“I am very strongly with the Fascist views”: The Double Failure of Arthur Gilligan in 1924–25

A. E. R. Gilligan leading the England team onto the field during the fourth Test match at Melbourne during the 1924–25 series. Left to right: M. W. Tate, E. H. Hendren, A. E. R. Gilligan, H. Sutcliffe, H. Strudwick, W. W. Whysall, J. W. Hearne, A. P. F. Chapman and F. E. Woolley (Image: Wikipedia)

Arthur Gilligan was appointed captain of the MCC team in Australia in 1924–25 (England teams overseas in this period played under the name and colours of the MCC except in Test matches) for several reasons: his social background, his experience of captaining Sussex and his status as one of the best fast bowlers in England. But his selection did not meet with universal approval as there had been questions over how he led England against South Africa in 1924, and there was a better candidate in the inspirational and tactically astute Percy Fender of Surrey. Even the selectors were not quite convinced, offering the captaincy at the last minute to Frank Mann, who was unable to accept. A final setback to England’s prospects was an injury to Gilligan which severely limited his impact as a bowler, instantly removing one of the biggest attractions for his captaincy. History records that Gilligan’s leadership was unsuccessful as England lost the series 4–1; it is much harder to find judgements on how well he did as captain. But perhaps more interesting than anything which took place on the field was what Gilligan did when he was not playing.

Although Gilligan was in charge of the English team on the field, much of the responsibility for what took place off it fell to the team manager, Frederick Toone, who had also held that position during the previous tour of Australia in 1920–21. Toone was the Yorkshire secretary and a capable administrator who kept the tour running smoothly and excelled in organisational matters. But he and Gilligan shared a secret; both men were members of the group known as the British Fascists.

It should be said that the British Fascists were never a major force in England, and were generally little more than an anti-communist organisation partially inspired by Mussolini in Italy. Their outlook was right-wing and traditional; their members included people from the aristocracy, high-ranking officers in the armed forces and at least one other cricketer — the Middlesex bowler F. J. Durston. There is little to indicate at this stage that they professed too many views which fascism later came to embody. Newspapers cheerfully reported on them with no hint that they posed any danger; one such report in the Gloucestershire Echo in December 1924 encouraged people to attend the “attraction of the season”, a fascist whist drive at Gloucester Town Hall. But there were occasional hints of trouble, such as a clearly anti-Communist parade by the Cenotaph in London that November, at which the leader of the movement, Major-General R. D. B. Blakeney claimed that the British Fascists simply aimed to “fight sedition and work for King and country.”

One of the early leaders made an explicit link with the Boy Scouts movement — upholding the “lofty ideals of brotherhood, service and duty”. The historian Martin Pugh, in a study of British fascism between the two world wars, writes that: “Historians have found it hard to take seriously the ‘British Fascisti’, as the organisation was initially known, regarding it as a movement for Boy Scouts who had never grown up.” Pugh suggests that “Many members undoubtedly joined in the hope of finding something mildly adventurous, but had only a superficial grasp of its politics”.

Gilligan (left) and Toone (right) holding commemorative plates presented to them in Sydney on behalf of the MCC team for their sportsmanship during the 1924–25 tour (Image: Sydney Mail, 4 March 1925)

Even so, there was some disquiet over the notion of fascism, and for the MCC it would have been undesirable for it to be widely known that their captain and manager were both members of a political organisation that, to say the least, was unorthodox and militaristic. Although neither man publicly acknowledged their membership before the tour, it is hard to believe that senior members of the MCC would not have known. And in any case, even their friends might have spluttered into their gin-and-tonics had they known what Gilligan and Toone planned in Australia.

Most of what we know of Gilligan and Toone’s activities was presented in a 1991 article in Sporting Traditions by Andrew Moore of the University of West Sydney. While in Australia, Gilligan and Toone came to the attention of the Commonwealth Investigative Branch, who had been informed by intelligence agencies in London that both men were members of the British Fascists. Although Moore cites a report written after the completion of the tour, there is strong circumstantial evidence that Gilligan and Toone arrived as fully fledged fascists with a plan to disseminate fascist literature and create local branches of their organisation. According to Moore:

“Shortly after the departure of the MCC cricketers, officers of the Commonwealth Investigation Branch became aware that an Australian legion of the British Fascists had been established in several of the capital cities. In Sydney, for instance, enrolment forms, internal memoranda and propaganda were uncovered. These were all printed in London, the contact address on the enrolment form being altered in hand-writing to a GPO Box Number…”

Moore notes that the British Fascists’ “Recruiting and Propaganda Department” instructed all members to “talk about the movement to everyone you meet” and “llways carry at least one enrolment form and one of each of the other pamphlets with you wherever you go.” The obvious conclusion — and one almost certainly formed by the original investigators — is that Gilligan and Toone brought the forms into Australia and were involved in the initial establishment of Australian fascist groups affiliated to the British Fascists. And subsequent inquiries were unable to uncover precisely how the groups had come into existence, despite the best efforts of the Commonwealth Investigation Branch and at least one journalist.

