We must, however, admit that it seems less likely there will be anything like a display of Leonids to-night than that patient observers may be able to identify a few of these bodies, and thus—though by observations of a less attractive kind—to advance our knowledge of this interesting system. Far more likely is it that towards the end of the month there will be a display of meteors belonging to another and an entirely distinct family, a family scarcely less worthy to be called November meteorspar excellence, but actually rejoicing in the classically unsatisfactory name of Andromeds.
EXPECTED METEOR SHOWER.
(From theTimesof November 25, 1878.)
It is probable that during the next three nights some light may be thrown on one of the most perplexing yet most interesting of all the problems recently suggested to the study of astronomers. It is confidently expected that many of those November meteors called Andromeds will be seen on one or other of those nights, if not on all three. No meteor systems, not even the famous systems of August and November, are more remarkable than this singular family. To explain why astronomers regard the Andromeds with so much interest, it will be necessary to speak of an object which at first sight seems in no way connected with them—an object, in fact, which, so long as it was actually known to astronomers, was never supposed to be connected with any family of meteors—the celebrated lost comet called Biela's (or, by Frenchmen, Gambart's comet). In February, 1826, Biela discovered in the constellation Aries a comet which was found to be travelling in an oval path round the sun, in a period of about six years seven and a half months. Tracing its course backwards, astronomers found that it had been seen in 1772 by Montaigne, and observed for two or three weeks in that year by Messier, the great comet hunter. Nothing very remarkable was recognised regarding this comet in 1826, except the fact that its path nearly intersects that of our own earth; so that if ever the earth is to encounter a comet, here seemed to be the comet she had to fear. Great terror was, indeed, excited by the announcement that in 1832 the comet would cross the earth's track only four orfive weeks before the earth came to the place of danger. But no harm happened. In that year, and again in 1839, the comet returned quietly enough, though in 1839 it was not observed, being so placed that it was lost in the splendour of the solar rays. In February, 1846, the comet was again seen, this being the third return since its discovery in 1826, or rather, since its recognition as a member of the solar system, the eleventh since it was first seen by Montaigne. At this time everything seemed to suggest that this comet, unless our earth at some future time should absorb it, would remain for a long time a steady member of the sun's comet family. But only a few days after its detection in February, 1846, the comet was found to have divided into two, which travelled side by side until both vanished from view with increasing distance. In 1852 the companion comets reappeared, and again both continued in view till their motion carried them beyond telescopic range. As the distance between the coupled comets had increased from about 160,000 miles in 1846 to about 1,250,000 miles in 1852, astronomers anticipated a most interesting series of observations at the successive returns of the double comet to the earth's neighbourhood. Unfortunately, in 1859 the comet's course carried it athwart a part of the sky illuminated by the sun's rays, so that astronomers could not then expect to see it. But in 1866 it was looked for hopefully. Its orbit had now been most carefully computed, and many observers, armed with excellent telescopes, were on the watch for it, with very accurate knowledge of the course along which it might be expected to travel, and even of its position from day to day and from hour to hour. But it was not seen. Nor, again, was it seen in 1872, when fresh computations had been made, and observations were extended over a wider range, to make sure, as was hopefully thought, that this time it should not escape recognition. Could it have come, asked Herschel in 1866—and in 1872 the same question might still more pertinently be asked—into contact or exceedingly close approach to some asteroid as yet undiscovered? or, peradventure, hadit plunged into and got bewildered among the rings of meteorolites, which astronomers more than suspected?
Between 1866, when Sir John Herschel thus wrote, and 1872, when again Biela's comet was sought in vain, a series of strange discoveries had been made respecting meteors, which led astronomers to believe that, even though the missing comet might never again be seen as a comet, we might still learn something respecting its present condition. It had been noticed that the remarkable comet of 1862 (comet 11 of that year) crossed the earth's track near the place where she is on August 10-11, the time of the August meteors, called the Tears of St. Lawrence in old times, but now known as the Perseids, because they seem to radiate from the constellation Perseus. Later the idea occurred to Schiaparelli, an Italian astronomer, that the August meteors may travel along the path of that comet. He could not prove this, but he advanced very strong evidence in favour of the opinion, for he found that bodies travelling along the path of the comet of 1862 would seem to radiate from Perseus as they traversed the earth's atmosphere. It was as if a person suspected that a steam-cloud seen on a distant railway track belonged to a particular train, and, though unable actually to prove this, was yet able to show that, with the wind and weather then prevailing, that train, travelling at its customary rate, would leave a steam-cloud behind it precisely of the apparent length and position of the observed steam-cloud. This cloud might have the observed position though otherwise produced, yet the evidence would be thought strongly to favour the supposition that it came from the train in question. In like manner the August meteors might be travelling on any one of a great number of tracks intersecting the earth's orbit in the place occupied by the earth on August 10-11; yet it was at least a striking coincidence that a flight of meteors travelling in the orbit of the chief comet of 1862 would seem to radiate from the constellation Perseus, precisely as the August meteors do.
While astronomers were still discussing the ideas of Schiaparelli, Professor Newton of Yale College, in America,called their attention to the great display of November meteors which might be expected on November 13-14, 1866. The fine shower of that year was well observed, and the part—we may almost say the point—of the constellation Leo from which the meteors radiated was correctly determined. And now a strange thing happened. Those who believed in Schiaparelli's account of the August meteors supposed of necessity that the bodies forming that system travel in an orbit of enormous extent, for the comet of 1862 travels on a path extending much further from the sun than the path of Neptune. There was, therefore, nothing to prevent them from believing that the Leonides travel in a track carrying them far away from the sun. The recurrence of great displays of these meteors at intervals of about 33 years might be readily explained on such an assumption, for if the Leonides have a period of about 33 years, their path must extend far beyond the path of Uranus. But hitherto astronomers had not been ready to admit such an explanation of the periodic recurrence of great displays of the November meteors. They preferred theories (for several were available) which accounted for the 33-year period, while assigning to the Leonides paths of much less extent. Now that the idea of vast meteoric orbits had been fairly broached, some astronomers thought it might at least be worth while to calculate the path of the November meteors on the assumption that their true period is about 33¼ years. This was perfectly easy, because the period of a body travelling round the sun determines the velocity at any given distance from the sun, and knowing thus (at least, on this assumption) the true velocity of the Leonides as they rush into our air, while their apparent path is known, their true course is as readily determined as the true course of the wind can be determined by a seaman from the apparent direction and velocity with which it reaches his ship. When the path of the November meteors had been determined (on the assumption mentioned), it was found to be identical with the path of a comet which had only beendiscovered a few months before-the comet called Tempel's. That a comet which is invisible to the naked eye should have been discovered in the very year when first astronomers made exact observations of the meteors which travel in its track—for it will presently be seen that the assumption above mentioned was a just one—cannot but be regarded as a very singular coincidence. It was a most fortunate coincidence for astronomers, since there can be but little doubt that but for it Schiaparelli's theory would very soon have been forgotten. As that theory was itself suggested by the fortuitous recognition of another comet (only visible at intervals of more than a century) at a time when attention had been specially directed to the August meteors, it may fairly be said that the theory which now associates meteors and comets in the most unmistakable manner was suggested by one accident and confirmed by another. Albeit such accidents happen only to the zealous student of nature's secrets. We shall presently see that the fortunate detection of Tempel's comet in 1866 was not the last of the series of coincidences by which the theory of meteors was established.
