Once Were Lions: The Players’ Stories: Inside the World’s Most Famous Rugby Team

There were also variations in the rules and refereeing standards and practices between north and south—another constant refrain that still bedevils rugby. In the early tours, the home sides made the adjustments to accommodate the tourists, who had developed forms of play which the other countries considered as breaches of the offside law. It was the Lions heeling from the scrummage that proved most controversial on the first tour, but the New Zealanders in particular soon became masters of this imported art.

The first tourists had expected that Australia would prove the tougher part of the tour, but in the end it was New Zealand, where immigrants and natives alike had taken to the sport with great gusto, that proved a far more difficult territory. Their provincial sides in particular learned quickly from the visitors, not least the marvellous passing game among the backs. This was a revelation to the New Zealand teams, which had concentrated on the ‘dribbling’ game involving gangs of players moving the ball forward with their feet or with the ball ‘up the jumper’.

Opinions vary as to how much the tourists imparted to their hosts—‘I challenge anyone to tell me what the 1888 side taught us’ wrote subsequent New Zealand captain T.R. Ellison, though one of his successors as captain, Dave Gallaher, wrote ‘the exhibitions of passing which they gave were most fascinating and impressive to the New Zealander, who was not slow to realise the advantages of these methods. One may safely say that, from that season, dates the era of high-class rugby in the colony.’

If Gallaher is to be believed, then the first tourists accomplished something wonderful for world rugby, as they played their part in helping to create the passion for good rugby which still permeates the sport in New Zealand. For their role in bringing about the players who became the All Blacks, those first tourists deserve our thanks, though not many of New Zealand’s humbled opponents over the years might agree.

A triumphal progress, then, but one tinged with tragedy. In August, the captain of the side, Bob Seddon of Lancashire, was out rowing on the Hunter River in New South Wales when his scull capsized and he was drowned. He was by all accounts a popular figure, and his loss was deeply felt both by the tourists and their hosts—a memorial was erected to him in the nearby town of Maitland. Some 120 years later, it is well maintained by local enthusiasts.

Seddon’s place as captain was taken by A.E. Stoddart, who went on to become the star of the tour with his all-round skills. As one of the triumvirate who had put together this first tour, Stoddart may well have made some money, but if so, he was not saying. When some of the tourists tired of their schedule, he also invited a friend from the cricket world to come and play for the Lions—which is how C. Aubrey Smith, the gentlemanly actor of Prisoner of Zenda fame, otherwise known as Sir Charles Aubrey Smith KBE, a future captain of England’s cricket side, became the only Hollywood star ever to turn out for the Lions.

After all the travel—it took six weeks to sail there and back—the tourists returned to some plaudits for their pioneering efforts but also a strict ruling by the RFU. Every player who came back to Britain was forced to swear an affidavit on their return stating that they had not been paid for playing on the tour. The RFU were satisfied though suspicious, and one player did not have to sign—Angus Stuart stayed on in New Zealand and played for its national side in 1893 before returning to Britain and taking up rugby league as a coach.

One final element of controversy emerged from that first tour, and the RFU at last found something to get really angry about. While in Victoria, the players took part in exhibition matches of football played under Victorian or what we now call Australian Rules. It was in these matches that C. Aubrey Smith made his appearances for the Lions, never having actually played rugby before. The surprising thing is how well the visitors managed, winning 6, drawing 1 and losing 11 of the 18 matches which undoubtedly lined the pockets of Shrewsbury and Shaw and may well have enriched some of the players. No one really knows what went on in the background, but as a touring entity, the side from Britain and Ireland was undoubtedly a profitable enterprise—for some.

The seeds had been sown by these first tourists, and the full flowering of the touring concept did not take long to emerge. In 1891, with the full approval of the RFU, a second tour was planned, this time to South Africa at the invitation of the Western Province Union, the South African Rugby Board being still in its infancy.