Monty Noble pictured in 1932 (Image: Wikipedia)

Although it is likely that much of the organisation was done by the disciplined and efficient Toone, it is hard to imagine that the MCC could have approved of their captain undertaking such activities while representing their club, and being the face of English cricket. The irony is that part of the appeal of Gilligan in Australia was that his uncomplicated character and apparent friendliness made him the ideal person to reinforce the imperial bonds which were such a strong part of British (and English cricket) culture at the time.

Because there is no doubt the Gilligan was extremely popular in Australia. Monty Noble, a former Australian captain who by then was a journalist, was not an easy man to please. But he was oddly enthusiastic about Gilligan in his book about the series, Gilligan’s Men (1925). He wrote that Gilligan was “the type of man who, in the most unostentatious way, can do more than all the politicians and statesmen to cement the relations between the Homeland and the Dominions.” Noble praised his sportsmanship, “cheery optimism” and “debonair countenance”.

Noble also thought that Gilligan was perfect in the role of “empire building”. There is some irony in one judgement: “In these days of national unsettlement and disruptive influences generally, Gilligan proved himself a splendid ambassador for his country. He typified the Englishman at his best, dignified, discreet, cautious, charming and optimistic in the face of all kinds of difficulties.” And in this period, an MCC captain abroad had to be involved in endless rounds of speeches, which required diplomacy and delicacy of touch. Noble praised this side of Gilligan’s captaincy: “His natural qualifications socially, his tactful speeches, and the soundness of his administration [in reality, this side of affairs was the responsibility of Toone] won more adherents to the Empire’s cause than the winning of a hundred test matches could have done.” There is no doubt that these considerations were part of the reason that the MCC had appointed Gilligan and overlooked Percy Fender, whom the establishment did not trust. Yet if their chosen man Gilligan could breeze through Australia and charm everyone, it was his sideline in promoting fascism which should have rung alarm bells at Lord’s, not Fender’s insistence that amateurs and professionals enter the field through the same gate.

Embed from Getty Images

The MCC team which toured Australia in 1924–25, attending a mayoral reception in Melbourne. Back row: J. W. Hearne, R. Kilner, H. Howell, R. K. Tyldesley, M. W. Tate, W. W. Whysall, A. Sandham, H. Sutcliffe, E. H. Hendren, H. Strudwick. Front row: A. P. Freeman, J. B. Hobbs, J. W. H. T. Douglas, A. E. R. Gilligan, William Brunton (Mayor of Melbourne), F. C. Toone, F. E. Woolley, A. P. F. Chapman, J. L. Bryan

For all of Noble’s attempts to champion Gilligan, the latter’s primary goal as England captain was success on the pitch. Once we set aside imperial propaganda, Gilligan’s achievements were thin on the ground. But there remained a sense that he had done well, even though England lost the series 4–1. As late as 1979, Alan Gibson wrote in The Cricket Captains of England: “[Gilligan’s] tour was successful in everything but victory, and this was sensed by the English public, who assembled in large numbers to welcome the side home … He revolutionised the English fielding, a department in which they began to compare with Australia, for the first time since the war and possibly since the early 1900s. This had much effect on the England sides of the next few years. He was, and is, one of the most popular captains England have sent to Australia.” Gibson was being a little generous; one Australian newspaper estimated that England dropped 21 catches in the series.

The mainstream view was that reported in Wisden:

“There was never great probability that Gilligan, after the injury he had sustained in the previous summer, would prove effective in the long drawn-out battles into which Test matches in Australia resolve themselves, and, as things went, he accomplished little as bowler or batsman. For all that Gilligan proved himself a popular captain and set his men a brilliant example in fielding. How highly his efforts were appreciated in this country was shown in the welcome which awaited him on his return. Had he brought the Ashes with him he could scarcely have been received with more enthusiasm.”

In reality, Gilligan’s ineffectiveness with the ball placed a huge burden on a bowling attack which lacked depth. But most official sources of information are quiet on how the captain performed in any non-diplomatic role. Was he a good captain? How did his tactics influence the result?