Although the evidence favouring Schiaparelli's theory was now strong, yet it was well that at this stage still more convincing evidence was forthcoming. The date of the November display has changed since the Leonides were first recognised, in such sort as to show that the position of their path has changed. The change is due to the disturbing attractions of the planets. It occurred to our great astronomer Adams, discoverer with Leverrier of distant Neptune, to inquire whether the observed change accorded with the calculated effects of planetary attraction, if the Leonides are supposed to travel in any of the smaller paths suggested by astronomers, or could be explained only by the assumption that the meteors travel on the widely-extending path corresponding to the 33¼ years period. The problem was worthy of his powers—in other words, it was a problem of exceeding difficulty. By solving it, Adamsmade that certain which Schiaparelli and his followers had merely assumed. He showed beyond all possibility of doubt or question that of all the paths by which the periodic meteoric displays could be accounted for, the wide path carrying the November meteors far beyond the track of Uranus was the only one which accorded with the observed effects of planetary perturbation.
It was in the confidence resulting from this masterly achievement that in 1872 some astronomers (among them Professor Alex. Herschel, one of Sir J. Herschel's sons) announced the probable occurrence of a display of meteors when the earth crossed the track of Biela's missing comet. An occurrence of this sort was alone wanting to complete the evidence for the meteoric theory. It had been found that the August Perseids move as if they followed in the track of a known comet; the path of the November Leonides had been shown to be identical with that of another comet; if astronomers could predict the appearance of meteors at the time when the earth should pass through the track of a known comet, even those who could not appreciate the force of the mathematical evidence for the new theory would be convinced by the meteoric display. Possibly such observers would have been satisfied with a meteor shower which would not have contented astronomers. The display must have special characteristics to satisfy scientific observers. The path of a body following Biela's comet being known, and its exact rate of motion, the direction in which it must enter our earth's atmosphere (if at all) is determined. Calculation showed this direction to be such that every meteor would appear to travel directly from the constellation Andromeda,—from a point near the feet of the Chained Lady. A meteor might appear in any part of the sky, but its course must be directed from that point, otherwise it could not possibly be travelling in the track of Biela's comet.
The event corresponded exactly with the anticipations of astronomers. On the evening of November 27, 1872, manythousands of small meteors were seen. In England between 40,000 and 50,000 were counted. In Italy the meteors were so numerous that at one time there seemed to be a cloud of light around the region near the feet of Andromeda whence all the meteor-tracks seemed to radiate. The meteors were unmistakably travelling on the track of Biela's comet. They overtook the earth on a path slanting downwards somewhat from the north—precisely in the direction in which Biela's comet would itself have descended upon the earth if at any time the earth had chanced to reach the part of her path crossed by the comet's when the comet was passing that way.
Strangely enough, a German astronomer, Klinkerfues, seems to have regarded the meteoric display of November 27, 1872, as an actual visit from Biela's comet. He telegraphed to Pogson, Government Astronomer at Madras, 'Biela touched earth on November 27, look out for it near Theta Centauri;' which, being interpreted, means, Biela's comet then grazed the earth, coming from the feet of Andromeda, look for it where it is travelling onwards in the opposite direction—that is towards the shoulder of the Centaur. As Biela's comet had in reality passed that way twelve weeks earlier, the instructions of Klinkerfues were somewhat wide of the mark. However, Pogson followed them, and near the spot indicated he saw two faint cloud-like objects, slowly moving athwart the heavens. These he supposed to be the two comets into which the missing comet had divided. It so happens, strangely enough, that these objects, though moving parallel to the track of the missing comets, were neither those comets themselves, nor the meteor flight through which the earth had passed a few hours before. They were probably somewhat richer meteor clouds, fragments (like the cloud through which our earth had passed) of this most mysterious of all known comets.
To-night, or perhaps to-morrow or next night (for the position of the meteor flights is not certainly known) we shall probably see meteors travelling in advance of the main body.For the earth passes during the next three days across the orbit of Biela's comet, about as far in front of the head as she passed behind the head in 1872. Now, there is no known reason for supposing (onà priorigrounds) that meteors get strewn behind a comet's nucleus more readily than in front of it. The disturbing forces which would tend to delay some meteoric attendants would be balanced by forces which would tend to hasten others. As a matter of fact it would seem that the meteor flights which follow a comet's nucleus are commonly denser than those which precede the nucleus. Yet in 1865 many thousands of Leonides were seen which were in advance of the main body forming the comet of 1866. In 1859, 1860, and 1861, many Perseids were seen, which were in advance of the comet of 1862. So that we might fairly expect to see a great number of Andromeds to-night (or on the following nights) even if we had none but the probabilities thus suggested to guide us. But since many were seen on November 27 last, when the head of the comet, now some four months' journey from us, was a whole year's journey further away, it seems probable that on the present occasion a display well worth observing will be seen should fine weather prevail. It will be specially interesting to astronomers, as showing how meteors are strewn in front of a comet. How meteors are strewn behind a comet we already know tolerably well from observations made on the Perseids since 1862 and on the Leonides since 1865.
COLD WINTERS.
During the cold weather of last December (1878) we heard much about old-fashioned winters. It was generally assumed that some thirty or forty years ago the winters were colder than they now are. Some began to speculate on the probability that we may be about to have a cycle of cold winters, continuing perhaps for thirty or forty years, as the cycle of mild winters is commonly supposed to have done. If any doubts were expressed as to the greater severity of winter weather thirty or forty years ago, evidence was forthcoming to show that at that time our smaller rivers were commonly frozen over during the winter, and the larger rivers always encumbered with masses of ice, and not unfrequently frozen from source to estuary. Skating was spoken of as a half-forgotten pastime in these days, as compared with what it was when the seniors of our time were lads. Nor were dismal stories wanting of villages snowed up for months, of men and women who had been lost amid snowdrifts, and of other troubles such as we now associate rather with Siberian than with British winters.
Turning over recently the volume of the 'Penny Magazine' for the year 1837, I came across a passage which shows that these ideas about winter weather forty years ago were entertained forty years ago about winter weather eighty or ninety years ago. It occurs in an article on the 'Peculiarities of the Climate of Canada and the United States.' Discussing the theory whether the clearing away of forests has any influence in mitigating the severity of winter weather, thewriter of the article says, 'Many persons assert, and I believe with some degree of accuracy, that the seasons in Europe, and in our own island particularly, have undergone a remarkable change within the memory of many persons now living; and if such really be the case, how few attempts have been made to account for this change, since no great natural phenomenon, like that of clearing away millions of acres of forest timber, and thereby exposing the cold and moist soil to the action of the sun's rays, has recently taken place here; so that if the climate of Great Britain has actually undergone a change, the cause, whatever that may be, must be of a different nature from that generally supposed to affect the climate of North America.' It must be explained that, though in this passage the writer does not speak of a diminution in the severity of the winters, it is a change of that sort that he is really referring to. He had said, a few lines before, that 'some of the older inhabitants of North America will declare to you that the winters are much less severe "now" than they were forty or fifty years ago,' and in the passage quoted he is discussing the possibility of a similar change in Europe, where, however, as he points out, the cause assigned to the supposed change in America has certainly no existence. Since 1830, by the way, the theory has been advanced that the supposed mildness of recent winters may have been caused by the large increase in the consumption of coal, owing to the use of steam machinery, gas for lighting purposes, and so forth.
