1. The mystery of
Paul Fry visits
the birthplace
of our national
game seeking
elusive facts
The mystery of
SENSE OF HISTORY: Whatever one’s view of rugby — great game or brawl — the sport has evolved through
countless refinements from the hundreds-strong melee of its birth on the playing fields of Rugby School (above).
Webb EllisWebb Ellis
SACRED: Rugby’s fields are
hallowed ground for visiting teams.
T
HE POSTERS and ads
for next year’s Rugby
World Cup in England
will be stirringly
patriotic, trumpeting
hopes of a home victory and how
the game is “coming home” to
Twickenham.
But for some in the corner of
an English field such sentiment
will be forever foreign. For
Twickers is merely the home of
England rugby and the domestic
game’s governing body, the
Rugby Football Union. The
sport’s true home is 160km
north, in a market town on the
River Avon in Shakespeare’s
county, Warwickshire.
If you are going to the big
jamboree next September and
October, take a detour to the
town of Rugby to get the true
flavour of a game that began in
non-aspirational fashion but has
grown to take a giant hold
globally in sport.
There are spin-off enterprises
in the town: a museum dedicated
to William Webb Ellis —
credited as the first to pick up a
football and run with it — and a
pub named after him. But you
can only truly get in touch with
the game’s roots by visiting
Rugby School, one of Britain’s
oldest independent schools, to
watch a game on The Close
involving the XV (no need for
the word “first”) and see some of
the many fascinating artefacts in
the school museum, which I was
fortunate to do in the company
of archivist Rusty MacLean.
Unlike many other sports,
there is only one definitive home
of rugby football — even if there
is no forensic proof of Webb
Ellis’ groundbreaking moment
of fame, of which he was
oblivious; much of his life was
spent in the Anglican clergy in
the French Alps bordering Italy.
Former Rugby pupils — Old
Rugbeians — formed the rump
of the game’s first
administrators. The game was
“invented” and run by the boys,
not their masters.
The statue of Webb Ellis
outside the school is imposing
and his name is on the World
Cup but his claim as father of
rugby football is far from cast-
iron. There are no contemporary
accounts of that day in 1823
when he supposedly caught the
ball (allowed) and ran forward
with it (forbidden).
Much of the legend is based
on the writings of Matthew
Bloxham, a former pupil then a
solicitor and clerk of court in
Rugby. He wrote to the school’s
magazine in 1876 that he had
heard from an unnamed source,
thought to be his brother, that
the change from a kicking to a
handling game had “originated
with a town boy or foundationer
of the name of Ellis, Webb Ellis”.
Think of that when you see a
black-shirted Kiwi collect a high
kick, spreadeagle a sorry
defence and cruise under the
posts. If you are more a fan of the
round-ball game, consider that it
was a schism between those of a
Rugby persuasion and those
who wanted handling reserved
for goalkeepers alone that led to
the founding of the English
Football Association and, to the
All Whites, Lionel Messi — and
also Fifa.
There is nothing to document
Webb Ellis’ contribution. The
Old Rugbeian Society looked
into the claims in 1895 but found
no proof. Nonetheless they
decided to perpetuate the myth,
as it seemed the most plausible
explanation. It was the same
year that a split in domestic
rugby in England resulted in the
birth of the 200-strong northern
football league, which became
the 13-man oval-ball game.
By this time the number of
players in a football match at
Rugby had been reduced from
hundreds to 20 a side. Games
could last six days, in bursts. A
wonderful drawing in the school
museum, which Rusty pointed
out — beside a sketch of Queen
Adelaide’s visit in 1839 — shows
a game in progress, the goal-line
blocked by onlookers — hence
crossing the line was all but
impossible and counted for
nothing; it merely invited an
attempt (a try) at scoring a goal
by booting the ball over the
crossbar.
