The death of 29-year old Fred Grace

September 22, 1880. A mere two weeks had gone past since England had won at The Oval — the first Test on English soil. Among the fifteen debutants were the three Grace brothers, EM, WG, and GF (Fred). It was all going well before The Grim Reaper cast a pall on the first family of English cricket, claiming the youngest of the brethren. Abhishek Mukherjee looks back at a day that shocked the English cricket fraternity.

The first Test on English soil was hastily arranged, but it was a success. All three Grace brothers took field, WG becoming the first Englishman to score a hundred on Test debut with 152. Australia followed-on, and amidst great tension Billy Murdoch went past WG’s score by a solitary run.

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Chasing 57, England became 31 for 5 before Frank Penn and WG, now batting at No. 7, saw England to safety. He had also taken 3 for 68 in the Test.

EM, opening with WG in the first innings, had scored 36. The brothers had put on 91. Batting at 6 in the second innings he scored a duck in his second outing.

Fred, the youngest, was not so fortunate, scoring two 2-ball ducks, but he had his moment, perhaps the most dramatic of the Test. George Bonnor, the man with the most impressive beard in Australia and one of the strongest of all men to have graced the sport, hit a ball high in the air, though sources differ on the direction. By the time Fred took a clean catch the batsmen were attempting a third run.

Barclay’s Book of Cricket, published six years later, described it as “the most famous deep field catch in history.”

Nevertheless, he had his best days ahead of him. Fred Grace was no WG, but he was a phenomenal performer for Gloucestershire along with WG’s Gentlemen of the South team. As EM approached his forties his appearances becoming sparser, more so because it clashed with his profession.

Along with WG and their cousin Walter Gilbert, Fred Grace was the fulcrum of both teams. Fred was no ordinary cricketer. Wisden wrote that he was “a brilliant field, a splendid batsman, at times a very successful bowler, and one of the most genial and popular men that ever appeared on a cricket field.”

Fred was no WG, but his First-Class numbers (6,906 runs at 25, 329 wickets at 20) were impressive. He was also probably the best fielder among the brothers. What was more, that warm, welcoming nature often made him the darling of the team.
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The Doctor and the wannabe

The camaraderie between the brothers was well-known. Robert Low recollected how WG and Fred were “constantly together”. They hunted small birds and hares under the guidance (if that is the word for it) of their uncle Alfred Pocock.

When they all played cricket in the garden, they were all allotted fifteen minutes of batting — all but Gilbert (WG) and Fred, who were allowed only five each.

Fred went to Australia with WG’s team in 1873-74. There was no love lost between the hosts and the tourists in what turned out to be a tour marred by poor planning and flying temper.

Things reached a low in the match against Victoria XVIII, when Fred claimed (wrongly) that he had stopped a ball when it had actually ricocheted off the fence. The crowd protested, and WG erupted, despite being in a position from where he could not have seen the ball.

Umpire Henry Budd had meanwhile signalled four. WG was fielding so far away from Fred that it was impossible for him to spot what Fred had done. Nevertheless, he was furious at Budd not taking Fred’s word, and dished out a verbal barrage so colourful that Budd refused to continue.

The match petered out to a draw, and WG received a lot of flak from the local press. Fred was not amused. During a dinner at Criterion Hotel, he lashed out at the Australian media: “There were no judges of cricket who wrote about it here … those who did not know the game should not attempt to describe it.”

Things got murkier, but it was probably an example of how well the brothers gelled. There are numerous other stories involving Henry, Alfred, EM, and WG, but they are not a part of this piece.

Six months before the previous incident, United South of England XI, featuring both WG and Fred, had travelled to Northampton. WG opened and batted till lunch till the skies opened, and The Doctor left the ground to participate in a shooting gallery just outside the Racecourse Ground.

The rain soon reduced to a drizzle, and was on the verge of drying up when WG was still outside. A local builder cornered him: “Why don’t you go and play cricket, keeping the crowd waiting like you are doing?”

It could have stopped there, but the man punched The Doctor. He was wearing a ring, and WG was left with a gash.