I believe it will be found on careful inquiry that the change for which forty years ago men sought a cause in vain, and for which at present they assign a perfectly inadequate cause, has had no real existence. The study of meteorological records gives no valid support to the theory of change. Nor is it difficult to understand how the idea that there has been a change has arisen from the changed conditions under which men in middle life, as compared with children, observe or feel the effects of milder weather. A child gives no heed to mild winters. They pass, like ordinaryspring or autumn days, unnoted and unremembered. But a bitter winter, or even a spell of bitter weather such as is felt almost every year, is remembered. Even though it lasts but for a short time, it produces as much effect on the childish imagination as a long and bitter winter produces on the minds of grown folk. Looking back at the days of childhood, the middle-aged man or woman recalls what seems like a series of bitter winters, because recalling many occasions when, during what seemed a long time, the snow lay deep, the waters were frozen, and the outdoor air was shrewd and biting.
Before considering some of the remarkable winters which during the last century have been experienced in Great Britain and in Europe generally, I would discuss briefly the evidence on which I base the belief that the winter weather of Europe, and of Great Britain especially, has undergone no noteworthy change during the last century.
If there is any validity in the theory at present in vogue that our winters are milder now than they were forty or fifty years ago, and the theory in vogue as we have seen forty years ago that the winters then were milder than they had been forty or fifty years earlier, it is manifest that there ought to be a very remarkable contrast between our present winter weather and that which was commonly experienced eighty or ninety years since. Now, it so chances that we possess a record of the weather from 1768 to 1792, by a very competent observer—Gilbert White of Selborne—which serves to show what weather prevailed generally during that interval; while the same writer has described at length, in his own happy and effective manner, some of the winters which were specially remarkable for severity. Let us see whether the winters during the last third of the eighteenth century were so much more bitter or long-lasting than those now experienced as common ideas on the subject would suggest.
In 1768, the year began with a fortnight's frost and snow. The cold was very severe, as will presently be more particularly noted. Thereafter wet and rainy weather prevailed tothe end of February. The winter of 1768-69 was marked throughout by alternations of rain and frost; thus from the middle of November to the end of 1768 there were 'alternate rains and frosts;' in January and February, 1769, the weather was 'frosty and rainy, with gleams of fine weather in the intervals; then to the middle of March, wind and rain.' The last half of November, 1769, was dry and frosty, December windy, with rain and intervals of frost, and the first fortnight very foggy; the first fortnight of January, 1770, frosty, but on the 14th and 15th all the snow melted and to the end of February mild hazy weather prevailed; March was frosty and bright. From the middle of October, 1770, to the end of the year, there were almost incessant rains; then severe frosts till the last week of January, 1771, after which rain and snow prevailed for a fortnight, followed by spring weather till the end of February. March and April were frosty. The spring of 1771 was so exceptionally severe in the Isle of Skye that it was called the Black Spring; in the south also it was severe. November, 1771, frost with intervals of fog and rain; December, mild and bright weather with hoar frosts; January and the first week of February, 1772, frost and snow; thence to the end of the first fortnight in March, frost, sleet, rain, and snow.
The winter of 1772-73 would fairly compare with the mildest in recent years, except for one fortnight of hard frost in February, 1773. For from the end of September to December 22 there were rain and mild weather—the first ice on December 23—but thence to the end of the month foggy weather. The first week in January, frost, but the rest of the month dark rainy weather; and after the fortnight of hard frost in February, misty showery weather to the end of the first week in March, and bright spring days till April.
There were four weeks of frost after the end of the first fortnight in November, 1773, then rain to the end of the year, and rain and frost alternately to the middle of March, 1774.
In 1774-1775 there seems to have been no winter at allworth mentioning. From August 24 to the end of the third week in November there was rain, with frequent intervals of sunny weather. Then to the end of December, dark dripping fogs. January, February, and the first half of March, 1775, rain almost every day; and to the end of the first week in April, cold winds, with showers of rain and snow.
The end of the year 1775 was rainy, with intervals of hoar frost and sunshine. Dark frosty weather prevailed during the first three weeks of January, 1776, with much snow. Afterwards foggy weather and hoar frost. The cold of January, 1776, was remarkable, and will presently be more fully described.
November and December, 1776, were dry and frosty, with some days of hard rain. Then to January 10, 1777, hard frost; to the 20th foggy with frequent showers; and to February 18, hard dry frost with snow, followed by heavy rains, with intervals of warm dry spring weather to the end of May.
The winter of 1777-78 was another which resembled closely enough those winters which many suppose to be peculiar to recent years. The autumn weather to October 12 had been remarkably fine and warm. From then to the end of the year, grey mild weather prevailed, with but little rain and still less frost. During the first thirteen days of January there was frost with a little snow; then rain to January 24, followed by six days of hard frost. After this, harsh foggy weather with rain prevailed till February 23; then five days of frost; a fortnight of dark harsh weather; and spring weather to the end of the first fortnight in April. The second fortnight of April, however, was cold, with snow and frost.
Similarly varied in character was the winter of 1778-79. From the end of September, 1778, to the end of the year the weather was wet, with considerable intervals of sunshine. January, 1779, was characterised by alternations of frostand showers. After this, to April 21, warm dry weather prevailed.
The winter of 1779-80 was rather more severe. During October and November the weather was fine with intervals of rain. December rainy, with frost and snow occasionally. January 1780, frosty. During February dark harsh weather prevailed, with frequent intervals of frost. March was characterised by warm, showery, spring weather.
November and December, 1781, were warm and rainy; and the same mild open weather prevailed till February 4. Then followed eighteen days of hard frost, after which to the end of March the weather was cold and windy, with frost, snow, and rain. Thus the first two-thirds of the winter of 1781-82 were exceptionally mild, while the last third was cold and bleak.
In November, 1782, we find for the first time in these records an instance of early and long-continued cold. 'November began with a hard frost, and continued throughout, with alternate frost and thaw. The first part of December frosty.' The latter half of December, however, and the first sixteen days of January were mild, with much rain and wind. Then came a week of hard frost, followed by stormy dripping weather to the end of February. Thence to May 9, cold harsh winds prevailed. On May 5 there was thick ice.
The next two winters were, on the whole, the severest of the entire series recorded by Gilbert White, though at no time in the winter of 1783-84 was the cold greater than has often been experienced in this country. White's record runs thus: From September 23 to November 12, dry mild weather. To December 18, grey soft weather with a few showers. Thence to February 19, 1784, hard frost, with two thaws, one on January 14, the other on February 5. To February 28, mild wet fogs. To March 3, frost with ice. To March 10, sleet and snow. To April 2, snow with hard frost.
The winter of 1784-85 was remarkable for the exceedingly severe cold of December, 1784, which will presently be referred to more particularly. From November 6 to the end of the year 1784, fog, rain, and hard frost alternated, the frost continuing longest and being severest in December. On January 2 a thaw began, and rainy weather with wind continued to January 28. Thence to March 15 hard frost; to March 21 mild weather with sprinkling showers; to April 7 hard frost.