As before, it was a previous visit by an England cricket side which inspired the thought of a rugby tour, but in those days South Africa was probably bottom of the rugby heap. The matches were not expected to be close as South African rugby was so far behind that of Britain and Ireland. It was feared no one would want to see a mismatch, and Cecil Rhodes, one of the richest men in Africa and Prime Minister of the Cape Colony as well as an ardent imperialist, had to step in to underwrite the whole tour. The exercise thus became something of a missionary outing, with the tourists keen to show the colonials just how the game should be played, in the hope they would learn quickly and become stiffer opposition in years ahead. They certainly did that.

With official sanction, and former RFU Secretary Edwin ‘Daddy’ Ash as manager, this time most of the tourists were better exponents of the game than their predecessors. Drawn entirely from England and Scotland, there were 9 internationalists in the squad of 21 players, with the remainder all from big clubs and a sizeable contingent from Cambridge University’s then dazzling squad. Students could also usually afford to take a long break from their studies, and it is obvious from the fact that so few ‘northerners’ appeared in the squad that the bitter struggle over ‘broken time’ payments—compensation for lost wages—was already affecting the selection policies.

This tour introduced a new concept to world rugby—the international Test series. A team representing all of South Africa—though this technically was not an independent country in its own right—would play the Lions three times in the course of the tour, losing all three Test Matches.

Despite the fears of disparity between the teams, large numbers came out to support the home sides, with 6,000 reported to have attended the first Test. There was also great excitement about the tour across South Africa, with the considerable political differences between the various regions such as the Cape Colony and the Transvaal being set aside for the duration.

The statistics do not lie. The Lions went unbeaten through all 20 matches, notching 226 points for the loss of just 1, and that in the opening match against the Cape Town Club. It remains the most one-sided tour to date.

Captained by Bill Maclagan, who had played 26 times for Scotland, the visitors were just too big and strong, too skilful and experienced, for the willing but technically unsound South Africans. In only one match, on brick-hard ground in Kimberley against Griqualand West, did the visitors feel in any real danger, the Lions eventually winning 3–0, though Stellenbosch in the final match actually held the visitors to just 2–0.

A bigger problem for the tourists was the many days of backbreaking travel in horse-drawn vehicles between the various venues, as well as the generous hospitality of their hosts. Centre Paul Clauss described the tour as ‘champagne and travel’, and some fans would say that this succinct description of Lions tours has never been bettered.

Without a doubt, the tour transformed South African rugby, not least because of a gift made by a shipping magnate. The party had travelled on the Dunottar Castle of the Union Castle Line, and its owner donated a magnificent trophy to be presented to the province that performed best against the Lions. The tourists selected Griqualand West, who became the first proud owners of the cup competed for by the South African provinces to this day and named after the man who donated it, Sir Donald Currie.

More importantly, the South African rugby players took to heart all the lessons they had learned from the 1891 Lions. One of the Lions, the Rev. H. Marshall, wrote that the tourists had ‘initiated the colonists of South Africa into the fine points and science of the rugby game’. Maclagan and his men did their missionary work all too well, as subsequent touring parties would find to their cost.

The third tour was again to South Africa, which could be reached in 16 to 17 days by boat rather than the 6 weeks it took to sail to Australia or New Zealand. Well organized and funded by the various provincial unions across South Africa, the 1896 tour was memorable for several reasons—it featured a sizeable contingent from Ireland for the first time, it included the first defeat of the Lions in an international Test, and the whole exercise officially made a profit, showing that the Lions were by now welcome visitors wherever they went.

The touring party featured players only from English and Irish clubs and was missing those players from the northern English clubs who had ‘defected’ to rugby league on its formation in 1895. The choice of players for touring also reflected the massive infighting that had split the RFU from the SFU—the name Scottish Rugby Union was not adopted until 1924—and the Welsh Union over issues related to professionalism.

The squad was captained by Johnny Hammond of Blackheath and Cambridge University, who at 36 was the oldest Lions captain to date. Irish vice-captain Tom Crean, already an internationalist with nine caps, actually led the side on more occasions, age presumably having withered Hammond. Though we will learn more about his heroic nature, Crean, it should be said, must not be confused with his contemporary fellow Irishman of the same name, who accompanied both Scott of the Antarctic and Ernest Shackleton on their Polar expeditions. One of the Lions tourists, Cuthbert Mullins of Oxford University, was actually a native of South Africa, and he later went back home to practise as a doctor.

