. in diameter. At first Roberts had the advantage, but afterwards Ives cornered the balls, making 1,267 cannons in a break of 2,539, and 402 cannons in a break of 852, and won with ease. At the end the game stood, Ives, 6,000; Roberts, 3,821.

Neither player could be expected to show his best form under the circumstances, for compromise in the matter of tables and balls cannot be satisfactory; but the power and control possessed by Ives were a revelation to most of our experts. Putting the great break on one side, he was easily able to run up very long scores by means of a series of cannons played almost perfectly, without the push stroke or suspicion of a foul, and with but slight recourse to the massé.

During December 1895 Eugene Carter, another American player, has been giving exhibitions at the Argyll Hall, and those who are capable of judging cannot fail to have realised from his performances how important the cannon is likely to be in the English game of the immediate future.

To the various professionals who have been mentioned the names should be added of Green, the veteran Scotch player, who has often performed very well in London, and whose game is sound, if old-fashioned; and of Lloyd, who won the first prize at the Association Tournament held in December 1895, after a most determined struggle with Peall. The games during this tournament were played spot and push strokes barred.

More detailed notice of John Roberts and his remarkable breaks[4] would have been made here were he not so frequently alluded to in other parts of the book, for the history of the modern game is mainly the history of his career and that of his father. The elder revolutionised the game by the cultivation of the spot stroke, whilst the younger has advanced its interests by virtually abandoning that mode of play. Each of them for long was without a rival on even terms, and the respect entertained for the play of the younger Roberts is, we trust, evident by the references elsewhere to his opinions and practice.