After rainy weather till December 23, 1786, came frost and snow till January 7, 1787. Then a week of mild and very rainy weather, followed by a week of heavy snow. From January 21 to February 11, mild weather with frequent rains; to February 21 dry weather with high winds; and to March 10, hard frost. Then alternate rains and frosts to April 13.
Early in November, 1786, there was frost, but thence to December 16 rain with only 'a few detached days of frost.' After a fortnight of frost and snow, came 24 days of dark, moist, mild weather. Then four days (from January 24 to January 28, 1787) of frost and snow; after which mild showery weather to February 16, dry cool weather to February 28, stormy and rainy weather to March 10. The next fortnight bright and frosty; then mild rainy weather to the end of April.
November, 1787, was mild till the 23rd, the last week frosty. The first three weeks of December still and mild, with rain, the last week frosty. The first thirteen days of January mild and wet; then five days of frost, followed by dry, windy weather. February frosty, but with frequent showers. The first half of March hard frost, the rest dark harsh weather with much rain.
The winter of 1788-89 was very severe, hard frost continuing from November 22, 1788, to January 13, 1789. The rest of January was mild with showers. February rainy, with snow showers and heavy gales of wind. The first thirteen days of March hard frost, with snow, and thentill April 18, heavy rain, with frost, snow, and sleet. This winter was very severe also on the Continent.
The winter of 1789-90 was as mild as that of 1788-89 had been severe. The record runs thus:—'November to 17th, heavy rains with violent gales of wind. To December 18, mild dry weather with a few showers. To the end of the year rain and wind. To January 16, 1790, mild foggy weather, with occasional rains. To January 21' (five days only) 'frost. To January 28, dark, with driving rains. To February 14, mild dry weather. To February 22' (eight days) 'hard frost.' To April 5 bright cold weather with a few showers.
In November, 1790, mild autumnal weather prevailed till the 26th, after which there were five days of hard frost. Thence to the end of the year, rain and snow, with a few days of frost. The whole of January, 1791, was mild with heavy rains; February windy, with much rain and snow. Then to the end of April dry, but 'rather cold and frosty.'
November, 1791, was very wet and stormy, December frosty. There was some hard frost in January, 1792, but the weather mostly wet and mild. In February also there was some hard frost and a little snow. March was wet and cold.
The record ends with the year 1792, the last three months of which are thus described: 'October showery and mild. November dry and fine. December mild.'
Certainly the account of the 23 years between 1768 and 1792 does not suggest that there is any material difference between the winter weather now common and the average winter weather a century ago. Still it may be necessary to show, that when men spoke of mild weather in old times, they meant what we should understand by the same expression. A reference to rain or showery weather shows sufficiently that a temperature above the freezing point existed while such weather prevailed. But it might be that what White speaks of as mild weather, is such as we should consider severe. In order to show that this is not the case, itwill suffice to examine his statement respecting the actual temperature in particular winters, considering them always with due reference to what he says as to their exceptional character.
Take for instance his account of the frost in January, 1768. He says that, for the short time it lasted, this frost 'was the most severe that we had then known for many years, and was remarkably injurious to evergreens.' 'The coincidents attending this short but intense frost,' he proceeds, after describing his vegetable losses, 'were, that the horses fell sick with an epidemic distemper, which injured the winds of many and killed some; that colds and coughs were general among the human species; that it froze under people's beds for several nights; that meat was so hard frozen that it could not be spitted, and could not be secured but in cellars, &c.' On the 3rd of January a thermometer within doors, in a close parlour, where there was no fire, fell in the night to 20; on the 4th to 18; and on the 7th to 17½ degrees, 'a degree of cold which the owner never since saw in the same situation.' The evidence from the thermometer is unsatisfactory, because we do not know how the parlour was situated. But there is reason for supposing that in the bitterest winters known during the last thirty or forty years, a greater degree of cold than that of January, 1768, has been experienced in England.
The frost of January, 1776, was also regarded as remarkable, and an account of it will therefore enable us to judge what was the ordinary winter weather of the last century.
In the first place, White notices that 'the first week of January, 1776, was very wet, and drowned with vast rains from every quarter; from whence may be inferred, as there is great reason to believe is the case, that intense frosts seldom take place till the earth is perfectly glutted and chilled with water; and hence dry autumns are seldom followed by rigorous winters.' On the 14th, after a week of frost, sleet, and snow, which after the 12th 'overwhelmed all the works of men, drifting over the tops of gates, andfilling the hollow lanes,' White had occasion to be much abroad. He thought he had never before or since encountered such rugged Siberian weather. 'Many of the narrow roads were now filled above the tops of the hedges, through which the snow was driven into most romantic and grotesque shapes, so striking to the imagination as not to be seen without wonder and pleasure. The poultry dared not to stir out of their roosting places: for cocks and hens are so dazzled and confounded by the glare of snow, that they would soon perish without assistance. The hares also lay sullenly in their seats, and would not move till compelled by hunger: being conscious, poor animals, that the drifts and heaps treacherously betray their footsteps and prove fatal to many of them.' From the 14th the snow continued to increase, and began to stop the road-wagons and coaches, which could no longer keep their regular stages; and especially on the Western roads. 'The company at Bath that wanted to attend the Queen's birthday were strangely incommoded; many carriages of persons who got on their way to town from Bath, as far as Marlborough, after strange embarrassments, here met with ane plus ultra. The ladies fretted, and offered large rewards to labourers, if they would shovel them a road to London; but the relentless heaps of snow were too bulky to be removed; and so the 18th passed over, leaving the company in very uncomfortable circumstances, at the Castle and other inns.'
Yet all this time and till the 21st the cold was not so intense as it was in December 1878. On the 21st the thermometer showed 20 degrees, and had it not been for the deep snows, the winter would not have been very severely felt. On the 22nd, the author had occasion to go to London 'through a sort of Laplandian scene, very wild and grotesque indeed.' But London exhibited an even stranger appearance than the country. 'Being bedded deep in snow, the pavement of the streets could not be touched by the wheels or the horses' feet, so that the carriages ran almost without the least noise.' 'Such an exemption from din and clatter,' says White, 'wasstrange but not pleasant; it seemed to convey an uncomfortable idea of desolation:
Ipsa silentia terrent.
'The worst had not yet, however, been reached. On the 27th much snow fell all day, and in the evening the frost became very intense. At South Lambeth, for the four following nights, the thermometer fell to eleven, seven, six, six; and at Selborne to seven, six, ten; and on the 31st, just before sunrise, with rime on the trees and on the tube of the glass, the quicksilver sank exactly to zero—a most unusual degree of cold this for the South of England.' During these four nights, the cold was so penetrating that ice formed under beds; and in the day the wind was so keen, that persons of robust constitutions could hardly endure to face it. 'The Thames was at once frozen over, both above and below bridge, that crowds ran about on the ice. The streets were now strangely encumbered with snow, which crumbled and trod dusty; and turning gray, resembled bay salt; what had fallen on the roofs was so perfectly dry that from first to last it lay twenty-six days on the houses in the city;a longer time than had been remembered by the oldest housekeepers living.'