It is perhaps an insight into the inclusive nature of the Lions as representing all of Britain and Ireland that, on arrival in South Africa, the three Roman Catholics in the party—Crean, and Louis and Eddie Magee—wanted to attend Sunday mass rather than take part in an excursion. The management decreed that all religious people would be able to attend their various churches that morning and the excursion would start later. The Lions, it seemed, happily answered to a Higher Power.

That Power looked kindly on them. The Lions went undefeated through the tour until the final game. They had beaten South Africa in three Tests, and won against every provincial side except one, Western Province, which gained a 0–0 draw. They had scored 320 points for the loss of 45, yet such apparently one-sided statistics hid the fact that South African rugby had vastly improved.

In their final match in Cape Town, the Lions found out just how much the sport had moved on in South Africa. Wearing their famous green jerseys for the first time, South Africa were led by Barrie Heatlie, who rejoiced in the nickname ‘Fairy’—it is not known why. His side had developed their forward play to such an extent that the Lions buckled, and when the referee, Alf Richards, who just happened to be a former South African internationalist, ruled against the Lions’ favourite tactic of wheeling the scrummage, things began to look bad for the visitors.

South Africa then gained a controversial try, not least because the scorer, Alf Larard, had been reinstated as an amateur on immigrating to the country from England where he had been involved in the row over ‘broken time’ payments which had led to the establishment of rugby league the previous year. Also, by a strict interpretation of the rules, the ball had been won from an offside position before being passed to Larard for his try, which was converted.

The visitors mounted a late rally, but could not score. South Africa had beaten the Lions 5–0, and the victory caused a sensation across that country. The row over the debatable score rumbled on for days, and some would say has never stopped, as the northern hemisphere and southern hemisphere nations still disagree over the laws of the game and their interpretations.

We are indebted to Walter Carey, one of the tour party, for an insider’s account of the 1896 tour. He would eventually make his home in South Africa as Bishop of Bloemfontein and is most famous for coining the motto of the Barbarians: ‘Rugby is a game for gentleman in any class, but no bad sportsman in any class.’

Carey wrote that the tour had been ‘very happy’ and praised the ‘scrupulously fair’ play of the host teams. He added: ‘I hope and pray that South African teams will always play like gentlemen.’ His missionary zeal is perhaps understandable, given that he did become a clergyman.

Carey also described the tour’s star player Tom Crean in glowing terms as ‘the most Irish, the most inconsequent, the most gallant, the most lovable personality one could ever imagine and made the centre of the whole tour’. Over the years the Lions have featured many such personalities, and a goodly number of them have been Irish.

Sadly, within a few years of that happy tour in 1896, South Africa was torn apart by the Boer War. It seems almost incredible that so soon after their tour as Lions, several of the 1896 touring party were back as combatants. Two of them, Tom Crean and Robert Johnston, both won the Victoria Cross for acts of gallantry in that conflict—it was not just on the rugby battlefield that Lions were heroic.

Crean in particular appears to have been practically born heroic. Blessed with good looks and a magnificent physique, Crean was what the Irish call a ‘broth of a boy’, who loved nothing better than good wine, good company of both sexes and plenty of singing. In short, an ideal Lions tourist. From Dublin, he had just qualified as a doctor in 1896 and he had already been decorated for heroism. At the age of 18, he received a Royal Humane Society award for saving the life of a 20-year-old student who had got into difficulties in the sea off Blackrock in Co. Dublin. He enjoyed South Africa so much he stayed on in Johannesburg and, in 1899, joined up as an ordinary trooper, seeing action at the Relief of Mafeking and being wounded in battle.