Neither Wisden nor The Cricketer had much to say; nor did most newspapers. But several articles written after the tour are clearly addressing complaints that had been made about the captaincy, and it seems that Gilligan did not distinguish himself tactically. His biggest critic was once again Cecil Parkin, who writing from England in the Weekly Dispatch, argued that the captain should be replaced by either Jack Hobbs or Percy Chapman. In fairness to Parkin, this did not match his complaints from 1924; his point was more the excellence of Hobbs than the ineffectiveness of Gilligan; he did, however, drop the latter from his proposed team for the third Test. But Parkin had once again grabbed the headlines, particularly through his revolutionary suggestion that a professional should be captain. This brought condemnation upon him — not least from Lord Hawke, who was provoked into his infamous “Pray God no professional shall ever captain England” speech in January 1925 — and had the effect of shielding Gilligan from other criticism; no-one in the establishment wanted to be seen to agree with the loathsome Parkin.

Lost tosses in four of the Tests — all of which Australia won — and some bad luck with injuries ultimately doomed England to a 4–1 loss. But the diminishing margins of victory in the first three matches and a dominant win by Gilligan’s team in the fourth led to a general view that the result flattered Australia; it was argued that 3–2 would better have reflected the standing of the two teams. However, that overlooked how reliant the team was on three players: Tate bowled the equivalent of 421 six-ball overs in five Tests (eight balls per over were bowled in the series), taking 38 wickets at an average of 23.18; Jack Hobbs and Herbert Sutcliffe shared four century opening partnerships, including one in which they batted throughout a whole day and put on 283.

Despite this imbalance in the team, one criticism levelled at Gilligan by Noble in Gilligan’s Men was that there were too many players and therefore Gilligan was not able to give them enough time on the field to keep them in form. This is borne out to some extent by the experience of Roy Kilner, who was overlooked in the early part of the tour and did not play enough to force his way into the team until the third Test, when he immediately established himself as the best bowler after Tate. And Douglas and Howell, the supposed back-up pace bowlers, played one Test between them. But the lack of support for Tate in particular was a huge problem, exacerbated by Gilligan’s lack of impact with the ball. Throughout the series, despite having “too many” players, the English team struggled to bowl sides out cheaply.

Another incident — which Noble intended to use to illustrate a positive point about Gilligan — may have been frowned upon by those in England and in the MCC who believed that, for national prestige, England needed to win rather more than they needed to be good sports. With his team heading for defeat against Victoria in a match before the Test series began, Gilligan refused to attempt closing the game down through defensive tactics or time-wasting in the last five minutes, and the MCC duly conceded a doubtless morale-sapping defeat. Noble might have written that the team smiled and conducted themselves very well, but it was still a loss; international cricket had moved beyond sporting gestures and such an approach by the captain was something of a throwback.

Later on in his book, Noble stated:

“At the outset of the tour [Gilligan] could not have been described as a Napoleon of Cricket. But that was due wholly to inexperience … As captain, however, his improvement during the tour was astonishing. By the time the last Test was played he had learned many valuable lessons, and no experience was lost on him. His ability to use the correct bowlers for certain situations and for different batsmen increased with every match, and his placing of the field became so expert that it materially strengthened the attack, saved many runs, and steadied the rate of scoring.”

The problem, as Noble was doubtless aware, was that Gilligan had been the captain of Sussex since 1922 and had led England during the previous summer. Therefore, he should not have been making elementary mistakes early in the tour which might well have cost England dearly. Gibson, who noted without elaboration that “there were those who suggested that Gilligan was too easygoing on the finer points of law,” also mentioned how Gilligan — who was a capable batsman even at Test level — had been not out overnight at the climax of the third Test. England needed 27 to win with two wickets left, and Gilligan latest said that he had struggled to sleep; he was dismissed early on the last morning and his side lost by 11 runs. Gibson wrote: “I wonder if a harder man … might have slept better and got the runs.”

Some Australian critics thought Gilligan did a reasonable job though. Edgar Mayne, the captain of Victoria, wrote approvingly of how Gilligan spotted during the second Test that conditions would favour Hearne’s wrist-spin, and how he used Douglas to give Tate a rest. An article in the Brisbane Daily Mail defended Gilligan after some nameless authorities had blamed him for defeat in the second Test; while conceding that he was not a great captain, the writer even blamed others in the team, whom Gilligan was apparently consulting too often.

His own men were perhaps less convinced. Frank Woolley, a key member of the team, later told his biographer Ian Peebles that he believed England would have won the third Test “under a sterner captain than the genial, amenable Arthur Gilligan”. He told a story how England had been on top at one point, with two well-set English batsmen facing a tiring Australian attack when there was an interruption for a light rain shower. The Australian captain Herbie Collins went with Gilligan and the umpires to inspect the pitch. “Despite the almost non-existent effect of the rain he immediately turned to the umpires and said he thought it would be fit in an hour’s time. They nodded agreement, and Collins, moving off as though all was settled, said, ‘Suit you, Arthur?’ Arthur’s acquiescence meant rest and recovery for the bowlers and loss of touch for the batsman, all of which Frank believes could just have tipped the scale.”

