THE PROGRESS OF ATHLETISM.

THE PROGRESS OF ATHLETISM.BY C. TURNER.

BY C. TURNER.

Running Children

ATHLETISMis one of the distinctive forces of the nineteenth century, and of all the forces, acting upon the social, moral and physical life of the century, it is probably destined to be the most permanent in its effects. No impulse has had a swifter or a wider scope. While other forces of aggregation have welded together peoples having a common ethnological origin into a nation, such as Italy, and consolidated independent states into a system, such as Germany, it has been the function of athletics to unite in a common interest the whole (Anglo-Saxon) world. America and Australasia have felt its influence, and passed under its discipline, in no less degree than the scattered colonies and dependencies of “Greater Britain.” Remarkable as it may at first sound, it is true, that no fact to-day “flashed round the girdle of the globe” would excite so widespread a curiosity, or so much personal interest, as that an amateur athlete had succeeded in covering one hundred yards of space in one second less than the recorded time of the great classic contests of the century.

THE HURDLE RACE AT CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY.

THE HURDLE RACE AT CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY.

In the United Kingdom, Ministries may come and Ministries may go, Governments may wax and wane; such news will interest few but the inhabitants of Great Britain. In America contests of deep interest may rage round a Presidential Election and rend public opinion, but the very knowledge of the contest will be confined largely to the American continent. The fiercest controversies in science and religion may rise and subside, the whole current of ecclesiastical thought may change, whilst the “Tracts for the Times” will remain a mere phrase to the millions who are keenly alive to the more cosmopolitan questions involved in athletism. On the remote sheep-farms of Australia, in the cattle ranches of Texas, on the pampas of South America, amongst the snows of the Himalayas, round the kraal fires of Southern Africa and in the busy marts of China and Japan, there will be auditors who will gather with keener interest to hear of the battles of pluck and endurance by the Isis and the Cam than would be displayed about any contest for dominion among the powers of the world. In the island home of its birth, and the land of its most earnest adoption, no system of news, in its ingathering and dispersion, is so regular, systematic and universal, or so anxiously scanned as the sports of the Queen’s Club Grounds, or the progress of the baseball nines of New York, Boston or Chicago. It putsinto operation a system as perfect and as rapid as if the fate of nations hung in the balance.

WINNING THE HUNDRED YARDS.

WINNING THE HUNDRED YARDS.

Whence is all this? Partly, it may be, that the subject dealt with and the competitors involved touch the most abiding and deep-seated instincts of our common nature, carrying us back, by their very mention, to those halcyon days when we too marked the scudding form or joined in the thrilling race.

“Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise;We love the play-place of our early days,The scene is touching, and the heart is stoneThat feels not at that sight, and feels at none,”

“Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise;We love the play-place of our early days,The scene is touching, and the heart is stoneThat feels not at that sight, and feels at none,”

“Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise;We love the play-place of our early days,The scene is touching, and the heart is stoneThat feels not at that sight, and feels at none,”

“Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise;

We love the play-place of our early days,

The scene is touching, and the heart is stone

That feels not at that sight, and feels at none,”

sang one of our early English poets, and again:

“The pleasing spectacle at once excitesSuch recollections of our own delights,That, viewing it, we seem almost t’ obtainOur innocent, sweet simple years again.”

“The pleasing spectacle at once excitesSuch recollections of our own delights,That, viewing it, we seem almost t’ obtainOur innocent, sweet simple years again.”

“The pleasing spectacle at once excitesSuch recollections of our own delights,That, viewing it, we seem almost t’ obtainOur innocent, sweet simple years again.”

“The pleasing spectacle at once excites

Such recollections of our own delights,

That, viewing it, we seem almost t’ obtain

Our innocent, sweet simple years again.”

