A BUMP IN THE EIGHTS.
Only a small number of the men who take up rowing at the University attain to a seat in the Trial Eights, and fewer still, of course, get their blue. It is by rowing for their college, then, in Eight or Torpid, that the majority of University men gain their experience, and so it is but natural that even more interest is usually manifested in the practice of the Eights than in that of the University Crew itself.
Most of the colleges at Oxford have now what is known as an "amalgamated club," which supplies the finances of all the various branches of athletics. That is to say, every undergraduate member of the college pays a fixed subscription to the amalgamated club fund, and the money thus collected is allotted proportionately to the different college clubs. The money thus allotted, with the addition in some cases of small sums received as entrance fees for college races, forms the income of the college boat club; and outof this income is paid a capitation fee to the University Boat Club, which varies according to the number of undergraduates on the college books, the rest of the money being devoted to providing boats, oars, etc.—the ordinary expenses, in fact, for carrying on the college boat club.
A freshman, when he first comes up to Oxford, has, as a rule, made up his mind to which particular branch of athletics he intends to devote himself. If he intends to play football, and does not happen to have come up with a great reputation from his public school, he finds it somewhat hard at first, however good he may be, to make himself known; but if he makes up his mind to row, he finds everything cut and dried for him.
At the beginning of the October Term, a notice is put up for the benefit of freshmen and others, that those desirous of being coached must be at the barge on and after a certain day, at 2.30. The coaching is undertaken by any of the college Eight of the preceding term who are in residence, and any others whom the captain of the boat club may consider qualified. The men are taken out at first in tub-pairs or heavy fours; and grotesque, to say the least of it, are the movementsof the average freshmen during the first few days of his rowing career. The majority of men who get into a boat for the first time in their lives seem to imagine that it is necessary to twist their bodies into the most uncomfortable and unnatural it positions, and is hard at first to persuade them that the movements of a really good oar are easy, natural, and even graceful. It is not long, however, as a rule, before a considerable improvement becomes manifest, and, at the end of the first fortnight or so of the term, most of the novices have begun to get a grasp of the first principles of the art.
About the end of the second week of the term the freshmen are picked up into Fours. These crews, which row in heavy tub-boats, practise for about three weeks for a race, which is rowed during the fifth or sixth week of the term. After a day or two of rest, the best men from these Fours are taken out in eights. No one who has not rowed in an eight with a crew composed almost entirely of beginners can imagine the discomfort, I might almost say the agony, of these first two or three rows. One of the chief causes of this is that the boats used on such occasionsare usually, from motives of economy, very old ones, the riggers being often twisted and bent by the crabs of former generations, and the boats themselves heavy and inclined to be waterlogged.
During the last day or two of the term, the captain, with a view to making up his Torpids for the next term, generally tries to arrange one or two crews selected from the best of the freshmen and such of the old hands as are available; and justly proud is a freshman if, having got into a boat for the first time at the beginning of the term, he finds himself among the select few for the first Torpid at the end of it.
At the beginning of the Lent Term the energies of the college boat clubs are entirely devoted to the selection and preparation of the crews for the Torpids. The smaller colleges have one crew and the larger ones two, and in some cases three, crews each. No one who has rowed in his college Eight in the races of the previous summer is permitted to row in the Torpid, so the crews are generally composed partly of men who rowed in the Torpid of the preceding year, but who were not quite good enough to get into the Eight, and partly of freshmen; the boats used mustbe clinker built of five streaks, with a minimum beam measurement of 2 ft. 2 in. measured inside, and with fixed seats.
Although I do not propose here to say anything about the general subject of training, I cannot refrain from making one remark. It is in practising for the Torpids that freshmen generally get their first experience of strict training, and for this reason there is no crew more difficult to train than a Torpid. Most of the men after their first experience of regular work have fine healthy appetites, and, as a rule, eat about twice as much as is good for them, with the result that, even if they escape violent indigestion, they are painfully short-winded, and find the greatest difficulty in rowing a fast stroke. The Torpids train for about three weeks before the races, which take place at the end of the fourth and the fifth weeks in term. They last for six nights, and are bumping races, the boats starting 160 ft. apart. A hundred and sixty feet is a very considerable distance to make up in about three quarters of a mile, and at the head of a division a crew must be about fifteen seconds faster over the course to make certain of a bump.
Of performances in the Torpids that of Brasenose stands by itself. They finished at the head of the river in 1885, and remained there for eleven years, until they were displaced by New College in 1896.