Serving as a surgeon captain in 1901, Crean won his VC for continuing to attend to the wounded under fire. Presented with the medal in 1902 by King Edward VII, his citation read:

Thomas Joseph Crean, Surgeon Captain, 1st Imperial Light Horse. During the action with De Wet at Tygerskloof on the 18th December 1901, this officer continued to attend to the wounded in the firing line under a heavy fire at only 150 yards range, after he himself had been wounded, and only desisted when he was hit a second time, and as it was first thought, mortally wounded.

As if that wasn’t enough, Crean went on to win the Distinguished Service Order and commanded the 44th Field Ambulance brigade which served in the trenches in the First World War. He was again wounded several times.

Sadly, his health failed as a result of his wartime injuries, and he began to drink heavily and developed diabetes. His private practice in London failed, and he was declared bankrupt shortly before his death in 1923, aged just 49. You will read in this book of how life after the Lions has often been an anti-climax for individual players, but that could not be said of war hero Crean.

It was said at one time that the two most famous men in South Africa were Cecil Rhodes and Tom Crean. Crean’s heroism as a player and in combat were not forgotten—in the third of their special Boer War centenary commemorative stamps issued by the South African Post Office in 2001, he was one of two people honoured with their own stamp.

Amazingly, the other Lion to win a VC, Robert Johnston, was a member of the same club as Crean, Wanderers. Born in Donegal, Johnston celebrated his 24th birthday on the Lions tour and he and Crean became fast friends. Indeed, they joined the Imperial Light Horse together, and served through various battles including Elandslaagte. It was there that Johnston won his VC. The citation read that at a critical moment when the advance was checked, Johnston ‘moved forward under heavy fire at point blank range to enable a decisive flanking movement to be carried out’.

After initial treatment to his wounds, Johnston was transferred to a field hospital where the doctor who treated him was none other than Tom Crean. His friend’s treatment proved successful, as Johnston made a full recovery and after serving as a prisoner of war camp commandant, he lived until 1950.

The unexpectedly long duration of the Boer War did not prevent a fourth tour taking place, though in 1899 the venue was Australia rather than South Africa. The squad was captained and managed by the Rev. Matthew Mullineux who had toured in 1896 and was then a member at Blackheath.

Reverend Mullineux was perhaps not the best player around, never receiving an England cap, but he was at least a modest realist. In the first Test against Australia in Sydney, he could not perform to the same level as those around him, and having seen his team soundly beaten by 13–3, Mullineux promptly dropped himself. England international Frank Stout took over as on-field captain for the remaining three Tests, all of which were won by the Lions to give them the first Test series victory in Australia.

The touring party featured representatives from all four home nations, but the star of the side was the sole Welsh international, Gwyn Nicholls of Cardiff, who brought a new dynamism to the position of centre. He ended the tour as top try scorer, with C.Y. Adamson of Durham gaining the most points thanks to his prodigious kicking. On a tour where the Lions won 18 of their 21 matches, scoring 333 points for the loss of 90, Adamson amassed 135 points by himself, a tour record that would stand for many years.

It might seem incredible to modern sensitivities, but just a year after the cessation of hostilities in the Boer War, a Lions squad toured South Africa. The war may have split South Africa asunder, but it wasn’t going to get in the way of the national passion for rugby. And just as the spectacular victory of South Africa in the 1995 World Cup did much to heal wounds in the post-apartheid era, so did the 1903 tour help the normalization process after the Boer War. It also helped that, for the first time, a host country defeated the Lions in a Test series.

Captained by Mark Morrison of Scotland, the 1903 Lions featured internationalists from Scotland, Ireland and Wales, but none from England. Led by Morrison, the forwards gave a good account of themselves, though South Africa’s scrummaging power was beginning to become a mighty weapon. In the backs, however, only Reg Skrimshire of Wales could match the South Africans, whose passing and kicking skills had vastly improved even in the short space of four years.

In the first Test in Johannesburg, South Africa were captained by Alex Frew, who had played alongside Morrison for Scotland in their Triple Crown-winning year of 1901. The Lions had suffered several reverses and injuries in the provincial matches before that first Test, and would go on to win just 11 of their 22 matches on tour. Both the first and second Tests were draws, which set the scene for a tense closing encounter in Cape Town.