But how came the natural aptitude and expertness of the Saxon in outdoor sports to be so totally obliterated, as undoubtedly it was, up to within the past forty years? That England, above all, with her old Viking blood, should have lain torpid and effeminate; that that “hard gray weather,” which, as Kingsley says, “makes hard Englishmen,” should have become barren in results, is one of the most puzzling facts of a now happily remote past. It was not ever thus; the early poets teem with allusions to training and skill in manly sports and outdoor pastimes, but the records of the eighteenth century as surely point to their almost universal eclipse. Read Cowper’s “Timepiece,” written in 1783, and more especially his “Tirocinium; or, a Review of the Schools,” written in the following year. What a picture do they present! The tavern and the play-house, cards and the race-course, license and riot, fill the terrible picture of the youth of the period, the product of the school and college. Study languished, emulation slept, and virtue fled, is his uncontested verdict.

“See womanhood despised and manhood shamed,With infamy too nauseous to be named;Fops at all corners, ladylike in mien,Civeted fellows, smelt ere they are seen.Else coarse and rude in manners, and their tongueOn fire with curses and with nonsense hung,Now flush’d with drunkenness, now with excess pale,Their breath a sample of last night’s regale,Designed by nature wise, but self-made fools;All these, and more like these, were bred at schools.”

“See womanhood despised and manhood shamed,With infamy too nauseous to be named;Fops at all corners, ladylike in mien,Civeted fellows, smelt ere they are seen.Else coarse and rude in manners, and their tongueOn fire with curses and with nonsense hung,Now flush’d with drunkenness, now with excess pale,Their breath a sample of last night’s regale,Designed by nature wise, but self-made fools;All these, and more like these, were bred at schools.”

“See womanhood despised and manhood shamed,With infamy too nauseous to be named;Fops at all corners, ladylike in mien,Civeted fellows, smelt ere they are seen.Else coarse and rude in manners, and their tongueOn fire with curses and with nonsense hung,Now flush’d with drunkenness, now with excess pale,Their breath a sample of last night’s regale,Designed by nature wise, but self-made fools;All these, and more like these, were bred at schools.”

“See womanhood despised and manhood shamed,

With infamy too nauseous to be named;

Fops at all corners, ladylike in mien,

Civeted fellows, smelt ere they are seen.

Else coarse and rude in manners, and their tongue

On fire with curses and with nonsense hung,

Now flush’d with drunkenness, now with excess pale,

Their breath a sample of last night’s regale,

Designed by nature wise, but self-made fools;

All these, and more like these, were bred at schools.”

THE TRINITY HALL CREW, CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY⇒LARGER IMAGE

THE TRINITY HALL CREW, CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY

⇒LARGER IMAGE

It certainly is a picture which, thank God! could not be painted now. Norcould it be written of the well-to-do youth of the nation, as was written by South and quoted by Dr. Johnson in his Dictionary in illustration of the word “athletick”—“strong of body, vigorous, robust,” that “seldom shall we see in rich families that athletick soundness and vigor of constitution which is seen in cottages where nature is cook and necessity caterer.” The youth of “rich families” have now, happily become the very pink of the “strong of body, vigorous, robust,” and a practical refutation of such an opinion, in every English-speaking land.

WINNING THE HIGH JUMP.

WINNING THE HIGH JUMP.

It was fitting, though singular, that the revival of outdoor sports, which received its first check from the narrow fanaticism and repressive bitterness of the puritanical period, that saw Beelzebub in the quarter-staff and Satan in a foot-race, should have received its first impulse into new life largely from the disciples of “Muscular Christianity,” of whom Canon Kingsley may perhaps be taken as the type. Yet so it was; they fanned into life the embers in which still burnt the hidden fire, and rekindled the dormant passion for rural sports into more than its old vigor with a new purity and with a force which, ere half a century had passed, was to restore athletism to its legitimate sphere throughout the Anglo-Saxon world.

Many other things combined to help the movement. Not the least of these was the dawning belief that Juvenal’s oft quoted “mens sana in corpore sano,” contained a fallacy, and that the healthy body must precede and render possible the healthy mind. This doctrine, in “the forties,” was feebly struggling for recognition, but is now recognized as lying at the very root of social and moral regeneration. England’s danger in the period of the Crimean war, tended to turn the minds of men to the seriousness of our national position, and to the advantages of systematic training to resist hardship. The volunteer movement, with its platoon exercises and its outdoor drills, often on the old “Butts Green,” which the wisdom of our forefathers had provided for their day and generation, drew further marked attention to physical training. All this tended to create in the rising generation an inclination to return to our older, more natural, and more healthful custom of outdoor life.