The only other race in the Lent Term is the Clinker Fours. This race is rowed in sliding-seat clinker-built boats, and the crews consist of men who have not rowed in the Trial Eights or in thefirstdivision of the Eights in the previous Summer Term. For some occult reason there is never a large entry for the Clinker Fours, although the race affords an excellent opportunity of seeing how the best of the Torpid men row on slides, and should thus be a great help to the captain of a college boat club in making up his Eight for the next term. With so small an entry for the Clinker Fours, most of the college captains devote their time after the Torpids, for the rest of the term, to coaching their men in sliding-seat tubs, the time at the beginning of the Summer Term being so short that it is absolutely necessary to get the men who have been rowing on fixed seats in the Torpids thoroughly accustomed to slides by the end of the Lent Term,and also to have the composition of the next term's Eight as nearly as possible settled.
LENT RACES IN THE PLOUGH REACH.
At the beginning of the Summer Term, time, as I have said, is rather short, and consequently it is the custom at most colleges to make the Eight come into residence about a week before the end of the vacation. Theesprit de corpsand energy which are shown during the practice are, perhaps, the most noticeable features of college rowing at Oxford—a circumstance to which may be attributed the fact that the crews turned out by the colleges at the top of the river are often wonderfully good, considering the material out of which they are formed. The Eights are rowed at the end of the fourth week and at the beginning of the fifth week in term, six nights in all. They start 130 ft. apart—that is to say, 30 ft. less than the Torpids. About the same number of boats row in a division in the former as in the latter, the bottom boat starting at the same place in each case; consequently the head boat in the Eights has a slightly longer course to row than the head Torpid.
The start of a boat race is always rather nervous work for the crews, but the start of a bumpingrace is worse in this respect than any. A spectator who cares to walk down the bank and look at the crews waiting at their posts for the start cannot fail to notice that even the most experienced men look extremely uncomfortable.
A START IN THE EIGHTS.
The start is managed thus: at the starting-point of each boat a short wooden post is driven firmly into the ground. These posts are exactly 130 ft. apart, and to each is attached a thin rope 60 ft. long with a bung at the end, while by each post a punt is moored. About twenty minutes or a quarter of an hour before the appointed time, the crews start from their barges and paddle gently down to their respective starting-places, where they take up their positions alongside of the punts. Five minutes before the starting-time the first gun is fired as a sort of warning. These guns are fired punctually to the second, and by the first gun the men who are going to start the different crews set their stop-watches. The duty of these "starters" is to keep the crews informed of the exact time, by calling out, "One minute gone," "Two minutes gone," etc. The second gun goes one minute before the start, and as soon as it is fired, the waterman slowly pushesthe boat out from the side of the punt by means of a long pole pressed against stroke's rigger, the coxswain holding the bung at arm's-length in his left hand, with the cord taut so as to counteract the pressure of the pole, and "bow" and "two" paddling very gently so as to keep the boat at the very furthest extension of the rope. "Thirty seconds more," calls the starter; "fifteen," "ten," "five," "four," "three," "two," "look out"—Bang! and, except for those who are doomed to be bumped, the worst is over till the next night. Directly a bump is made both the boat which has made the bump and the boat which is bumped draw to one side, and on the next night the boat which has made the bump starts in front of its victim of the preceding evening. The Eights are the last event of the season in which the colleges compete against one another on the river, and the interest and excitement of the college in the doings of its crew generally find their final outlet, in the case of a college which has made five or six bumps or finished head of the river, in a bump supper—an entertainment of a nature peculiar to Oxford and Cambridge, which is, perhaps, better left to the imagination than described in detail.
It is a curious fact that, although the ideal aimed at by each college is the same, different colleges seem to adhere, to a very considerable extent, year after year to the same merits and the same faults. One college gets the reputation of not being able to row a fast-enough stroke; another, of being ready to race a week before the races and of getting worse as the races proceed, and, try as hard as they like, they do not seem to be able to shake off the effect of the reputation of their predecessors. So, again, one college gets the reputation of rowing better in the races than could possibly be expected from their form in practice, or of always improving during the races. The most notable case of late years, perhaps, was the traditional pluck of Brasenose. For eleven years in the Torpids and for three years in the Eights their certain downfall was predicted, but year after year, sometimes by the skin of their teeth and sometimes with ease, they managed to get home. The best performances in the Eights, as a matter of mere paper record, are those of Trinity and Magdalen, who have each rowed head of the river for four years in succession, the former in 1861, 1862, 1863, and 1864, and the latter in1892, 1893, 1894, and 1895. Magdalen can also boast of not having finished lower than third in the Eights for some fifteen years. Brasenose have finished head of the river fourteen times since the races were started in 1836; University nine times, and Magdalen seven times. The best performance in any one year is that of New College in the season 1895-96, when they completely swept the board, being head of the river in Eights and Torpids, and winning the University Fours, Pairs, and Sculls. The only other college race besides those I have described is the Fours. This race is rowed in coxswainless racing-ships during the fourth week of the October Term. It is a "time" race, the crews, which row two in a heat, starting eighty yards apart, the finishing-posts being, of course, divided by the same distance. A time race is a very unsatisfactory affair compared with an ordinary "breast" race, but it is rendered necessary by the narrow winding river, for there is not room between Iffley and Oxford for two boats to row abreast. Oxford College crews, undoubtedly excellent though they often are, have been singularly unsuccessful at Henley. The Grand Challenge Cup has onlybeen won by a college crew from Oxford twice within the memory of the present generation (i.e.by Exeter, in 1882, and by New College in the present year). Wadham, it is true, won it in almost prehistoric times (1849), and the tradition is handed down that they took the light blue in their colours from those of the crew which they defeated—a tradition which I need hardly say the members of the sister University always meet with a most emphatic denial.