The great man did something extremely uncharacteristic. In the words of Simon Rae, “while not exactly offering the other cheek, Grace disentangled himself without retaliating.”

The sight of his bloodied face infuriated the usually smiling Fred. He asked big brother, who replied (somewhat meekly, by his standards), “that big cad over there against the entrance.”

Once he spotted the villain, Fred was furious: “If you don’t go and give him a good hiding, I shall.” So our builder returned with two black eyes.

Being a mere two-and-a-half years younger to WG, Fred almost grew up with him. It was Fred who suggested the grounded, strong, efficient Agnes Nicholls Day as bride for WG instead of the fragile Victorian belle.

Different from the lot

As mentioned, Fred did not come across as gruff as his elder brothers. While WG retained a certain boyishness even in his fifties, he was always The Doctor, a colossus towering above others.

Fred was different. When Henry and Alfred got married and settled down, EM was a superstar and WG a young talent, Fred was left with the women of the household. Unlike his elder brothers, who spent their entire adolescence days in male-dominated atmospheres, Fred was, thus, softer, by nature.

There were other ‘qualities’ as well. On the 1973-74 tour the tourists played two matches in Tasmania, one at Launceston, one at Hobart. Fred came back to mainland for the next match against Victoria (mentioned above), but went back to Tasmania, missing the last two matches.

Anthony Meredith wrote observed that both matches in Tasmania were “followed by dinner-dances of some opulence.” They were enough to tempt Fred back. EM married four times, but it is a fair guess that he did not actually bowl maidens over.

When WG set a new First-Class record by scoring 344 against Kent in 1876, Fred was there, taking a catch in the grandstand, “much to the delight of the ladies gathered there.”

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In his early twenties, Fred, with his good looks, was found “chatting up a cluster of love-struck admirers and their uneasy chaperones, amused at the tremors aroused in local hearts” (Meredith).

As several accounts suggest, Fred was the best-looking of the brothers, and his charm meant that he received more than his share on the Tasmanian tour.

Rae acquired a diary of Nora Peache, neighbour of the Graces and daughter of the local vicar. While she did not think of the Graces highly, her feelings were somewhat different from what she reserved for the other brothers. The recollections are vivid at times, but it should suffice to mention here that Nora had a crush on Fred, and perceived him as “a sensitive romantic surrounded by hearty vulgarians.”

In short, Fred was different. He was a handsome and polite man, much in contrast with the (perceived, at least) demeanour of his more illustrious brothers.

Those last days

But let us get back to the Test at The Oval, the first on English soil. Fred had caught a cold, but that did not stop him from travelling to Gloucestershire immediately, for there was a match the morning after at Stroud against the local XXII.

Grace scored 9 in a total of 143, but took 6 wickets as the locals were skittled out for 79. Time ran out as the tourists finished their second innings on 133, Fred top-scoring with 44.

The match got over on September 11. Though he played with gusto, it was evident that Fred was under the weather. He returned home, to Downend, for two days of rest before leaving for Basingstoke: there was a benefit match to be played at Winchester on September 15.

But the weather was rough, and Fred did not seem to improve. Dr Charles Webb, medical officer of Basingstoke and a friend of the Graces, convinced Fred to opt out of the match. The young man stayed put at Red Lion Hotel.

The 15th went by, as did the 16th. While Fred was not deteriorating, there was no sign of improvement either. Dr Webbe had a closer inspection on the 17th. The right lung had been affected. Fred had pneumonia.

It was serious, but it could have been worse. Nevertheless, Dr Webbe immediately wrote to Martha, matriarch of the family, and Gilbert, at Downend. Another message went out to Henry, eldest of the five brothers, at Kingswood.

Gilbert and Henry reached on the 18th. While Gilbert stayed back to nurse Fred, Henry, convinced that it was nothing serious, returned to Bristol that night. EM and WG were kept informed, but they, too, were assured that Fred was out of danger.

On the 19th Gilbert wired the brothers, mentioning that Fred “was going on very well”. It was a Sunday.

Henry still paid Fred a visit on the 20th. Though he had certainly deteriorated, there was no immediate reason for worry.