Whatever were the causes, and whether this enumeration of them be either accurate or complete, certain it is that in the early “fifties” athletism took a new and marked departure. As was natural, that departure received its concrete form in the two ancient English universities “where students most do congregate.” In athletics it can with truth be said, “the boy is father of the man.”

For all the higher interests of athletism this was fortunate. In those two centres the young plant was at least in a soil with materials for its growth, and in an atmosphere where its grosser forms could scarce take root, and where that parasite, the professional blackleg, could certainly not develop. Thus it has transpired that those concomitant evils which at one time threatened even the existence of cricket have been kept from the field of amateur athletics. The watchful eye, the timely warning, the friendly aid of authority, which, without crushing, silently regulated the mode and conduct of these sports, has enabled them to spread a beneficent and not a corrupting influence. That there were evils, inherent, latent, and which might have become powerful, all will admit; that they were surely and deeply rooted and ineradicable was the fear of many; that they showed a tendency at first to develop is a matter of record, but that they no longer affect athletism, where it is conducted by gentlemen for gentlemen, is equally certain and satisfactory.

That the development of athletism, regulated and purified as it soon became, was a distinct advance on the antecedent pastimes is perfectly clear. Athletics soon obtained a recognition and a warm welcome from the public. Let those who are old enough cast back their minds thirty years and recall the scenes of brutality which filled the columns of public newspapers, the very existence of which is now almost forgotten. Turn even to theTimes, and it will be found that in that exclusive journal and great reflex of the age, “prize fighting” holds quite a significant space. But the work unostentatiously begun in the universities, and spreading to the schools, was preparing a public which would become interested in the more scientific development of the human frame for higher and nobler purposes.

To Oxford belongs the honor of initiation in the Athletic Club of Exeter College founded in 1850. Five years later the sister university followed Oxford’s example; but, as is her habit, though slower to the influence of innovation than Oxford, when once she has accepted an idea, she makes more rapid progress. St. John’s College led the van; Emmanuel, and one by one the rest, followed. So rapid, indeed, was the development, that within two years the whole of the seventeen colleges and halls were ready for a “federation,” and in 1857 the first intercollegiate sports were held. Three years after, Oxford, too, was ready for its extended sphere, its “United States” constitution.

Naturally, the existence of these two friendly yet rival corporations led to a trial of strength between them. Cambridge challenged Oxford to a friendly tournament, and in 1864 the first of those since famous meetings of the students of the two universities was held. Nothing can be more significant of the then position of athletism than the manner of its announcement. In an obscure corner of theTimes, crushed almost out by the more engrossing incidents of the German-Danish war and of the American Rebellion, still may be seen the two small lines announcing: “Athletic Games.—The athletic games between Oxford and Cambridge will take place on the 5th March at 12 o’clock.” But small as was the space, it was a clear indication that athletism had become a subject of national and not entirely of local interest. From this event may be measured all the subsequent career. “The events took place in Christ Church new cricket ground, in the presence of a vast number of persons, including many of the college authorities, and some hundreds of ladies, who took a very keen interest in the proceedings,” says theTimes. But even more interesting is the fact that at the baptism of these inter-university sports there should have been the sponsorship of official recognition. Of the two judges, one was the Rev. A. H. Faber, of New College, Oxford; the other was the Rev. H. Mortimer Luckock, of Trinity College, Cambridge (now Canon of Ely Cathedral), whilst the office of referee was filled by the Rev. Leslie Stephen. As Oxford “had gathered there her beauty and her chivalry” as spectators, so amongst the competitors were no mean representatives of the universities at their best. Oxford had her Gooch and Darbyshire, and Cambridge that very paragon of all graceful power, C. B. Lawes (who has since enriched sculpture by so much that is admirable in art). What son of Cambridge who saw Lawes isever likely to forget him? He was a sight for the gods!—a very athletic “Admirable Crichton.”