Digging out the green jerseys which they had worn in their first victory over the Lions back in 1899, the South Africans were well prepared, but became nervous when a downpour turned the pitch into a quagmire—conditions which were thought to favour the players of Britain and Ireland. Thousands of spectators watched from beneath umbrellas as South Africa persevered with their game plan, which involved their much better backs. Though the Lions had a try disallowed and there was yet more controversy over the winning try by South Africa, which came off a suspiciously forward pass, at the end most people agreed that the home side had thoroughly deserved their 8–0 victory.

The green jerseys were there to stay on South African torsos and the Lions had suffered their first-ever series loss. It was not to be the last, but at least they had a swift opportunity to wipe the slate clean as the very next year saw a tour to Australia and New Zealand. The 1904 squad was again captained by a Scot, the remarkable David ‘Darkie’ Bedell-Sivright, a veteran of the 1903 tour and the only man from that squad to play again for the Lions the following year.

Bedell-Sivright was a swarthy individual, a fearsome forward, and a real character on and off the field—he was alleged to have rugby tackled a cart horse. He once stated: ‘When I go on to the rugby field I only see the ball, and should someone be in the road, that is his lookout.’ He was very popular with the Australians and he loved them and their country, staying on for a year after the tour before returning home to study medicine. He was not enamoured of Australian referees, however. In the match against Northern Districts, Denys Dobson of Oxford University was sent off by the local referee, one Hugh Dolan. His offence was to say ‘What the devil was that for?’—a near-blasphemy to Mr Dolan who ushered Dobson from the field, thus making him the first Lion ever to be sent off.

Bedell-Sivright intervened on behalf of his team member and the Lions left the field, returning after 20 minutes without Dobson but ready to thump the home side, which they did 17–3. In interviews after the match, the Lions captain explained his stance to reporters: ‘He [Bedell-Sivright] regarded Mr Dolan as an incompetent referee. The team had borne with his incapacity so long as it merely affected them in their play, but when he chose to take up a position which reflected on their personal honour, they thought it time to show their resentment.’

An inquiry was held by the New South Wales Rugby Union and no action was taken against Dobson for his ‘improper expression’. It was a whitewash by officialdom—and not the last time this would happen with the Lions.

Bedell-Sivright’s side featured internationalists from all four home countries as well as two New Zealanders, medical students Pat McEvedy and Arthur O’Brien. Paddy Bush of Cardiff, a brilliant fly-half, marshalled the outstanding Welsh backs of the time. The Lions duly swept all before them in Australia, winning every one of their 14 matches, including the 3 Tests by a combined score of 50–3.

It was a different story entirely in New Zealand, where the Lions cause was not helped by Bedell-Sivright breaking his leg in the first match at Canterbury. The low point of the tour was the only Test against New Zealand, in which the Lions suffered their first defeat by the nation who would come to haunt them in the decades ahead. It was a case of dominant home forwards beating inventive Lions backs, which would also be a regular occurrence in the history of the tourists. Captain Bedell-Sivright remarked patronizingly that the colonials would not dare to come to Britain: ‘you might succeed occasionally against local underdog teams…but would be out of your class against national combinations,’ he is reported to have said.

How wrong could he have been. In retrospect, that 9–3 victory was the beginning of the rise of New Zealand rugby which would reach full glory the following year with the 1905 tour to the ‘old countries’ and the start of the All Blacks legend.

Both the principals in that notorious sending off, Dobson and Bedell-Sivright, would meet strange ends. The former was killed by a charging rhinoceros in Africa in 1916, while Bedell-Sivright died from an infected insect bite during the Dardanelles campaign in the Great War.

After tours in successive years, the next Lions did not leave home shores again until 1908, when Arthur F. ‘Boxer’ Harding, a 1904 tourist, captained the squad on its visit to Australia and New Zealand. In one way this was the least representative squad to tour in the 20th century, as only players from England and Wales featured. Scotland had fallen out with the RFU over the issue of New Zealand paying three shillings a day in expenses to its players on their 1905 tour to Europe.