According to all appearances rigorous weather might now have been expected for weeks to come, since every night increased in severity. 'But behold,' says White, 'without any apparent cause, on February 1, a thaw took place, and some rain followed before night, making good the observation that frosts often go off as it were at once without any gradual declension of cold. On February 2 the thaw persisted, and on the 3rd swarms of little insects were frisking and sporting in a court-yard at South Lambeth, as if they had felt no frost. Why the juices in the small bodies and smaller limbs of such minute beings are not frozen, is a matter of curious inquiry.'
Although it is manifest that the weather of January, 1776, was severe, yet the remarks italicised show that such weatherwas regarded a century ago as altogether exceptional. Again, the cold lasted only about three weeks. And it may be doubted whether in actual intensity it even equalled that which was experienced in London and the south of England generally during the first week of 1855. Certainly the evidence afforded by such remarks as I have italicised in the above-quoted passage tends more to prove that winter weather in England a hundred years hence was on the average much like winter at present, than the unusual severity of the weather during about twenty-four days in January, 1776, tends to suggest that a marked change has taken place.
Similar evidence is afforded by White's remarks respecting the severe cold of December, 1784.
As in January, 1776, so in December, 1784—a week of very wet weather heralded the approach of severe cold. 'The first week of December,' says White, 'was very wet, with the barometer very low. On the 7th, with the barometer at 28.5, came on a vast snow, which continued all that day and the next, and most part of the following night: so that by the morning of the 9th the works of men were quite overwhelmed' (there is something quite Homeric in White's use of this favourite expression), 'the lanes filled so as to be impassable, and the ground covered twelve or fifteen inches without any drifting. In the evening of the 9th the air began to be so very sharp that we thought it would be curious to attend to the motions of a thermometer; we therefore hung out two, one made by Martin and one by Dolland' (probably Dollond), 'which soon began to show us what we were to expect; for by ten o'clock they fell to twenty-one, and at eleven to four, when we went to bed. On the 10th in the morning the quicksilver of Dolland's glass was down to half a degree below zero and that of Martin's, which was absurdly graduated only to four degrees above zero, sunk quite into the brass guard of the ball, so that, when the weather became most interesting, this was useless. On the 10th, at eleven at night, though the air wasperfectly still, Dolland's glass went down to one degree below zero! This strange severity of the weather made me very desirous to know what degree of cold there might be in such an exalted and near situation as Newton. We had, therefore, on the morning of the 10th, written to Mr. ----, and entreated him to hang out his thermometer, made by Adams, and to pay some attention to it, morning and evening, expecting wonderful phenomena in so elevated a region, at two hundred feet or more above my house. But, behold! on the 10th, at eleven at night, it was down only to seventeen, and the next morning at twenty-two, when mine was at ten! We were so disturbed at this unexpected reverse of comparative cold that we sent one of my glasses up, thinking that of Mr. —— must somehow be wrongly constructed. But when the instruments came to be confronted they went exactly together, so that for one night at least the cold at Newton was eighteen degrees less than at Selborne, and through the whole frost ten or twelve degrees; and indeed, when we came to observe consequences, we could readily credit this, for all my laurustines, bays, ilexes, arbutuses, cypresses, and even my Portugal laurels—and, which occasions more regret, my fine sloping laurel hedge—were scorched up, while at Newton the same trees have not lost a leaf....' One circumstance noted by White, though not bearing specially on the degree of cold which prevailed on this occasion, is very interesting. 'I must not omit to tell you,' says White, 'that during those two Siberian days my parlour cat was so electric that had a person stroked her and been properly insulated, the shock might have been given to a whole circle of people.'
White's account of this severe frost bears very significantly on the theory that our winter weather has undergone a great change. It is obvious, in the first place, that the situation of his thermometers was such that they were likely to show a low temperature as compared with the indications in other places. It is also clear that the thermometer he used was trustworthy. If it were one ofDollond's it would presumably be a good one, and I do not think that in White's time the trick of marking inferior instruments with the name Dolland had come into vogue. But in any case Adams's scientific instruments were excellent; and, as the account shows, the thermometer used by White indicated the same temperature as Adams's. Now, the lowest temperature recorded was only one degree below zero; and that this was altogether exceptional is shown not only by what White says in the passage I have quoted, but also by his remarking a little later that this frost 'may be allowed, from its effects, to have exceeded any since 1739-40.' Even this is not all. It would certainly prove beyond dispute that our winters were not milder than those of a century ago; for a greater degree of cold than that recorded by White in December, 1784, has been more than once experienced in the same part of England during the last forty years. But it seems from a statement in Miller's 'Gardener's Dictionary,' that the Portugal laurels were untouched in the great frost of 1739-40, which would show that the frost of 1784 was more severe and destructive than that of 1739-40. If this were really so, the frost of 1784 was the severest (though owing to its short duration it did not produce the most remarkable effects in the country at large) of any during the periods noted between the years 1709 and 1788. On the Continent, the frost of December, 1788, was more severe in some places, though rather less severe at Paris, than that of 1709; but I do not know of any records which would enable us to make a direct comparison between the cold in 1709, 1784, and 1788, at any given place in Great Britain.
It will be well now to take a wider survey and consider some of the most severe winters experienced in Europe generally.
The winter of 1544 was remarkably severe all over Europe. In Flanders, according to Mézerai, wine froze in casks, and was sold in blocks by the pound weight. The winter of 1608 was also very severe. In the winter of 1709the thermometer at the Paris Observatory recorded a cold of nearly ten degrees below zero.
Passing over the winter of 1776, of whose effects in England we have learned enough to enable us to judge how severely it must have been felt in those continental countries where the winter is always more severe than with us, we come to the severe winter of 1788-89.
We have seen that in England hard frost began on November 22 and continued till January 13. In France (or rather at Paris) the frost began three days later, but the thaw began on the same day, January 13. There was no intermission except on Christmas Day, when it did not freeze. In the great canal at Versailles the ice was two feet thick. 'The water also froze,' says Flammarion, 'in several very deep wells, and wine became congealed in cellars. The Seine began to freeze as early as November 26, and for several days its course was impeded, the breaking up of the ice not taking place until January 20 (1789). The lowest temperature observed at Paris was seven degrees below zero, on December 31. The frost was equally severe in other parts of France and throughout Europe. The Rhone was quite frozen over at Lyons, the Garonne at Toulouse, and at Marseilles the sides of the docks were covered with ice. Upon the shores of the Atlantic the sea was frozen to a distance of several leagues. The ice upon the Rhine was so thick that loaded wagons were able to cross it. The Elbe was covered with ice, and also bore up heavy carts. The harbour at Ostend was frozen so hard that people could cross it on horseback; the sea was congealed to a distance of four leagues from the exterior fortifications, and no vessel could approach the harbour.'
It was during the frost of 1788-89 that a fair was held on the Thames. The river was frozen as low as Gravesend; but it was only in London that booths were set up. The Thames fair lasted during the Christmas holidays and the first twelve days of January.