Emulation and imitation, that sincerest form of flattery, quickly produced followers; the flame which the universities had lit, raised to a beacon’s height by theTimes’reports, spread like a wildfire. Trinity College, Dublin, Eton College and Wellington, before the year was out, appeared in the lists, and were quickly followed by those nurseries of the universities, Harrow and Winchester, Rossall and Cheltenham, Westminster and Charterhouse, whilst Sandhurst and Chatham added to the list the military students, and the “United” Hospitals the students in medicine. Nor was the agitation confined to one side of the Atlantic, for within an extremely short period, the foundation of that now world-renowned association, the New York Athletic Club, was laid.

Is it to be wondered at that this sudden, simultaneous, and widespread movement should have raised grave apprehensions, and anxious, if not bitter, critics? The first warning voice was raised against the alleged existence of gambling and against the debasing influence of money as prizes. It is singular to remember, under present circumstances, the fact, which has almost passed from memory, that at the first inter-university sports the prizes were given in money. Nor was the friendly yet apprehensive critic alone in the field. Mr. Wilkie Collins, the novelist, with less knowledge and more animus, mixed gall and wormwood with his criticism and produced in his “Man and Wife” a caricatured monster so overdrawn as to be, fortunately, ineffective. Even so good an authority as Mr. Leslie Stephen was apparently ranged against the child of his adoption (for he was the first referee); but, as a matter of fact, he was merely tempted to use the athlete as a “bogey” to frighten “the characteristic doctrine out of the university Tory;” but having to invoke a “bogey” for his purpose he was compelled, by the exigencies of the case, to draw the university athlete in language more forcible than elegant. This having served its purpose, may now well be charitably consigned to oblivion. The Hon. Edward Lyttleton, following suit to Mr. Stephen, urged the aid of “variety in education” as a corrective to the engrossing attractions of the sports. The fears which haunted Mr. Lyttleton, and still find expression, were born of a too contracted view of the facts. To him, the enervating effect was its growing popularity. He saw the increasing multitudes flocking once a year to see the public exhibitions, in which but few students competed, and he forgot the thousands who plodded, day after day, month after month, through the weary details of practice, for the development of their frames, or in private contests.

Nor were the tutor, the schoolmaster and the novelist alone in their onslaughts; a far more dangerous attack came from certain medical men, of whom Dr. Richardson may be taken as the type. To them the athlete was a man doomed to a premature decay, a broken and exhausted wreck. Budding athletism had the good fortune to secure, in Dr. E. Morgan, of Manchester, a champion whose exhaustive labors and conclusive deductions from authentic facts, made short work of the adverse theory, and established, beyond future cavil or dispute, that the death rate amongst those who had passed the most trying ordeals was 30 per cent. lower than the national average.

The combination of assaults on lines like these, and the anxieties generated in maternal minds, led the university authorities to discourage the spirit of rivalry which, it was feared, the inter-university contests might develop to excess. Cambridge was staggered, in 1867, by an official prohibition against the Oxford and Cambridge sports taking place within the precincts of the university. No other step could so certainly have produced the very results which it was aimed to prevent. Driven from Cambridge, where the contests might long have continued comparatively subordinate, under the immediate guardianship of the official eye, they were forced into the extended, and by no means preferable, area of the London world, of which they have since formed an important annual fixture.

Athletism rose triumphant over these as over the many other difficulties and dangers which surrounded its early path. The varying “uses” of distant and conflicting schools were reconciled, the barnacles of corruption cleared off, and the authority firmly established of that great central governing body the Amateur Athletic Association.

