The men of a village choir in the Rhondda Valley wore their dark overcoats buttoned against the biting wind blowing in from Cardiff Bay.
Their gray hair lent the passion of their singing a poignant air, as if they were singing for something that has passed and will not return, but they and the team in red that was lined up before them sang Land of My Fathers as if the soul of the Country of Wales depended on it.
After the week that Wales had, it looked like pomp and pageantry was more important than ever. It was almost all that was left for the Wales fans. So they sang their hearts out too.
And because England had demanded that the roof of the Principality Stadium be kept open to dissipate the atmosphere, the cacophony of voices rose straight to the heavens.
Even those choruses of voices could not dispel the melancholy that had settled over Welsh rugby.
Wales’ performance in defeat to England offered little comfort after a challenging week
Wales fans showed their support for the players but the performance offered little comfort
The memory of how the Wales players came close to going on strike and forcing the abandonment of this Six Nations clash over complaints about mysterious contract and eligibility arrangements imposed on them by the Welsh Rugby Union was still too fresh in memory for that.
There was no resentment towards the players from their supporters. None. The fans were on their side. But the air of crisis and the pain of conflict was everywhere. The sorry state of Welsh rugby is about more than just the offense.
The WRU is reeling from accusations of racism, sexism and misogyny. Participation numbers are low. Doubts surround the four-region structure of the Welsh domestic game and its financial viability. Wales captain Ken Owens called Welsh rugby a ‘laughing stock’.
Rugby across the world is facing an existential crisis because, at a time when more and more is known about the damage caused by repeated concussions, at a time when the game is facing class action lawsuits brought by heroes fallen in the clutches of early-onset dementia and other illnesses, rugby and the questions it asks the gigantic bodies of the young men and women who play it, seems increasingly incompatible with modern life and its sensibilities.
The sport is caught between the commercial desire to play more and the need to protect players’ health by playing less, and when the two collide, the money men usually get what they want.
“This is a solemn moment for us in Welsh rugby which, I must confess, is to say the least,” said Gerald Davies, WRU chairman, in his notes at the front of the match programme. ‘In the foreground are major grievances, occasional recriminations and deviations, hostile reproaches and home truths.
Louis Rees-Zammit impressed early in the second half but Wales were unable to keep up the pressure
‘When only one wound has been treated and is on its way to being healed with some relief, then another spot arises elsewhere to focus the mind. It was a harrowing period, relentless in its commentary and judgments. We are sorry that it has come to this. It would be a relief to be able to take a break.
Apart from that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?
Well, actually, the piece didn’t bring much comfort either. Wales had already lost their first two Six Nations games, beaten by Ireland and Scotland in the first two matches, following the second arrival of manager Warren Gatland.
And this match with England felt a lot like Division Two compared to some of the breathtaking matches ever served up by Ireland and France.
Wales took the lead in the opening minutes of the second half when winger Louis Rees-Zammit, recalled, intercepted a loose pass and ran from the halfway line.
But Wales lost that advantage almost immediately when support Kyle Sinckler hit from close range. The game was marred by English cheers and raised fists celebrating a succession of forced penalties at half-time.
When Ollie Lawrence leapt into the corner with five minutes to go and extended England’s lead to ten points, the game was over.
Wales, drained by the events of a traumatic week, had no chance to force a return to play. The chords of ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot’ began to sound through the stadium. The final whistle ended Wales’ suffering.
Sir Gareth Edwards has auctioned off a collection of his match-worn shirts, including the Barbarians jersey in which he scored a memorable try against New Zealand in 1973 (centre)
And so, for now, Wales can only find shelter from the storm in the past. The reverence for the way rugby was and its place in the principality’s cultural heart is still everywhere.
On Friday, at an auction house on the outskirts of the Welsh capital, they sold the shirt Gareth Edwards wore when he scored the most famous and biggest try in rugby union history for a new record for a rugby shirt of £240,000 . Preoccupation with the present can deepen nostalgia for the past. Perhaps the auctioneers timed the sale just right.
Edwards was playing in the Barbarians’ black and white kit that day, of course, but he is a legend of Wales and a symbol of the importance of the sport to his country.
The spectacular seven-man move that led to the try was started by Edwards’ fellow Welshman Phil Bennett and took place in front of a raucous crowd at Cardiff Arms Park. It was a barbaric attempt born and made in Wales.
Even in its current perilous position, it still seems that rugby is central to Welsh culture in a way that it is not in England or anywhere other than New Zealand. Sport represents tradition and also represents national pride and beauty.
A few miles from the Principality Stadium, Llandaff Rugby Club looked like a picture of Wales, a manicured pitch and uprights standing proudly against the backdrop of the majesty of Llandaff Cathedral.
The club, formed in 1876, was hosting a match between Rygbi Senedd Cymru and House of Commons and Lords RUFC five hours before the start of the Wales v England match.
Even in its current perilous position, it still seems that rugby is central to Welsh culture.
At the clubhouse, there was more reverence for history. In a glass case that ran the length of one wall was a collection of Wales shirts with another Barbarians shirt in pride of place.
That part of the exhibit was a shrine to Rex Willis. A plaque above his photo read that Willis was ‘Llandaff Rugby Club’s greatest player’ and mentioned that he had played for the Barbarians several times between 1950 and 1954.
Next to it, on the wall, was a request for money in the form of a ‘Buy a brick’ campaign. ‘Whatever your role,’ read the appeal, ‘please help fill our funding gap with our “Buy a Brick” scheme.’
Llandaff had its own moment in the sun on Saturday when one of its most loyal servants, Adrian Davies, described as ‘central to everything good in Llandaff RFC’, a first aider, a man who prepares the pitches on match days, cleans the changing rooms and maintains the club’s headquarters, was chosen to lead the England squad at the Principality Stadium. For Wales, it all went downhill from there.