At Strasburg, on December 31, a temperature of fifteendegrees below zero was shown. At Berlin on the 20th, and St. Petersburg on the 12th, temperatures of twenty and twenty-three degrees below zero respectively were noted. But in Poland and parts of Germany an even greater degree of cold was recorded. For instance, at Warsaw, 26½ degrees below zero; and at Bremen thirty-two degrees. At Basle, on December 18, the thermometer indicated nearly thirty-six degrees below zero. In the district around Toulouse bread was frozen so hard that it could not be cut till it had been laid before the fire. Many travellers perished in the snow. At Lemburg, in Galicia, thirty-seven persons were found dead in three days towards the end of December. The ice froze so thick in ponds that in most of them all the fish were killed.
The winter of 1794-95 was remarkable in this country as giving the lowest average temperature for a month ever recorded in England. The mean temperature for January, 1795, was only 26.5 degrees; or more than three degrees lower than that of last January. January 25, 1795, is commonly supposed to have been the coldest day ever known. The thermometer in London stood at eight degrees below zero during part of that bitter day; and in Paris, where also there were six consecutive weeks of frost, at 10-3/7 degrees below zero. The Thames was frozen over at Whitehall in the beginning of January. The Marne, the Scheldt, the Rhine, and the Seine were so frozen over that army corps and heavy carriages crossed over them. Perhaps the strangest of all the recorded results of cold weather occurred during the same month. The French General Pichegru, who was then operating in the North of Holland, sent detachments of cavalry and infantry about January 20, with orders to the former to cross the Texel and to capture the enemy's vessels, which were 'imprisoned by the ice.' 'The French horsemen crossed the plains of ice at full gallop,' we are told, 'approached the vessels, called on them to surrender, captured them without a struggle, and took the crews prisoners:' probably the only occasion in history wheneffective use could have been made of a corps of horse-marines.
The winter of 1798-99 was very cold, but not so exceptionally cold in England as on the Continent. The Seine was completely frozen over from the 29th of December to the 19th of January, from the Pont de la Tournelle to the Pont Royal. Farther east the cold was much greater. The Meuse was frozen over so thickly that carriages could cross it, and at the Hague and at Rotterdam fairs were held on the river. A regiment of dragoons starting from Mayence, crossed the Rhine upon the ice.
The winter of 1812-13 was exceeding cold in November, December and January. It was this unusually early and bitter winter which occasioned the destruction of Napoleon's army in Russia, and the eventual overthrow of his power. (For no one who considers his achievements during the campaigns of 1813 and 1814 can doubt that, had the army with which he invaded Russia been at his command, he would have foiled all the efforts of combined Europe against him.) The cold became very intense in Russia after the 7th of November. On the 17th the thermometer fell to 15 degrees below zero, according to Larrey, who carried a thermometer suspended from his button hole. The retreat from Moscow began on the 18th, Napoleon leaving the still burning city on the 19th, and the evacuation being complete on the 23rd. Everything seemed to conspire against Napoleon and his army. During the march to Smolensk snow fell almost incessantly. Even the only intermission of the cold during the retreat caused additional disaster. On the 18th of November, Russian troops had crossed the frozen Dwina with their artillery. A thaw begun on the 24th, but continued only for a short time; 'so that from the 26th to the 29th the Beresina contained numerous blocks of ice, but yet was not so frozen over as to afford a passage to the French troops.' It was to this circumstance that the terribly disastrous nature of the passage of the Beresina must mainly be attributed.
The winter of 1813-14 was colder in England than on the Continent—I mean, the winter here was colder for England than the winter in any region of continental Europe was for that region. The frost lasted from December 26 to March 21, and the mean temperature of January was only 26.8 degrees. The Thames was frozen over very thickly, and a fair was held on the frozen river.
The winter of 1819-20 was bitter throughout Europe. Mr. Thomas Plant, in an interesting letter to theTimesof February 4, says that this winter was one long spell of intense frost from November to March, and was almost as severe as that of 1813-14. In Paris there were forty-seven days of frost, nineteen of which were consecutive, from December 30, 1818, to January 17. 'In France,' says Flammarion, 'the intensity of the cold was heralded by the passage along the coast of the Pas de Calais of a great number of birds coming from the farthest regions of the north by wild swans and ducks of variegated plumage. Several travellers perished of cold; amongst others a farmer near Arras, a gamekeeper near Nogent (Haute Marne) a man and woman in the Côte d'Or, two travellers at Breuil, on the Meuse, a woman and a child on the road from Etain to Verdun, six persons near Château Salins (Meurthe), and two little Savoyards on the road from Clermont to Chalons-sur-Saône. In the experiments made at the Metz School of Artillery, on the 10th of January, to ascertain how iron resisted low temperatures, several soldiers had their hands or their ears frozen.' During this winter the Thames, the Seine, the Rhône, the Rhine, the Danube, the Garonne, the lagoons of Venice, and the Sound, were so far frozen that it was possible to walk across them on the ice.
The winter of 1829-30 was remarkable as the longest winter of the first half of the present century. The cold was not exceptionally intense, but the long continuance of bitter weather occasioned more mischief in the long run than has attended short spells of severer cold. The river Seine was frozen at Paris first for twenty-nine days, from December 28thto January 26th, and then for five days from February 5th to February 10th. The river had not been so many days frost-bound in any winter since 1763. Even at Havre the Seine was frozen over; and at Rouen a fair was held upon the river on January 18th. On January 25, after a thaw of six days, the ice from Corbeil and Melun blocked up the bridge at Choisy, forming a wall 16½ feet high.
The winter of 1837-38 was remarkable for the long frost of January and February, 1838. It lasted eight weeks. Mr. Plant mentions that 'the lowest point of the thermometer during this long and severe frost occurred on January 20, when the readings were from 5 degrees below zero, in this district' (Moseley, near Birmingham), 'to 8 and 10 degrees below zero in more exposed aspects.' 'On the 13th of January, the old Royal Exchange, London, was destroyed by fire; and the frost was so great that, when the fire brigade had ceased playing on one portion of the burning pile, the water in a short time became icicles of such large dimensions, that the effect has been described as grand in the extreme.'
The winter of 1837-38 is not usually included as one among the exceptionally cold winters on the Continent, and the winter of 1840-41, though certainly cold in the British Isles, is not included by Mr. Plant in his list of the coldest winters since 1795. But this winter was exceedingly cold on the Continent. At Paris there were fifty-nine days' frost, twenty-seven of them consecutive—viz. from December 5th, when the cold began, to January 1st. The intermission which began on January 1, lasted only till January 3, when there was another week of frost. There was frost again from January 30 to February 10. One of the most remarkable stories connected with the cold of this winter is thus told by Flammarion:—'On the 15th of December, the ashes of Napoleon, brought back from St. Helena, entered Paris by the Arc de Triomphe. The thermometer in places exposed to nocturnal radiation, had that day marked 6.8 degrees above zero. An immense crowd, the National Guard ofParis and its suburbs, and numerous regiments lined the Champs Elysées, from the early morning until two in the afternoon. Every one suffered severely from the cold. Soldiers and workmen, hoping to obtain warmth by drinking brandy' (the most chilling process they could have thought of), 'were seized by the cold, and dropped down dead of congestion. Several persons perished, victims of their curiosity: having climbed up into the trees to see the procession, their extremities, benumbed by the cold, failed to support them, and they were killed by the fall.'
The winter of 1844-45 was remarkable for the long duration of cold weather. The whole of December was very cold, January not so severe, but still cold, February singularly cold, and the frost so severe in March that on Good Friday (March 21st) the boats, which had been frost-bound for weeks in the canals, were still locked tightly in ice.