But the English press would hear no wrong. At the beginning of January, even before Parkin’s article appeared, the Daily Mirror published an odd extract from what appears to be a telegram from Australia, discussing reaction there to Gilligan’s captaincy, which said: “[Gilligan’s] selection of the Test team was universally approved, his leadership very sound, and that he is largely responsible for the reputation our men have gained of being the best fielding team that has ever visited Australia.” The message concluded that even Noble or Warwick Armstrong, two of the more revered Australian captains, could have done no better. This was printed after England had conceded a score of 600, the highest in Tests until then, in the second Test.

In January, at the height of the Parkin-created storm over the captaincy, when everyone from Hawke to Pelham Warner came out to defend Gilligan, a letter-writer to the Birmingham Daily Gazette noted that it seemed forbidden to criticise Gilligan, who he argued could not be as ideal a captain as the establishment made out given that England were losing. A similar view was expressed in the Yorkshire Post soon after.

At the end of the tour, an article in the Aberdeen Press and Journal summarised the criticisms of Gilligan which other newspapers overlooked. Its biggest complaint was the he had not picked Kilner until the third Test, which left Tate overworked. And it also suggested that Gilligan should not have taken the new ball himself as his bowling merely served to play the batsmen in. A final issue was his repeated changing of the batting order, such as when he used two nightwatchmen in the third Test and opened with neither Hobbs nor Sutcliffe but W. W. Whysall.

Arthur Gilligan in 1930 (Image: Wikipedia)

Some of these issues were raised in a length interview that Gilligan gave to The Cricketer on his return to England. The gushing feature — possibly written by the editor Pelham Warner, who had contributed an article at the height of the Parkin row in which he disparagingly dismissed the idea that a professional could be a good captain — began:

“A. E. R. Gilligan, looking extraordinarily bronzed and fit, is back again in England, without having accomplished his great ambition of bringing back the ‘Ashes,’ but having brought back everything else. No more popular captain ever visited Australia, and though victory did not come his way, yet both he and his men played the game in a spirit which has endeared them for all time to the Australian public. Their reception, both on and off the field, was extraordinarily cordial, even affectionate, and when they returned home they met with a reception at Victoria Station that equalled, if it did not surpass, anything which they experienced in Australia.”

Less convincingly, the author suggested that the positive reception showed that “victory is not necessarily the main objective.” In fact, the feature is over-the-top in its praise of Gilligan and his jovial personality.

In the interview, Gilligan suggested that Australia’s more consistent batting — and the runs contributed by their tail — was the main difference between the teams, although he agreed that Tate had no-one to support him in the same way, for example, that Charles Kelleway could help Jack Gregory and Arthur Mailey simply by keeping a good length. But he made some interesting points about Collins, “a very able captain who leaves nothing to chance and who misses few, if any, points in the game.” He noted that Collins’ field-placing was extremely good and suggested that partly this was because of the scoring charts provided to him by the Australian scorer, Bill Ferguson; these early versions of the “wagon wheel” enabled Collins to work out the best field for each batter. Gilligan recommended a similar approach for the next time Australia toured England, and he was in favour of any “scientific” method which might help England in future.

Gilligan told The Cricketer that he had come to wish that he had played Kilner in the first two Tests but insisted that his form in the early part of the tour meant that others were ahead of him. Of his own bowling, Gilligan reported that he could move the new ball for a couple of overs but after that was powerless on the Australian pitches and bowling “did not greatly appeal to him”.

Gilligan also addressed some particular criticisms which had been made of his tactics in the second Test: promoting Woolley to number three ahead of Jack Hearne after Hobbs and Sutcliffe had scored 283 for the first wicket (he hoped Woolley would deal with Mailey, who was bowling, but he was dismissed for 0 by Gregory, precipitating a collapse) and why he switched the end from which Tate was bowling after he had reduced Australia to 27 for three in their second innings, after which they recovered to score 250 (Tate had been bowling into the wind and requested to switch; Gilligan said he always gave Tate what he wanted, but why would Tate not have asked for this at the start?).

Despite the nebulous nature of much of the discussion surrounding Gilligan’s captaincy, it seems clear that a better leader might have had a better result; many critics agreed it was a strong England team. And some of Gilligan’s decisions look to have contributed to the defeat. Certainly, the selectors were in future more discerning in their choice of captain and it was not longer enough just to be sporting and graceful in defeat; on the next Ashes tour in 1928–29, the apparently cheery and popular Percy Chapman ruthlessly ground Australia into submission by a policy of attrition that Gilligan would have scorned.

In fairness, Gilligan did later prove to have an analytical mind concerning cricket. Apart from his interest in Ferguson’s scoring charts, he championed using what today would be called the strike-rate of a bowler to determine their effectiveness. And his writings on future series, such as his book on the 1926 Ashes, Collins’ Men, were hardly superficial. In later years, he became a journalist and one of the earliest radio commentators after the Second World War. But as a captain in 1924–25, he was lacking.

