Wales & New Zealand: Feathers & Ferns, Part One
Today we dive into the archives, looking at Wales vs The All Blacks in 1905 - the birth of one of rugby's special relationships.
Wales and New Zealand are two countries on opposite ends of the Earth, with little similarities save for a comparable geography and a close population size. On the face of it, there is little that binds the two together.
Yet Wales and New Zealand have become one of rugby’s most remarkable relationships since their first meeting in 1901. The Red and Black. Feathers and Ferns. These two countries a world apart were brought together by a mutual passion for rugby.
In the first decade of the 20th Century Wales became British rugby’s dominant force, owing much of their battling qualities to the miners that populated South Wales. The elitism in English rugby at the time had effectively banished working-class players to the Northern Union, whilst Wales embraced the working men who flooded into the coalfields.
Rugby became a way to give focus to the new and growing population in South Wales, filling a vital need for sport and entertainment away from the never-ending hard graft in the mines.
Historian Gareth Williams explains: “This was a new society. It was bustling and energetic. It was a society that took sport and drink and physical exertion in large quantities. Rugby provided an opportunity for self-expression and collective expression. An aggressive, self confident working class were increasingly creating their own institutions, whether they were trade unions, choirs or rugby football clubs. They had a growing sense of Welsh nationality.”1
On the other side of the world, in New Zealand, the majority of settlers were working class, and much like the Welsh mining communities, physical strength and male bonding was a prominent part of their communities. The few who migrated across the world to the British empire’s most distant colony were a resilient breed. According to historian Jock Phillips, life was ‘stressful with a lot of drinking, swearing and yarning. Rugby built on the the culture of that particular male community of pioneers.’ Rugby became an important way for communities in New Zealand to express themselves physically and strengthen their ‘mateship’.
Wales 3-0 New Zealand.
Cardiff Arms Park, 16 December 1905.
As the two met each other on the pitch for the first time in 1905, both Wales and New Zealand were countries still searching for their identity. New Zealand had recently began their journey to sovereignty when they rejected to join the new Australian Federation - dominion status was still two years away. Its politics were progressive, becoming the first country to introduce women suffrage in 1893, and its annual population growth between 1881 and 1921 was the highest recorded for any country in this period.
Despite its neoteric path, New Zealand remained ornately British and at times, deeply conservative. Politically independent, yes, but still economically dependent on Britain through the exportation of dairy products and meat. And so grew the self image of ‘Better Britain’. Completely tied to its home country of Britain, but seeking to be healthier, happier, and better. 2
Which, in part, explains the New Zealanders’ rapid ardour for rugby union, a sport born in the privileged halls of English public schools. As New Zealand historian Jock Phillips put it: ‘What better way to be better Britain than by being better than Britain at the most British of games?’
Wales too searched for an identity. The Crown’s conquering of it in the 13th century meant it lacked its own institutions, and was even without a capital city - Cardiff wasn’t recognised as the capital until 1955. Further, much like New Zealand, Wales too experienced tremendous growth. But, whilst New Zealand’s experience was marked by emigration, Wales’ was one of immigration. Many came to Wales from the West Country and other bordering areas of England. South Wales became increasingly more industrialised, and English-speaking. The number of Welsh speakers dropped below 50% in the early 20th century
In 1905, the first national New Zealand rugby team ventured to the northern hemisphere. Dubbed ‘The Originals', the tour was an overwhelming success. A squad of fit, strong, healthy Kiwis pummelling the living daylights into every team that foolishly shared the pitch with them advertised the country more than any tourist department could have ever done.
Pummelling might almost be an understatement. The All Blacks’ long legacy of success was ingrained from the beginning. From the 16th of September to the 13th of December the All Blacks played a staggering 27 matches, winning every single one of them, including test victories over Ireland, Scotland, and England. Of those 27 matches, the All Blacks didn't concede a single point in 20 of them.
On their first official visit to the British Isles, the All Blacks had beaten and demoralised every team they’d faced. Only the tiny principality of Wales was left to conquer. Wales held the Triple Crown, and with New Zealand’s feats of dominance so far on the tour, the first meeting between these two powerhouses would be dubbed the first World Championship of rugby.
New Zealand clearly had not only the physical capacity for rugby, but introduced sophistication and ingenuity to a fundamentally brutal game. One great innovation of theirs, was the seven man pack. Allowing the eighth man to detach as a supplementary half back, a position called the ‘rover’.
As novel and unconventional as the rover was, it was also controversial. Like today’s scrum-halves, the rover would feed the ball into the scrum whilst the nine waited for the ball at the base, allowing attacks to be initiated faster.
The rover, however, would still be in front of the ball, in an offside position, as the ball emerged from the scrum, and would naturally impede the opposition form targeting his scrum-half.
On the 16th of December a crowd of 47,000, many of whom were swept in by the fifty special trains that were organised to bring supporters to Cardiff, eagerly waited to see the All Blacks. Welsh by heart and birth, but also by voice, for song has formed an integral part of the Welsh identity. From early in the morning the choral voices of the Welsh enveloped Cardiff, besieging the ears of the ‘Originals’, whose hotel stood adjacent to the Arms Park.