Mr. Plant omits to notice in the letter above-mentioned the long winter of 1853-54, which was indeed less severe (relatively as well as absolutely) in England than on the Continent. Still, he is hardly right in saying, that after 1845 there was no winter of long and intense character until January and February 1855. On the Continent the winter of 1853-54 was not only protracted but severe, especially towards the end of December. Several rivers were frozen over. The cold lasted from March till November, with scarcely any intermission.
The winter of 1854-55 was still more severe than its predecessor. The frosts commenced in the east of France in October and lasted till the 28th of April. The mean temperatures for January and February, in England, were 31 degrees and 29 degrees respectively. This year will be remembered as that during which our army suffered so terribly from cold in the Crimea. But our brave fellows would have resisted Generals January and February (in whom the Czar Nicholas expressed such strong reliance), as well as the Russians themselves did, or maybe a trifle better(if we can judge from the way in which Englishmen have borne Arctic winters), had it not been for the gross negligence of the Red Tapists.
The winter of 1857-58 was rather severer than the average, but not much. The Danube and Russian ports in the Black Sea were frozen over in January, 1858.
The frost of December, 1860, and January, 1861, was remarkable. The coldest recorded mean temperature for a month in time (not the coldest month), was that for the thirty days ending January 16, 1861,—namely, 26 degrees. Mr. Plant remarks that 'the intense cold on Christmas-eve, 1860, finds no equal in his records, since January 20, 1838. The thermometer registered 34 degrees of frost, and in the valley of the Rea, five to seven degrees below zero. Strangely enough, Flammarion makes no mention of this bitter winter in his list of exceptionally cold winters.
The winter of 1864-65 lasted from December to the end of March, all of which four months, Mr. Plant notes, were of the true winter type. The Seine was frozen over at Paris, and people crossed the ice near the Pont des Arts.
The winter of 1870-71 will always be remembered as that during which the siege of Paris was carried on, and the last scenes of the Franco-Prussian war took place. As Flammarion justly remarks, this winter will be classed among severe winters, because of the extreme cold in December and January (notwithstanding the mild weather of February), and also because of the fatal influence which the cold exercised upon the public health at the close of the war with Germany. 'The great equatorial current,' he proceeds (meaning, no doubt, the winds which blow over the prolongation of the Gulf Stream), 'which generally extends to Norway, stopped this year at Spain and Portugal, the prevailing wind being from the north. On the 5th of December there was a temperature of 5 degrees, and on the 8th, at Montpellier, the thermometer stood at 17.6 degrees. A second period of cold set in on the 22nd of December, lasting until the 5th of January. In Paris the Seine wasblocked with ice, and seemed likely to become frozen over. On the 24th there were 21.6 degrees of frost, and at Montpellier, on the 31st, 28.8 degrees. It is well known that many of the outposts around Paris, and several of the wounded who had been lying for fifteen hours upon the field, were found frozen to death. From the 9th to the 15th of January a third period of cold set in, the thermometer marking 17.6 degrees' (14.4 degrees of frost) 'at Paris, and 8.6 degrees at Montpellier. The most curious fact was that the cold was greater in the south than in the north of France. At Brussels the lowest temperatures were 11.1 degree in December and 8.2 degrees in January. There were forty days' frost at Montpellier, forty-two at Paris, and forty-seven at Brussels during these two months. Finally, the winter average (December, January, and February) was 35.2 degrees in Paris, whereas the general average is 37.9 degrees.' In the north of Europe this was also a very hard winter, though the cold set in at a different time than that noted for France. There were forty degrees of frost at Copenhagen on February 12—that is, the temperature was 5 degrees below zero. By the documents which M. Renon furnished Flammarion with for France, 'I discover,' says the latter, 'a minimum of 9.4 degrees below zero at Périgueux, and of 13 degrees below zero at Moulins! I find by the documents supplied me by Mr. Glaisher,' he proceeds, 'that he also considers the winter of 1870-71 as appertaining to the class of winters memorable for their severity.' Lastly, in the winter which as I write (February 10, 1879) seems to be nearly over, we have had for December a mean temperature of only 31 degrees in the midlands—the coldest December known there, followed by a January so cold that the mean temperature for the midlands was only 29.8 degrees. Mr. G.J. Symons, the well-known meteorologist, says of the past winter, that January was the coldest for at least twenty-one, and he believes for forty-one years, following a December which was also, with one exception, the coldest for twenty-one years.' He gives an abstract of the temperatures (both maximum and minimum) forNovember, December, and January during the last twenty-one years, from which it appears:—
1. That the averagemaximumtemperature of November was the lowest during the period with two exceptions, that of December the lowest with one exception, and that of January the lowest of the whole period.
2. That the averageminimumof November was the lowest during the period with four exceptions, that of December the lowest with one exception, and that of January the lowest.
3. That the mean temperature of the three months was not only five degrees below the average, but also lower than in any previous year out of the twenty-one.
On the whole, the winter of 1878-79 must be regarded as the coldest we have had during at least the last score of years, and probably during twice that time. It was not characterised by exceptionally severe short periods of intense cold, like those which occurred during the winters of 1854-55, 1855-56, and 1860-61; but it has been surpassed by few winters during the last two centuries for constant low temperature and long-continued moderate frost. During the last ninety years there have been only four winters matching that of 1878-79 in these respects.
Since the preceding pages were written the weather record for February 1879 has been completed. Like the three preceding months, February showed a mean temperature below the average, though the deficit was not quite so great as in those months. The following table, drawn out by Mr. Plant, shows the mean temperature at Moseley for four winter months of 1878-79, and the average temperature for those months at Moseley during the last twenty years:—
OXFORD AND CAMBRIDGE ROWING.
The records of the last eighteen boat-races between Cambridge and Oxford indicate clearly enough the existence of a difference of style in the rowing of the two universities, a circumstance quite as plainly suggested by the five successive victories of Cambridge in the years 1870-74, as by the nine successive victories of Oxford which preceded them. For it is, or should be, known that the victories of Cambridge only began when Morrison, one of the finest Oxford oarsmen, had taught the Cambridge men the Oxford style, so far as it could be imparted to rowers accustomed, for the most part, in intercollegiate struggles, to a different system. With regard to the long succession of Oxford victories which began in 1861, and which, be it noticed, followed on Cambridge successes obtained when the light-blue stroke rowed in the Oxford style, I may remark that, viewing the matter as a question of probabilities, it may safely be said that the nine successive victories of Oxford could not reasonably be regarded as accidental. The loss of three or four successive races would not have sufficed to show that there was any assignable difference in the conditions under which the rival universities encountered each other on the Thames. In cases where the chance of one or other of two events happening is exactly equal, there will repeatedly be observed recurrences of this sort. But when the same event recurs so often as nine successive times, it is justifiable to infer that the chances arenotprecisely—or perhaps evennearly—equal. I believe I shall be able to indicate the existence of a cause quite sufficient to account for the series of defeats sustained in the years 1861-69 by Cambridge, and for the change of fortune experienced when for a while the Cambridge oarsmen adopted the style of rowing which has prevailed for many years at the sister university.