However, his interview with The Cricketer — as well as other, shorter interviews with other publications — was not his final word on the tour. As he returned home, it became public knowledge that Gilligan was a member of the British Fascists. An article in the Sheffield Telegraph reported (somewhat inaccurately) that Gilligan and Toone were enrolled as members on the journey home from Australia, and he began to speak at events. For example, a letter from him was read aloud at a meeting of the British Fascists at Bognor in June 1925, in which he said “I am very strongly with the Fascist views”. Most infamously, he wrote an article called “The Spirit of Fascism and Cricket Tours” for The Bulletin — the publication of the British Fascists — in May 1925, in which he said: “In … cricket tours it is essential to work solely on the lines of Fascism, i.e. the team must be good friends and out for one thing, and one thing only, namely the good of the side, and not for any self-glory.” Gilligan was not the first to make such links — and it perhaps reinforces the notion that he held a “boy scouts” view of fascism — but those others did not enjoy his high profile as the England captain.

This article at least provoked a reaction in the Daily News, which openly mocked Gilligan:

“It is a little astonishing to find Mr A. E. R. Gilligan, the captain of the English Cricket Team, airing his views in the pages of a journal which describes itself as ‘the Only Organ of the British Fascists’; it is still more astonishing to see what he says. ‘In these cricket tours,’ declares the cricket captain in his most diverting sentence, ‘it is essential to work solely on the lines of Fascism.’ As a humorous writer Mr. Gilligan may be congratulated on the short essay in which he plays variations on this novel theme . He will, as the saying is, have his little joke. It was no doubt only lack of space which cut short even more fantastic flights of his imagination.”

The writer continued his theme, making sardonic suggestions that cricketers might take the field in black shirts, marching on to the sound of military drums, but cautioned:

“Yet perhaps it would be kind to warn Mr Gilligan, who has been away for some time, that jokes of this kind are a little dangerous, people take politics so very seriously and they may only fail to see what on earth cricket has to do with Fascism … Mr. Gilligan has been a very popular figure on the cricket field; one may humbly suggest that he may not be so welcome in the field of politics, or even in the field of humorous essay-writing.”

Gilligan played little cricket in the 1925 season, apparently because of injury, and so was not selected for the only fully representative game, the Gentlemen v Players match at Lord’s. Instead, Arthur Carr led the Gentlemen, which was an indication of where the selectors’ thoughts lay. It is interesting to speculate whether Gilligan’s open support of fascism might have counted against him had he played more often, but it is probably safe to conclude that it wouldn’t. Because he was one of the Test selectors for the 1926 Ashes series — although unlike Warner, the chairman, he was always silent about what went on at the meetings and does not seem to have rocked the boat too much — and led an MCC team in India in 1926–27 which, as we shall see, had far-reaching consequences. And in his wider life, his membership did not prevent him from being awarded the Freedom of the City of London in 1926.

Even when it became clear that fascism was a major threat in Europe, Gilligan’s views never seem to have been brought up. But if he and Toone had hoped to establish the British Fascists in Australia, their efforts were largely wasted. Although fascism did become established in Australia, it was not through the British Fascists. And that organisation did not last much longer either. In the history of fascism in Britain, they were soon eclipsed by the far more influential British Union of Fascists, and practically vanished after 1926. However, as late as 1927, Gilligan was still associated with them, giving a speech at an event in Ealing.

Gilligan’s first-class career continued intermittently until 1932, but after the 1924–25 tour, he was never in contention for the England team again. He did respectably well with the ball in 1926 and 1928 without ever approaching his form from 1923 and 1924, and he batted quite well, even scoring a thousand runs in 1926. But after 1928, he barely played. His last significant cricket came when he was selected to lead an MCC team in India during the 1926–27 season. And that is a whole other story…

“A master of detail, he thought of everything”: Sir Frederick Toone, the Fascist Manager of England?

Sir Frederick Charles Toone by Bassano Ltd
Whole-plate glass negative, 6 May 1929
NPG x124562 © National Portrait Gallery, London

Between 1903 and 1930, probably the most influential figure in Yorkshire cricket was not a player but the quietly anonymous secretary Frederick Toone. He was the guiding force behind the scenes, taking care of finances, organisation and many other tiny details that made Yorkshire the most successful county both on and off the field. If Lord Hawke was the public face of the club, Toone was crucial to its day-to-day running. Largely forgotten now, he was one of the most important figures in English cricket during the 1920s. But there was one aspect of his life to which little attention was paid and which subsequent histories have perhaps deliberately overlooked. During his most influential years, he was an active member of the British Fascists.