Cambridge, which by its early example did so much to popularize athletics, has had a long succession of faithful, loyal and patriotic sons to carry her colors through many a hard-won fight and many a stubborn fray. Who that has seen her careerthrough the past quarter of a century cannot recall, with all the glow of rekindled satisfaction, her champions, from the day, in 1865, when R. E. Webster (now the learned attorney-general) twice lowered Oxford’s colors by defeating the Earl of Jersey for the mile in 4m. 441⁄4s. (on a slow, wet ground) and for the two miles in 10m. 381⁄2s. down to W. C. Kendall’s exciting “odd event” jump this spring? Between these dates what memories crowd the scene! Pitman and Ridley, Churchill and R. H. Macaulay (now head-master of Rugby), who covered the quarter of a mile in 1881 in 50 1-5s.; I. L. Stirling, “three stride Stirling,” of 1870, over his 120 yards and 10 flights; A. B. Loder, who, in 1876, plucked the honors from Upcher, the very classic of the hurdlers, in 16s.; S. Palmer, lithe as a leopard, who, in 1883, carried the “light blue” through in the same time; phenomenal E. J. Davies, short and spare of build, who, with his second thrust in midair, covered 22 ft. 10 in. in the broad jump; F. B. Roberts, who, in 1886, covered 21 ft. 9 in., and W. C. Kendall’s winning jump of 1888; W. W. Hough, lean and light of foot, who put the three miles behind him in 15m. 1 1-5s.; the mighty hammer throws of G. H. Hales, in 1876, 138 ft. 3 in. and E. O’F. Kelly putting the weight—these and hundreds more flit across the mind.

And who that has seen thirty generations—for each year brings its new generation—of under-graduates “strip” can have failed to recognize a distinct, general improvement in the average physique, in build, in carriage, and even in the quality and condition of the flesh. It is undoubted and palpable even to the casual eye, and it has, singularly enough, within the past few months, received confirmation from an authority anything but casual. Dr. Sargent, of Harvard, in his “Physical Proportions of the Typical Man,” has proved with mathematical accuracy and from reliable and exhaustive measurements, that “man cultivated both in mind and body along the lines of least resistance shows that the tendency of the race is to attain the perfect type, the order of growth is regular towards it.” Nor is it necessary at this day to elaborate the point that this physical advance is not only no injury to, not only compatible with, but a promoter of moral and spiritual benefits, as well as a direct aid to withstanding the wear and tear of modern business. The Universities’ missions to South Africa and China, abroad, Toynbee Hall, the White Cross Society, and other like efforts at home, are a standing testimony on the one hand, while on the other the presence “thick as autumn leaves in Vallombrosa” of old-time champions in the high offices of state and in every walk of science, art, enterprise and commercial life, is a ready and complete answer.

An author, whose modesty conceals his name, but whose good sense justifies the quotation, has well summed up the situation. “Athletism may not have crowned all its votaries with the laurels of social heroism, but it has disseminated a thoroughly healthy and energizing taste among our young men. It has taken them away from the smoking and the billiard rooms at unreasonable hours and stamped out that physical and moral malady, which was once powerfully described by the author of ‘David Copperfield’ as the ‘dry-rot in men.’”

In her physical training of the youth of the nation, those “trustees for posterity,” may its motto long express the universal verdict “Floreat Cantabrigia.”

COMPARATIVETABLE OFAMATEURS’ RECORDS.

10½s.

10 4-5s.

10s.

10s.

10s.

10s.

17½s.

17 1-5s.

16s.

16 1-5s.

16s.

53s.

51 2-5s.

49 4-5s.

47¾s.

50 1-5s.

1m. 59s.

2m.

1m. 46 2-5s.

4m. 56s.

4m. 29 2-5s.

4m. 25 2-5.

4m. 30s.

4m. 36 4-5s.

4m. 25 3-5s.

9m. 38s.

10m. 7s.

15m 28 1-5s.

14m. 50 3-5s.

15m 1 1-5s.

5 ft. 5 in.

5 ft. 10¼ in.

5 ft. 11 in.

5 ft. 10½ in.

18 ft. 0 in.

20 ft. 10¾ in.

21 ft. 7½ in.

22 ft. 10¾ in.

37 ft.

44 ft. 9½ in.

39 ft. 1 in.

93 ft. 10 in.

119 ft. 0 in.

138 ft. 3 in.


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