It may, perhaps, seem that so far I have described college rowing as if its organization were so perfect that there is little or no difficulty in managing a college boat club successfully. This is by no means the case. Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown, even though it be merely that of the captaincy of a college boat club.
In the first place, it is not always as easy as might be imagined to get men to row. Men who cannot be induced to row when they come up to the University may be divided into two classes—those who refuse because they do not wish to take up any branch of athletics, and thosewho will not row because they wish to do something else. The former class (i.e.those of them who, after a moderate amount of persuasion, will not come down to the river) are not, as a rule, worth bothering about. They are generally weak, soft creatures, whose highest ambition is to walk overdressed about the "High," and, if possible, to be considered "horsey" without riding—the class, in fact, generally known as "bloods." Or else they belong to that worthy class of beings who come up to the University to read and only to read, and imagine that it is therefore impossible for them to row. The "blood" is, or should be, beneath the contempt of the rowing authorities, and the "bookworm" is generally impervious to argument, in spite of the fact that he would be able to read much harder if he took regular exercise.
With regard, however, to those men who refuse to row because they want to go in for something else, a little diplomacy and a little personal trouble on the part of the college captain, such as coaching men at odd hours, once or twice a week, when it suits their convenience, will often work wonders. Instances of this may be seen in the fact that many colleges have of late yearsbeen materially assisted by a sturdy football player in the Torpid or Eight, and in the fact that Rugby football blues have rowed in the University Eight during the last three years. Another great difficulty which the captains of the smaller college boat clubs have to face is that of procuring good boats with very limited finances. The usual practice is to save up money for several years to buy a new eight, and to continue to row in her long after she has become practically useless, and, indeed, positively incompatible with good rowing. This is a difficulty which can to a great extent be got over by getting second-hand boats. These can be bought for about half price when they have only been used one or two seasons by the University, or by one of the larger (and therefore richer) college boat clubs, which can afford to get a new boat as often as they want one. By this means a college boat club, however poor, can always have a boat which, if not quite new, is at least comparatively modern, instead of being a water-logged hulk some eight or ten years old, such as one often sees wriggling along at the tail end of the Eights.
Yet another obstacle is there which it is noteasy to overcome. It is often almost impossible to find a trustworthy coach. There is nearly always some one in residence who is considered capable of looking after the college Eight, but the ignorance of college coaches is often only too manifest from the arrant nonsense they may be heard shouting on the bank. There is only one remedy I can suggest. Let the college captain secure some member of the University Crew, or any one else who knows what he is talking about, to take the crew for a couple of days, andmake the College coach accompany him. He will thus learn something of the rowing of the crew, and you will hear him the next day pointing out therealfaults to which his attention has thus been called.
In conclusion, I must add that, keen though the rivalry between the various colleges always is, it is a rivalry which, by the encouragement it gives to rowing, confers good and good only upon the interests of the O.U.B.C., and never degenerates into a jealousy which might be prejudicial to the success of the University as a whole. The college captains elect as president of the O.U.B.C. the man whom they consider to be best fitted for the post, to whatever college hemay belong, for they know that the president will select his crew absolutely impartially, will never think of unjustly preferring men who belong to his own college, but will always do his best to serve the interests of the University.[13]
[13]For further details of college rowing at Oxford and Cambridge, the reader is referred to the extracts from the rules and regulations of the two University Boat Clubs printed in the appendix to this book.
[13]For further details of college rowing at Oxford and Cambridge, the reader is referred to the extracts from the rules and regulations of the two University Boat Clubs printed in the appendix to this book.
THE GOLDIE BOATHOUSE.