Frederick Charles Toone was born on 25 June 1868 in Leicester, where his sporting achievements were largely limited to running, rugby union and club cricket. He left a job in the printing trade to become the Secretary at Leicestershire County Cricket Club, a position he held between 1897 and 1902. In that time, membership of the county increased from 500 to 1,800. But following the resignation of the long-standing Yorkshire Secretary Joseph Wostinholm in 1902, Toone applied to succeed him. From many applicants, the final choice was between Toone and the Essex cricketer E. H. D. Sewell. When Toone was chosen, Sewell applied for his old post at Leicestershire — some early reports said that he had taken the job — but lost out there to V. F. S. Crawford who, unlike Toone, was able to combine the role of Secretary with playing as an amateur for the cricket team.

Toone held the position of Yorkshire Secretary until his death in 1930. A. W. Pullin, in his History of Yorkshire County Cricket 1903–1923 mentions his achievements at some length: doubling the county membership; centralising control of the county’s management, which had previously been split between the clubs on whose grounds Yorkshire played; improving and extending the grounds; and expanding and better organising the players’ benefit matches.

At first, Toone kept a low profile. He gave an interview to Cricket magazine in March 1911 which managed to say very little except to praise Lord Hawke (“I should like to say at this stage, if you will kindly permit me, how we all love his lordship”) and talk about how good the Committee were (Toone calls them “my Committee”). He also discussed matters such as the lack of amateurs playing for Yorkshire, cricket’s fluctuating popularity and Yorkshire’s youth recruitment processes.

Frederick Toone pictured in 1911 (Image: Cricket, 30 March 1911)

Toone lived in the Horsforth area while he was Secretary, and became a locally important figure. In 1911 he was chairman of the Horsforth Urban Council, and was made a County Magistrate for the West Riding in the same year. During the First World War, he helped to organise charity cricket matches, and held the rank of Secretary, then Captain and County Adjutant in the West Riding Volunteers. He was also Sectional Commander of the Special Constables at Horsforth.

After the war, Toone became more prominent. Pullin wrote in 1923 that “through Mr Toone’s grip of managerial and controversial questions, backed up by the personality and persuasiveness of Lord Hawke, Yorkshire has an influence at Lord’s second to no county in the first class ranks.” Toone’s ability was recognised when he was asked to manage the MCC team in Australia for the 1920–21 Ashes series. While the tour was a catastrophic failure on the field — Australia won all five Test matches — Toone’s management was praised. But it is here that we can begin to see a little more of the steel which he must have possessed to be such a successful administrator. With results going badly, Toone tried to replace the captain J. W. H. T. Douglas. Nothing came of it, and Douglas continued to lead the team. The source for this tale is Percy Fender, Toone’s preferred choice to take charge. Richard Streeton, to whom he told the story, wrote in his 1981 biography of Fender:

“Some years later Fender was amazed to learn from Fred Toone, the MCC manager, that after England had lost the first two Test matches, Toone had asked Douglas to consider standing down to allow Fender to lead England in the third Test at Adelaide … [Toone] seemed himself to have been the prime mover behind this suggestion. It had the support of [Jack] Hobbs and [Frank] Woolley, but it was indicative of the lack of unity in the party, perhaps, that [Wilfred] Rhodes did not appear to have been consulted about the suggested change.”

Toone in fact had a difficult relationship with Wilfred Rhodes. In 1920, the Yorkshire professionals complained about the pay for their three away matches against Oxford University, Cambridge University and the MCC; unlike other counties, Yorkshire paid less for these matches than for away County Championship games. Toone promised to look into it but told the Committee that nothing need be done. Rhodes was under the impression that Toone had also said that, as the complaint came from him, it was not justified. Rhodes’ dislike of Toone hardened on that 1920-21 tour when another story got back to him: that Toone had said to Abe Waddington, another Yorkshire cricketer selected for the 1920–21 tour, that “Wilfred’s finished”. Rhodes came to believe that Toone was responsible for the loss of his England place after one Test of the 1921 Ashes series — although as Toone was not a selector, nor particularly influential with that season’s selection panel, it is hard to see how he could have managed this.

This was not the only time they clashed. Toone suggested, at the start of the 1927 season, that Rhodes should resign as Yorkshire’s Senior Professional — and perhaps by implication, retire from the team — as Yorkshire manoeuvred to appoint Herbert Sutcliffe as their next captain. Rhodes did not resign, and was later openly critical of the appointment of Sutcliffe, which was soon rescinded. According to Rhodes’ biographer Sidney Rogerson:

“What [Rhodes] hated was anything that smacked of shifty dealing, and … [he] held firm to the view that ‘Toone was not straight’, that he would say one thing in Leeds and another at Lord’s, give one answer to the captain and his professionals and quite another to the secretariat of the MCC or his opposite numbers from other counties.”