Shortly before kick-off the All Blacks gathered at the halfway line - a sight rugby fans have become accustomed to - the Haka. It represents the strength, pride and unity of the tribe. A celebration of life triumphing over death. But on the pitch, the Haka is a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down by the All Blacks at the feet of their opponents, a invitation to engage in warfare for the next 80 minutes.
A hush engulfed the Arms Park. The crowd was strangely subdued as they witnessed this war cry for the first time on Welsh soil.
As the Haka concluded, the Welsh players, led by Teddy Morgan, began to sing ‘Hen Wlad fy Nhadau’ (‘The Land of my Fathers’). The crowd soon followed suit. The muted voices of the Welsh rose in volume and the spectators sang the chorus in unison until they were no longer 47,000 individual vocalists, but one single voice that filled every inch of the stadium. It was the first recorded instance of a national anthem being sung before an international sporting fixture, a tradition which still lives on today.
Wales began the match with fierce intensity, spurred on perhaps by pre-match predictions from places such as The Times, who prophesied the Welsh would be overwhelmed by the much bigger forwards of the All Blacks.
Their pack was indeed fearsome, but the Welsh had become accustomed to facing the likes of England and Scotland, whose healthy, well-fed populations bred powerful forwards, forcing Wales to prioritise speed and trickery.
Bigger yes, but the All Blacks' forwards were slow and heavy-footed in comparison to the Welsh pack, who surged across the field with the tourists unable to attack the Welsh line.
Despite 25 minutes of supremacy, Wales had yet to put points on the board. Finally, the artistry of scrum-half R.M. (Dickie) Owen broke the deadlock. Owen (who had garnered such nicknames as “the bullet”, “the Swansea marvel”, “pocket hercules” and “Swansea oracle” due to his predictions of final scores) attacked down the blind side of a scrum from around 30m out. Owen was flanked by his fly-half partner Percy Bush and captain and centre Gwyn Nicholls. The three drew the attention of the New Zealand defence who began to flood across, leaving left wing Teddy Morgan in space.
Morgan had been left unmarked by New Zealand, but not unseen by Owen. With the sharpness that only a man nicknamed ‘the bullet’ could possess, Owen changed direction and hurled a long pass to the Cliff Pritchard, who had positioned as Wales' rover to match New Zealand's tactic. Pritchard swiftly moved the ball to centre Rhys Gabe, who passed to an unmarked Morgan to accelerate 20m and score. Bedlam broke out in the stands.
The Welsh, who had missed a number of chances much earlier in the game, failed to lengthen the gap. The try-scoring Morgan, who had incited pandemonium with his score, looked set to add to his tally before dropping a pass from Bush, who himself missed a second drop-goal attempt.
As Wales’ efforts faded, the All Blacks forwards pressed the hosts, wresting control of the game. Then, with ten minutes left, occurred one of rugby’s most notorious controversies. One which would cement the legendary status of this match, and ensure it be discussed, and argued over, for years to come.
Rob Deans, the Kiwi centre, caught a pass on the Welsh 22. He set off for the line, space galore in front of him. In a bid to score closer to the posts, he cut inside, only to be caught on the white line by the Welsh pairing of left wing Morgan and the centre, Gabe.
Deans claimed that it was a fair try, that he had grounded it some six inches over the line. A claim reportedly supported by some of the Welsh players in a telegram which Dean sent to the Daily Mail, reading:
‘Grounded ball 6 inches over line. Some of Welsh players admit try. Hunter and Glasgow can confirm was pulled back by Welshmen before arrived. Deans.’
In a time long before TMOs, the outcome of the game rested solely on the shoulders of the Scottish referee, John Dallas. He denied ‘disallowing’ the try, claiming that when Deans was tackled, the ball was grounded '6 to 12 inches short of the goal-line.’ As Deans could no longer pass or play the ball, Dallas awarded a scrum. He did admit, however, that when he got to the spot to order the scrum, the ball was over the line, but without hesitation ordered a scrum at the place where Deans was tackled.
It was the most famous non-try in rugby history. A controversy which granted the match legendary status and ensured the memory of it was kept alive. Despite the simple scoreline of 3-0, it was a mightily good game played to the bitter end.
Wales arguably deserved to come away with the victory. They could feel emboldened with a win over a new and wholly challenging rival. The All Blacks, on the other hand, had a starting point. A seed of nationalism had been sown in Cardiff. One which they could base their future success off.
Sometime in the coming century, rugby union became the national game for both countries, becoming their main vehicle for expression and pride. It helped provide the identity that both nations sought. And as the two nations most passionate about the game, a special, unique relationship was born.
I hope you enjoyed this dive into the archive to look at Wales vs New Zealand in 1905. In Part Two, we’ll be looking at their clash in 1953 - the last time that Wales beat the All Blacks. Watch this space.
Smith, S. (1999). The Union Game: A Rugby History. BBC.
Richards, H (2005) Dragons and All Blacks