The casual visitor would scarcely imagine that Cambridge resembled either Macedon or Monmouth in the possession of a river. He sees in The Backs what looks rather like a huge moat, designed to keep marauders from the sacred college courts, and filled with discoloured water, destitute seemingly of all stream. This he knows cannot be the racing river. The innumerable bridges forbid the notion, although Ouida has, in one of her novels, sprinkled it with a mixture of racing Eights and water-lilies. He wanders on from college to college, and nowhere does he come across the slightest sign of the river of which he has heard so much. Indeed, a man may stroll on Midsummer Common within about a hundred yards of the boat-houses without suspecting the existence of the Cam. I can well rememberconvoying to the river an enthusiastic freshman who had just joined his college boat club. At every step I was asked whether we were yet approaching the noble stream. I answered evasively, and with an air of mystery which befits a third-year man in the presence of freshmen. At length we turned on to the common, which is bounded by the Cam; on the further bank stand the boat-houses. There were crowds of men busy in the yards, there were coaches riding on the nearer bank, but of the river itself there was no indication. We were still about two hundred yards away when a Lady Margaret Eight passed, the heads of the crew in their scarlet caps being just visible above the river-bank as they swung backwards and forwards in their boat. I felt my freshman's grip tightening on my arm. Suddenly he stood stock still and rubbed his eyes. "Good heavens!" he said in an awestruck voice, "what on earth are those little red animals I see running up and down there? Funniest thing I ever saw." I reassured him, and in a few moments more we arrived at the Cam, crossed it in a "grind," and solved the puzzle. Distance, therefore, can scarcely be said to lend enchantment to the view, since atanything over one hundred yards it withdraws the Cam altogether from our sight. It is not easy, indeed, to see where the attractions of the Cam come in. It has been called with perfect justice a ditch, a canal, and a sewer, but not even the wildest enthusiasm would have supposed it to be a running stream, or ventured at first sight to call it a river. Yet this slow and muddy thread of water has been for more than seventy years the scene of excitements and triumphs and glories without end. Upon its shallow stream future judges and bishops and Parliament-men—not to speak of the great host of minor celebrities and the vaster army of future obscurities—have sought exercise and relaxation; to its unsightly banks their memory still fondly turns wherever their lot may chance to be cast, and still some thousand of the flower of our youth find health and strength in driving the labouring Eights and Fours along its narrow reaches and round its winding corners. It may well excite the wonder of the uninitiated that, with so many natural disadvantages to contend against, the oarsmen of Cambridge should have been able during all these years to maintain so high a standard of oarsmanship. Timeafter time since the year when First Trinity secured the first race for the Grand Challenge have her college crews carried off the chief prizes at Henley against all competitors, until, in 1887, Trinity Hall swept the board by actually winning five out of the eight Henley races, other Cambridge men accounting for the remaining three. The record of Cambridge rowing is thus a very proud one; but those who know the Cambridge oarsman and his river will find no difficulty in accounting for it. The very disadvantages of the Cam all tend to imbue the man who rows upon it with a stern sense of duty, with the feeling that it is business and not pleasure, hard work and not a picnic, that summon him every day of the term to the boat-houses and urge him on his way to Baitsbite. We are forced to do without the natural charms that make the Isis beautiful. We console ourselves by a strict devotion to the labour of the oar.
The man who first rowed upon the Cam was in all probability a lineal descendant of the daring spirit who first tasted an oyster. His name and fame have not been preserved, but I am entitled to assume that he flourished some time before 1826. In that year the records ofCambridge boat clubs begin. There is in the possession of the First Trinity Boat Club an old book, at one end of which are to be found the "Laws of the Monarch Boat Club," with a list of members from 1826 to 1828, whilst at the other end are inscribed lists of members of the Trinity Boat Club, minutes of its meetings, and brief descriptions of the races in which it was engaged from the year 1829 to 1834. The Monarch Boat Club was by its laws limited to members of Trinity, and, I take it, that in 1828 the club had become sufficiently important to change its name definitely to that of Trinity Boat Club. At any rate, it must always have been considered the Trinity Club; for in the earliest chart of the Cambridge boat races—that, namely, of 1827—in the captains' room of the First Trinity Boat-house, "Trinity" stands head of the river, and no mention is made of a Monarch Club. These ancient laws form a somewhat Draconian code. They are twenty-five in number, and eight of them deal with fines or penalties to be inflicted upon a member who may "absent himself from his appointed crew and not provide a substitute for his oar," or who may "not arrive at the boat-house within a quarterof an hour of the appointed time." There were fines ("by no means to be remitted, except in the case of any member having anægrotat,exeat, orabsit, or having been prevented from attending by some laws of the college or University") for not appearing in the proper uniform, for "giving orders or speaking on a racing day, or on any other day, after silence has been called" (exception being made in favour of the captain and steerer), and for neglecting to give notice of an intended absence. To the twelfth law a clause was subsequently added enacting "that the treasurer be chastised twice a week for not keeping his books in proper order."