Frederick Toone photographed around 1923
(Image: History of Yorkshire County Cricket 1903-1923 (1924) by AW Pullin)

Others were much happier with Toone, and his influence increased. In 1923 the British government appointed him to a committee which investigated crowd safety at sporting events following trouble at the 1923 FA Cup final. The MCC asked him to manage the 1924–25 tour of Australia. Like the previous one, it was not a success on the field — this time England lost 4–1 — although Toone’s performance as manager was again praised. However, not everything was quite as straightforward as it appeared at the time.

In 1991, an article in Sporting Traditions by Andrew Moore of the University of West Sydney revealed that while in Australia both Toone and the England captain Arthur Gilligan came to the attention of the Commonwealth Investigative Branch, who had been informed by intelligence agencies in London that both men were members of the British Fascists. There is also some evidence that Toone and Gilligan may have distributed literature in an unsuccessful attempt to boost fascism in Australia. Unsurprisingly, it has been Gilligan’s part in this, as the glamorous England captain, which has attracted the attention of historians. But it is likely that Toone, universally recognised for his administrative and organisational skills, was a far more effective force in trying to establish fascist groups in Australia; Gilligan would have offered little but fame and enthusiastic speeches.

It should be said that the British Fascists were never a major force — certainly in comparison to Oswald Moseley’s (unconnected) British Union of Fascists — and were generally little more than an anti-communist, anti-left-wing organisation partially inspired by Mussolini in Italy. Their outlook was right wing and traditional; their members included people from the aristocracy, high-ranking officers in the armed forces and at least one other cricketer — the Middlesex bowler F. J. Durston. There is little to indicate at this stage that they professed too many views which fascism later came to embody. One of the early leaders of the British Fascists made an explicit link with the Boy Scouts movement — upholding the “lofty ideals of brotherhood, service and duty”. The historian Martin Pugh, in a study of British fascism between the two world wars, writes that: “Historians have found it hard to take seriously the ‘British Fascisti’, as the organisation was initially known, regarding it as a movement for Boy Scouts who had never grown up.” Pugh suggests that “Many members undoubtedly joined in the hope of finding something mildly adventurous, but had only a superficial grasp of its politics”.

Gilligan (left) and Toone (right) holding commemorative plates presented to them in Sydney on behalf of the MCC team for their sportsmanship during the 1924–25 tour (Image: Sydney Mail, 4 March 1925)

This view is supported by later comments of both Gilligan and Toone. The former wrote an article after the Ashes tour called “The Spirit of Fascism and Cricket Tours” for The Bulletin, a publication of the British Fascists. He wrote: “In … cricket tours it is essential to work solely on the lines of Fascism, i.e. the team must be good friends and out for one thing, and one thing only, namely the good of the side, and not for any self-glory.” Toone, on the next MCC tour of Australia, gave a speech in which he was asked to give a definition of cricket. He used a quotation — which he did not attribute or acknowledge not to be his own — by a golfer called David R. Forgan which apparently dates from 1899 but was quite widespread in golfing circles in the early 1920s. Nevertheless, it reinforces how Toone might have viewed both cricket and fascism:

“It is a science, the study of a lifetime, in which you may exhaust yourself, but never your subject. It is a contest, a duel or melee, calling for courage, skill, strategy and self-control. It is a contest of temper, a trial of honour, a revealer of character. It affords a chance to play the man and act the gentleman. It means going into God’s out-of-doors, getting close to nature, fresh air, exercise, a sweeping away of mental cobwebs, genuine recreation of the tired tissues. It is a cure for care, an antidote to worry. It includes companionship with friends, social intercourse, opportunities of courtesy, kindliness, and generosity to an opponent. It promotes not only physical health but mental force.”

Incidentally, Toone re-used this quote in an article for the 1929 Wisden, and it has since been falsely attributed several times to him.

But if Gilligan and Toone shared this “Boy Scout” view of fascism — that it simply embraced fellowship and the outdoors — the intelligence services were concerned enough to monitor them closely and pass on information to Australia. That the two most important figures on the 1924–25 tour were effectively trying to recruit fascists would have reflected badly on the MCC had it been widely publicised. However their association with the British Fascists was no secret: for example it was reported in the Sheffield Telegraph (somewhat inaccurately) that the two men were enrolled as members on the journey home from Australia, and Gilligan spoke publicly on his fascist views in 1925.

The British Fascists all but vanished after 1926. However, as late as 1927, Gilligan was still associated with them, giving a speech at an event in Ealing. We do not know how long Toone continued his association. Neither Gilligan nor Toone were adversely affected by their membership though; Gilligan captained an MCC team to India in 1926–27 and many years later served as MCC President. As for Toone, he was asked to manage his third successive MCC tour of Australia in 1928–29.

