In that 1924 party, Dan Drysdale, Doug Davies, Robert Howie, Arthur Blakiston, and Cove-Smith himself were the only other ever-presents in the four Tests. The first three would all play a vital part in Scotland’s 1925 Grand Slam, and Drysdale would later become president of the SRU, while Blakiston succeeded his baronet father and became Sir Arthur.
There was also no reliable goal kicker, and Scotland’s full-back Drys-dale had a miserable time missing what would now be considered certainties. In his defence, he had to play on while injured, the ball was much heavier in those days, and its flight high on the Veldt has baffled many more kickers than Drysdale. A forward, Tom Voyce of Gloucester and England, took over the kicking duties and fared little better. Voyce, who would become president of the RFU in later life, also had to play out of position in the backs, this happening several times as the Lions numbers were depleted. Willie Cunningham, an Irish international who had moved to live in Johannesburg, was called up as a replacement from ‘civilian’ life—as would happen to the accidental tourist, Andy Nicol, in Australia in 2001.
At one point in the match against the Border side in East London, the Lions were so desperate to make up numbers that a spectator called McTavish was pressed into action. Nothing more was known about him, and no more was ever heard about him, but there remains the intriguing possibility that out there somewhere are the descendants of an unacknowledged Lion.
Dr Cove-Smith admitted that the injuries had all but overwhelmed his squad. Later he wrote: ‘Looking back, one cannot help but laugh at the subterfuges to which we were forced to resort to place 15 fit men on the field, and I have marvelled many times in retrospect that the fellows were able to put up such a good show in spite of all the handicaps.’
The Lions were also caught out by what some considered a piece of trickery by the Springboks. In order to combat the dynamic wing forward play of the Lions, South Africa’s Test side lined up with a scrummage in a 3–4–1 formation, the wing forwards binding their support to props rather than the second row, as opposed to the traditional 3–2–3 system. The Lions refused to adopt the advantageous new formation and duly paid the price as the South African defence became even more formidable.
Forget these excuses, however. The fact is that the 1924 Lions were just not as good as their hosts, as the four Tests showed. The first Test at Durban saw the debut in the green jersey of the legendary fly-half Bennie Osler, one of the greatest of all Springboks. A prodigious kicker, Osler’s clearances from defence and his probing kicks in attack rendered many of the Lions strategies redundant. His drop goal was the difference between the two sides in that first Test, won 7–3 by the Springboks. ‘He kicked more than was warranted,’ was Cove-Smith’s later comment.
The second Test at Johannesburg was played in front of a crowd estimated at 25,000, of whom a large number had forced their way in after being locked out when the ground reached its supposed capacity of 15,000—there was no longer any doubt about the popularity of matches against the Lions. It was no tense affair, however, South Africa recording their biggest ever win by 17–0.
Having lost so heavily to the Springboks and having failed to beat no fewer than eight provincial sides, the Lions at least salvaged a draw in the third Test in Port Elizabeth. The series was lost, and insult was added to injury when the Springboks snatched victory with a late try in the final Test in Cape Town.
The humiliation was complete, and the knives were out for the tourists back home—in the polite terms of the day, it was suggested by various complainers that the host unions’ generous hospitality had helped the Lions rugby to reach a nadir. In other words, far too much drink had been taken.
W. Rowe Harding, the Welsh winger, later gave vent to his feelings about the tour and the Lions in general in his controversial book of 1929, Rugby Reminiscences and Opinions. ‘Many unkind things were said about our wining and dining, but that was not the explanation of our failures,’ he wrote, going on to blame instead the injuries, the long train journeys between venues and the hard grounds. But he then struck a more honest note.
It is not difficult to analyse the reason for our failure. Dissipation has nothing to do with it…the real reason for our failure was that we were not good enough to go abroad as the representatives of the playing strength of these islands.
It is not sufficient to send abroad some players who are of international standard and some who are second class. Every member of the team must be absolutely first class, or disaster is bound to overtake it.
Harding then slammed the home unions for not taking the tour or indeed the southern hemisphere nations seriously enough: ‘There has always been too much condescension by the British rugby authorities about our attitudes both to our continental neighbours and the colonies.’
Having retired from rugby the previous year to pursue his career in law, Harding was free to castigate his targets in officialdom. It did his legal career no harm—he later became a judge—but the frosty atmosphere when he encountered the ‘blazers’ of the committee rooms can only be imagined. Harding, whose great-nephews Sam and Tom played top-class rugby in their native New Zealand and in England, was a man ahead of his time, and the next tour in 1930, a year after his words were published, would prove him all too correct.
One footnote from that tour emerged in 2005, when a blue 1924 Lions jersey came up for auction, apparently the one exchanged with Alf Walker of the Springboks after the final Test Match. It was said to be in the same condition as it had been at the end of the match, though presumably it had been washed. The collar of the jersey was torn off—proof that the Springboks have never given any quarter.
At the time that the 1930 tour was agreed, the finest side of that international era was Scotland, with rugby in the Borders enjoying a purple patch. The Four Home Unions Committee, which was responsible for selecting the touring party, apparently contacted 100 players about their availability for the trip Down Under, and a fair number of invitees were Scottish. But it was a sign of the uncertain economic times that only one Scot, Willie Welsh of Hawick and Scotland, felt able to travel. The Committee’s first choice as captain, England’s Wavell Wakefield, was unable to tour, as was their second choice, Dr George Stephenson, then the most-capped player in the world, whose record of 14 tries for Ireland in home matches stood until a certain Brian O’Driscoll came along. Doug Prentice of Leicester and England eventually took up the captaincy, and clearly did a competent job of administration, as some years afterwards he became secretary of the RFU. He was not so successful as a player, and omitted himself from three Test teams.
The tour party still managed to comprise 29 players, of whom 11 were or would become England internationalists, with 6 Welsh caps, 5 Irish, plus Willie Welsh of Scotland. The star player was Welsh flanker Ivor Jones, who was nominated as ‘The King’ by the New Zealand press and public before Barry John was even born. Later president of the Welsh rugby union, Jones struck up a lifelong friendship with legendary opponent George Nepia.
Another Welshman who impressed his hosts was Jack Morley, who would return Down Under as a professional with the Great Britain rugby league tourists in 1936. Fly-half Roger Spong usually formed a great partnership for England with scrum-half Wilf Sobey, but the latter was badly injured in the first match of the tour and missed the remaining matches in which Spong nevertheless excelled.
Yet another of the touring internationalists was Carl D. Aarvold of Cambridge University and England, who later in life would be knighted and face opposition even tougher than the All Blacks—as Recorder of London he sat in judgement on the notorious gangster twins, the Krays. Other members of the party included Ireland’s George Beamish, a Royal Air Force pilot who later became Air Marshal Sir George Beamish, KBE, CBE, and Brian Black, who also became an RAF pilot and was killed in action in 1940.
Alongside Aarvold at centre for all four Tests in the New Zealand leg of the tour was the then 23-year-old