In 1841, Big Side Levee, the
body of boys that made the rules,
legalised running with the ball
and it became part of the game
officially in 1846. There were no
referees, no teachers involved;
disputes were ironed out, boy to
boy, on the field.
For Adelaide’s visit the boys
wore special red caps — setting
a tradition common to many
sports today in which caps are
awarded for achievement.
Old Rugbeians carried a
missionary zeal for their old
school game to Britain’s
universities — then all over the
world, including Australia,
Japan and New Zealand.
A sense of history weighs
heavily on today’s pupils — and
inspires visiting teams. The day
of my visit, the XV were
outmuscled by Oundle, 3-33. The
pitch on The Close where Webb
Ellis made his name, was
immaculate, but the players —
boys of 17 and 18 — would have
looked alien to him. Kitted in
white, they may have been, but
these lads looked chiselled, the
result surely of tough personal
training regimes.
Director of sport Simon
Brown, who played for
Harlequins and England at
junior levels, knows his teams
are always a coveted scalp for
visiting sides. He says it was
eerie to play here with his own
school, Radley. “There’s a big
sense of history here.” He says
working at what he terms the
home of the game is “special”.
“I feel hugely privileged.”
The 800-pupil co-ed school
runs 16 sides and Simon says his
undefeated Under-14s hold out
the prospect of success right
through the age ranks.
Rugby School first admitted
girls in 1975 and, while they can
play rugby, they prefer hockey,
netball and tennis. The school
boasts 11 rugby pitches, and
there are four full-time sports
teachers. High-profile rugby
teams and players often visit,
including All Black Josh
Kronfeld.
Rugby School, our host,
language lecturer Jonathan
Smith says, dates from 1567, in
the reign of Elizabeth I. Its
founder, Lawrence Sherriff,
made his fortune supplying the
monarch’s groceries, and his will
specified the creation of a free
grammar school for local lads,
but its reputation for excellence
soon spread. Boys began to come
from much further afield — too
far to commute, so they lodged
with the headmaster and, later,
in dormitory houses. This was
the start of the boarding school.
School House, an 1815
innovation, featured in Tom
Brown’s Schooldays, the book by
Thomas Hughes, who attended
Rugby from 1834 to 1842. The
school has hosted several film
adaptations of the novel based
on the travails of Hughes’
brother, George, which made
Harry Flashman synonymous
with the school bully.
Thomas Arnold, headmaster
when Webb Ellis attended the
school and until 1842, when he
died, orchestrated many of the
reforms for which the school is
famed and they have been much-
copied by schools worldwide.
He added history, maths and
modern languages, introduced
prefects and encouraged sport.
Baron Pierre de Coubertin,
who founded the modern
Olympics, drew inspiration from
Arnold’s philosophy and
considered him the “father of
organised sport”.
A plaque unveiled by Lord
Sebastian Coe in 2009
underscored de Coubertin’s
view. In July 2012, the Olympic
flame was paraded around the
school and paused at the de
Coubertin plaque.
Earlier, a costumed re-
enactment of an 1883 rugby
match on The Close, was
followed by an inspiring Thomas
Arnold Lecture by 400m hurdles
Olympic legend Ed Moses. He
told the students: “I wasn’t the
smartest and I was never the
fastest but I worked and kept my
nose to the grind to get me
where I needed to be.”
As the Olympic flame lit up
the school chapel, the town was
suddenly hit by a power cut. The
lights flickered in the chapel.
Moses, ever the consummate
professional, was unfazed. He
clicked his fingers and the lights
came back on. Pure coincidence,
but a few more souls had been
illuminated at Rugby School,
carrying on centuries of
tradition. One senses Dr Arnold
would have approved.
If you go . . .
Rugby School Museum
tours:
Call the school shop on
01788 556169
or email:
bookshop@rugbyschool.net
Getting there:
Rugby is on the main line
between London Euston
and Birmingham.
On-the-day travel is
expensive, so for cheaper
fares book on
thetrainline.com