Another telegram from Gilbert, on the 21st, confirmed that all was well. That was the message WG, busy with a club match for Bedminster, received along with others in the family.

Of course there was no reason to be anxious. Henry was paying regular visits. Gilbert was there, as was Dr Webbe. Fred was in good hands.

Things started to go downhill at about four that night. Rae mentioned that “Fred’s condition became alarming” (Rae). Emergency telegrams went out to all corners.

Henry was at Bradford-on-Avon, away from Kingswood, but got the message nevertheless. Blanche (the seventh of nine siblings, a year older to WG) and her husband Reverend John Dann rushed from Downend. EM and WG reached Bradford-on-Avon to catch the connecting train.

None of them made it to the Red Lion by 1.15 in the afternoon, when Fred breathed his last in front of Gilbert, Dr Webbe, and the hotel landlord Sam Andrews.

In fourteen decades, no cricketer has died two weeks after his last international match.

EM and WG, The Coroner and The Doctor, received the message at the Bradford-on-Avon Station. Fred had intended to become a doctor the following year.

When EM and WG had last seen their youngest sibling, he was fresh from the finest catch in recent memory. He was fit, as fit as anyone had seen him, being cheered on by the crowd at The Oval. Now they saw him cold, pale, soulless in a hotel room, miles from home.

They had been too late.

The damp-bed controversy

In WG’s 1981 biography, Eric Midwinter mentioned a contemporary rumour that Fred’s death was caused “after sleeping in a damp hotel bed,” referring to the Red Lion.

In response, Gilbert wrote to The Telegraph: “He had a bad cold before he left home, and on my arrival at Basingstoke he told me that he had received another chill whilst waiting at Reading Station. By inserting this you will greatly oblige me, and also do justice to the members of a family whose attention and kindness to my cousin all through his illness could not have been surpassed had he been at home.”

Tributes

Tributes poured in from every corner. The Times published a touching obituary, mentioning that “his manly and straightforward conduct and genial manners won him only popularity, but the esteem of hosts of friends.”

Even Wisden overcame their characteristic economy of words, referring Fred’s death to “the very sad loss the county, and indeed the whole cricketing world, sustained by the death of Mr G. F. Grace … His early decease will be deplored, and his memory cherished by all those who were acquainted with him, and it will be very difficult to fill the void his death has created.”

Lillywhite’s Companion mentioned that the death “cast a deep gloom over the close of the season.”

The Sportsman wrote: “Right up to the day of his death, he upheld his reputation as a thoroughly representative cricketer. His fast round-arm bowling was the terror of his opponents, and the style in which he defied fatigue was little short of a marvel.”

Likewise, The County Gentleman’s Notes: “It is not too much to say that the lamented young gentleman was all but idolised in the county of his birth, and amongst all the classes, not only in England, but in our most distant colonies, was a universal favourite.”

The Australians took field in their last tour match five days after Fred’s demise against The Players at Crystal Palace. Both sides donned “a bow or band of black crape.”

The pall-bearers were followed by about three thousand people. Not all of them were cricketers. Most of them had to stand outside Christ Church Vicarage, where Rev. Dann broke down during his speech.

But of all, the news hit WG the hardest, for Fred was the one he grew up with. Of all his four brothers Fred was his closest. However, in the restrained style that was so typical of WG, his recollection in Reminiscences read: “The premature death of a young man in the pride of his strength and the prime of his life came as a shock to all his countless friends. I need scarcely enlarge on the brilliance of his career. He was one of the finest all-round cricketers I have ever seen, and a first-rate sportsman in every sense. As a batsman he was an invaluable run-getter; as a bowler he always rendered his side timely assistance; while as a fieldsman he was unsurpassed. He loved the game, and threw himself heart and soul into his play, whether it was batting, bowling, or fielding.

He might as well have been writing of someone else.

The bizarre aftermath

Fred was supposed to marry one Annie Louise Robinson. The Robinsons, albeit no match for the Graces in talent, were not short on enthusiasm. They often fielded a Robinsons XI.

Annie later became EM’s second wife.

(Abhishek Mukherjee is the Chief Editor at CricketCountry and CricLife. He blogs here and can be followed on Twitter here.)