Passing on to 1898, I come to the third— and this is not many, considering the length of his career—mistake made by John Roberts, jun. At that time the three-inch pocket table was practically dead, and W. J. Peall had made so many phenomenal breaks by means of the spot stroke that no one was much surprised when he challenged Roberts, or any other man in the world, to play, on even terms, for a big stake. This challenge was repeated several times, but Roberts, very judiciously, was not to be drawn into accepting it. In commenting upon this in the columns of The Sportsman, I wrote that, in these circumstances, Peall, and not Roberts, was undoubtedly champion. The result of this was that Roberts brought an action for libel against The Sportsman, and claimed £1,000 damages. This paper was then the property of Messrs. C. H. Ashley and Sidney Smith, both of whom, I regret to say, are now dead. I never quite hit it off with the former, but he was an eminently fair man, and, in talking over the matter with me, though he was naturally annoyed at being saddled with the trouble and expense of an action of this sort, he was good enough to say, "You are perfectly right, and I'm glad you wrote as you did."
The "law's delay" is proverbial, and the action in the High Courts did not come off until nearly the end of April. As was almost certain to happen, the date was a very inconvenient one for me, and I had to leave Newmarket and miss seeing Tod Sloan win the One Thousand Guineas on the late Lord William Beresford's Sebola. I cannot remember who presided at the trial, but he evidently knew more about billiards than the great majority of judges do—or at any rate profess to do. One remark of his was much appreciated by our side. "You may be the best player in the world, Mr. Roberts, but that does not entitle you to make your own rules. You must obey the governing body of the game." These are words of wisdom which some of our present day players would do well to bear in mind. We were fortunate, indeed, in our leading counsel, who was Mr.—now Sir Henry—Duke.
I remember being much impressed by his magnificent voice and perfect elocution, and, instead of bullying a hostile witness, which always seems to me to be a very crude procedure, he would lure him on to destruction in the gentlest manner. The late Tom Taylor was the witness upon whom Roberts chiefly relied.
He was a little nervous in the box at first, but, after about ten minutes of apparently desultory conversation with Mr. Duke, he was quite at his ease. Then, in his most dulcet tones, Mr. Duke said, "Surely, Mr. Taylor, you cannot think that such a great player, as we all know Mr. Roberts to be, could be damaged by a statement in The Sportsman that he is not champion?" Poor Taylor fell headlong into the trap. "Oh clear no, it couldn't do him any harm; in fact it would rather do him good as an advertisement." Upon this, the foreman of the jury said that they had heard quite enough, and returned a verdict for the defendant. Then it seemed to dawn upon Taylor that he had not altogether distinguished himself, and he left the court hurriedly. Roberts was speedily in hot pursuit, but I hope that Taylor managed to keep our of the way for a day or two.