In contrast to his previous two tours, Toone’s third visit to Australia was a resounding success as England, under the captaincy of Percy Chapman, won the series 4–1. Toone was particularly praised by Chapman and Australian critics. The players also appreciated him, for example when he forced an apology from an Australian official for falsely accusing George Geary of having left the field without permission during a game. In July 1929, Toone was rewarded with a knighthood “in recognition of his great work in helping to promote the best relations between the Commonwealth and the Mother Country”. Had he lived, he would almost certainly have been asked to manage the 1932–33 MCC tour instead of Pelham Warner; more than one historian has suggested that many of the controversies of the “Bodyline” series could have been avoided had Toone been in charge.

While basking in the acclaim for managing such a successful tour, Toone wrote an article that appeared in the 1929 Wisden. It was a modest piece, which attributed much of the smooth running of his three tours to the arrangements made beforehand by the MCC. He wrote that the manager’s role was to carry out the arrangements for travel and accommodation made by the MCC, and that his first duty was “to see that the comfort of the players is properly provided for”. This involved looking after every detail and ensuring that their health was taken care of, for example by having a masseur available. He also wrote of the “avalanche of letters” that needed to be dealt with, and “a mountain of data” about the itinerary for the tour. Additionally, he had to arrange and liaise with various bodies about the social arrangements — always an important part of any tour in the period.

Shortly after this, Toone became ill and died at the age of 61 on 10 June 1930, leaving a wife, a son, and two daughters. Tributes poured in, not least from Lord Hawke, mourning his old friend, and the Yorkshire players Herbert Sutcliffe and Wilfred Rhodes (the latter perhaps somewhat hypocritically). Toone’s obituary in Wisden states: “A master of detail, he thought of everything, and the fact that he went three times to Australia as manager of the teams sent out by MCC since the War clearly showed the extent to which he enjoyed the confidence of the ruling body of the game.” His obituary in the Sheffield Daily Telegraph stated: “He was the model of tact, and no-one was more dexterous smoothing out difficulties. He had many friends, who will all miss him —not least those members of the Press who frequently came contact with him and to whom he was always a courteous and an invaluable helper.”

He was equally appreciated in Australia. One tribute said that Toone “had the confidence of all sections of cricketers in England and Australia, and it was due greatly to his tact and ability that the tours since the war were such a success, not only financially, but in cementing the cordial relations that exist between the governing bodies in England and Australia.” It noted that “his bedroom in the various hotels in which the team stayed was converted into an office, and he carried on his work so unobtrusively that it may have been thought that he was merely travelling with the team, instead of being its manager.” But perhaps less fortunately given his political background, the same tribute stated: “It was not only as a cricket manager, but as an Imperialist, that Sir Frederick would be remembered.”

If some of this smacks of hagiography, there seems little doubt that Toone was an exceptionally capable and energetic administrator. But if he was the toast of the Committee members, scratching beneath the surface reveals some less comfortable aspects of his time as Yorkshire Secretary.

Toone attended most meetings of various Yorkshire committees. The tone of these sometimes comes across as something of an “Old Boy’s Club”. Pleas for financial assistance from old professionals were often dismissed out of hand while the main Yorkshire Committee discussed arrangements for entertaining the Lancashire Committee when they attended the Roses matches. In the case of William Bates (who then played for Glamorgan), the finance committee refused to send him £56 of his benefit money until he wrote to them “civilly” after they objected to the tone of his request. The finance committee also insisted that the benefit money of former players should be completely under their control, even consulting solicitors to ensure this. Benefits were refused unless players signed an agreement which allowed Yorkshire to retain two thirds of the money collected which they would invest on behalf of the player. This arrangement was the source of much resentment among Yorkshire’s players, and may well have been driven by Toone’s reforms of the Yorkshire benefit system.

Terms for Toone were more generous: a wage of £600, plus travel expenses for the train from his Horsforth home; in 1920, he was also given a car, worth £400, that was sold after his death. A testimonial for him in the 1920s raised £3,500, which included subscriptions from Ceylon and Australia. When he was ill in 1930, his medical bills were paid, and the cost of his funeral was covered: a total of over £200. His widow was also given a grant for several years. Yet when Roy Kilner’s widow asked Yorkshire in 1930 (after Toone’s death) for money from her husband’s benefit fund to cover the cost of the education of her second child, it was turned down.

Toone was therefore well rewarded for his years of service. Yorkshire too undoubtedly benefited from his reforms and improvements. His time as Secretary was a period of huge success both on the field — Yorkshire won the County Championship eight times during his 27 years at the club — and off, where the county became very wealthy. Whether the players were as fond of him as the county or MCC officials is perhaps a little more doubtful. But it says much about the period that, other than Rhodes, there is not one single dissenting voice in any written source about Toone, even though he must have been resented by many of the players whom he served to keep in their place.