I may premise that Cambridge has an important advantage over Oxford in the fact that she has a far larger number of men to choose from in selecting a university crew. It may seem to many, at first sight, that as good a crew might well be selected from three hundred as from five hundred boating-men; because it is not to be supposed that either number would supply many more than eight first-rate oarsmen. But it must be remembered that there are first-rate oarsmenandfirst-rate oarsmen. The unpractised eye may detect very little difference between the best and the worst oarsmen in such crews as Oxford and Cambridge yearly send to contend for the blue-riband of the river. But differences exist; and if the best man of the crew were replaced by one equal in rowing ability to the worst, orvice versâ, an important difference would be observed in the time of rowing over the racing course, under similar conditions of wind, tide, and so forth. Accordingly, a large field for the selection of the men is a most important advantage. Taking, for instance, the five hundred rowing men of Cambridge and dividing them into two sets—one of three hundred men, corresponding to the three hundred rowing men of Oxford, and the other of two hundred men—we see that the first set ought to supply a crew strong enough to meet Oxford, and the second a crew nearly as strong. Now, if the best men of the two Cambridge crews thus supposed to be formed are combined—say five taken from the first and three from the second, all the inferior men being struck out—a far stronger crew than either of the others would undoubtedly be formed.
So that if Cambridge were generally the winner in these contests, the Oxonians would be able to account fortheir want of success in a sufficiently satisfactory manner. The successive defeats sustained by the Cambridge crews in 1861-69 are therefore so much the less readily explained as due to mere accident, by which of course I mean simply such an accidental circumstance as that better oarsmen chanced to be at Oxford than at Cambridge in these years, not to accident occurring in the race itself.
Several reasons were assigned from time to time for the repeated victories of Oxford. Some of these may conveniently be examined here, before discussing what I take to be the true explanation.
Some writers in the papers advanced the general proposition that Oxford men are as a rule stronger and more enduring than Cambridge men. They did not tell us why this should be the case—to what peculiar influences it was due that the more powerful and energetic of our English youth should go to one university rather than the other. No evidence of this peculiarity could be found in the university athletic sports, in which success was, as it has since been, very equally divided. And what made the theory the less satisfactory was the circumstance that it afforded no explanation of the early triumphs of the Cantabs, who won seven of the nine races they rowed against Oxford. Of these races five were rowed from Westminster to Putney, a course two miles longer than the present course from Putney to Mortlake. A race over such a course and in the heavier old-fashioned racing-boats was a sufficient test of strength and endurance; yet the Cambridge men managed to win four out of these five events, and that not by a few seconds, but in three instances by upwards of a minute. If there were any reason for conceiving that Oxonians were as a rule stronger than Cantabs in the years 1861-69, there is at least no reason for conceiving that any change can have taken place in the time between the earlier races and that during which Oxford won so persistently. And as the earlier races show no traces of any difference such as was insisted upon by many journalists in the latter part ofthe period of the Oxford successes, we may reasonably conclude that the difference had no real existence.
Another theory resembling the preceding was also often urged. It was said repeatedly in the papers that Cambridge traditions encouraged a light flashy stroke, pretty to look at but not effective; that again, Cambridge rowed the first part of the course well but exhausted themselves before the conclusion of the race, through their over-anxiety to get the advantage of their opponents in the beginning of the contest. Critics undertook to say that the Oxford men 'rowed within themselves' at first, reserving their strength for the last mile or two of the course. Now, it will presently appear that there does exist in a certain peculiarity of what may justly be called the Cambridge style, a true cause for want of success, and even for such a repeated series of defeats as the light-blue flag sustained in 1868-69. But the Cambridge style rowed during these years was very far from being a flashy style. On the contrary, the old Cambridge style, which is still too often seen in College contests, and has within the last four years been seen on the Thames, involves the rowing of a longer stroke thanseemsto be rowed in the true Oxford style. Oxford rowing is pre-eminently lively. Anyone who had been at the pains to time the strokes of the Oxford and Cambridge crews during the years 1861-69, would have been able at once to dispose of the notion that Cambridge men row the more rapid stroke. In these nine races, as in the practice preceding them, the Oxford crew often took forty-four strokes per minute. Especially did they rise to this swift stroke in some of those grand spurts which so often carried the dark-blue flag in front. I do not remember that the Cambridge crews ever went beyond forty-two strokes per minute. Then again as to starting early and being quickly spent, a good deal of nonsense was written. In some of the later contests of the series 1861-69, indeed, the Cambridge crews, urged by the thought of numerous past defeats, made unduly exhausting efforts in the earlier part of the race.But nothing was done in this way which would have caused the loss of the race if the Cambridge crew had really had it in them to win. If the better of two crews puts on rather too much steam at first, they draw so quickly ahead that they soon begin to feel that they have the race in hand, and so proceed to take matters more steadily. In such powerful and well-trained crews as both universities usually send to the contest, very little harm is done by varying the order of the work a little—rowing hard at first and steadily afterwards, orvice versâ. It is easy for lookers-on, most of whom have never taken part in a boat-race, to theorise on these matters. But those who know what boat racing is (as distinguished, be it noticed, from most contests of speed) know that the better boat is almost sure to win in whatever way the stroke may set them their work. A good crew, unlike a good horse, requires no jockeying.
The difference of the rivers Cam and Isis has been urged as a sufficient reason for inferiority on the part of the Cambridge crews. That the difference used to tell unfavourably upon the chances of the light blue flag before the river had been widened and the railway bridge modified, and that even now the Cambridge crews would not be all the better for a better river to practice on, cannot be denied. But I question whether even before the widening of the river, this particular cause sufficed to counterbalance the advantage of the Cantabs in point of numbers. Nor do I think that those who urged the inferiority of the Cambridge river have recognised the principal disadvantage which it entailed upon the light-blue oarsmen.
The first circumstance to be noticed, in this connection, is the difference in the conditions under which racing-boats were and are steered along the two rivers. A Cambridge coxswain has in some respects an easier, in others a more difficult task than the Oxonian. In the first place, he has very little choice as to the course along which he shall take his boat. All he has to do is to steer as closely round each corner as possible; and the narrowness of the riverrenders it difficult for him to fall into any error in running a straight line from corner to corner. The Oxonian coxswain, on the other hand, requires to be more carefully on the watch lest he should suffer his boat to diverge from the just course, which is far less obvious on the wider Isis than on the Cam. But although the Cambridge coxswain has the shores of the river close to him on either hand, and can thus never be at a loss as to his just course, yet to maintain this obvious course he has to be continually moving the rudder-lines. In fact, there are some 'eights' which steer so ill that it is no easy matter to keep them from the shores when the crew are sending them along at racing speed. In rounding the three great corners which have to be passed in the ordinary racing-course at Cambridge—viz., First Post Corner, Grassy Corner, and Ditton Corner—the rudder has to be made use of in a much more decided manner than in the straighter course along which the Oxford racing eights have to travel. I have seen the water bubbling over the rudder of a racing eight, as she rounded Grassy Corner, in a manner which showed clearly enough how her 'way' must have been checked; yet, probably, if the rudder-lines had been relaxed for a moment, the ill-steering craft would have gone irretrievably out of her course, and been presently stranded on the farther bank. And even eights which steer well had to be very carefully handled along the narrow and winding ditch which we Cantabs used to call 'the river.'