From the minutes of the Trinity Boat Club I extract the following letter, dated Stangate, December, 1828, which shows that even at that early date the first and third persons carried on a civil war in the boat-builder's vocabulary:—
"Rawlinson & Lyon's compliments to Mr. Greene wish to know if there is to be any alteration in the length of the set of oars they have to send down have been expecting to hear from the Club, therefore have not given orders for theoars to be finished should feel obliged by a line from you with the necessary instructions and be kind enough to inform us of the success which we trust you have met with in the New Boat.we remain SirYour obtServtsRawlinson & Lyon."
"Rawlinson & Lyon's compliments to Mr. Greene wish to know if there is to be any alteration in the length of the set of oars they have to send down have been expecting to hear from the Club, therefore have not given orders for theoars to be finished should feel obliged by a line from you with the necessary instructions and be kind enough to inform us of the success which we trust you have met with in the New Boat.
we remain SirYour obtServtsRawlinson & Lyon."
In 1833 it is curious to read, "towards the end of this Easter term six of the racing crew were ill of influenza, etc., when the boat was bumped by the Queens', which we bumped next race, but were bumped again by them, and next race owing to a bad start the Christ's boat bumped us immediately being nearly abreast of us at the bumping-post." Was this thegrippe, I wonder? In the Lent Term, 1834, it is stated, "The second race we touched the Christ's after the pistol was fired the first stroke we pulled, and lost our place to the Second Trinity for making a foul bump." By the way, in the oldest minute-book belonging to the University Boating Club, extending from 1828 to 1837, I find the Second Trinity boat occasionally entered on the list as "Reading Trinity." It continued to enjoy this bookish reputation up to1876, when a debt which continued to increase while its list of members as constantly diminished, brought about its dissolution. Its members and its challenge-cups were then taken over by First Trinity.
In an old book belonging to First Trinity is preserved a map of the racing river, which explains much that would be otherwise inexplicable in the various entries. In those days the races began in the short reach of water in which they now finish. A little below where Charon now plies his ferry were the Chesterton Locks, and in the reach above this starting-posts seem to have been fixed for the various boats. When the starting-pistol was fired the crews started rowing, but apparently no bump was allowed before the bumping-post, fixed some little way above the first bend where the big horse-grind now works. Any bump before this was foul, and the boat so fouling appears to have been disqualified. This post once passed, the racing proper began and continued past Barnwell up to the Jesus Locks. It must be remembered that the Jesus Locks were not where they are now, but were built just where the Caius boathouse now stands, there being a lock cut in the present bed of the river, and the main stream running quite a hundred yards south of its present course, and forming an island, on which stood Fort St. George. This was altered in 1837, when the Cam was diverted to its present course, and the old course from above Jesus Green Sluice to Fort St. George was filled up.
A few more extracts relating to the first beginnings of college boat-races may be of interest. In 1827 there were six boats on the river—a ten-oar and an eight-oar from Trinity, an eight-oar from St. John's, and six-oars from Jesus, Caius, and Trinity, Westminster. In 1829 this number had dwindled to four at the beginning of the races on February 28; but in the seventh race, which took place on March 21, seven crews competed, St John's finishing head of the river, a place they maintained in the following May. Usually from seven to nine races appear to have been rowed during one month of the term, certain days in each week having been previously fixed. Crews were often known by the name of their ship rather than by that of their college. I find, for instance, aPrivateer, which was made up, Ithink, of men from private schools, aCorsairfrom St. John's, aDolphinfrom Third Trinity (which was then, and is still, the Club of the Eton and Westminster men),Black Princefrom First Trinity, andQueen Bessfrom the Second or "Reading" Trinity. The following regulations, passed by the University Boat Club on April 18, 1831, will help to make the old system of boat-racing quite clear:—
"1. That the distance between each post being twenty yards will allow eleven boats to start on the Chesterton side, the length of the ropes by which they are attached to the posts being ten yards.
"2. That the remainder of the boats do start on the Barnwell side at similar distances, but with ropes fifteen yards in length.
"3. That there also be a rope three yards long fixed to the head of the lock, which will be the station of the last boat, provided the number exceed twelve."
These arrangements allowed thirteen boats to start at once, and special provision was made for any number beyond that. Obedience to the properly constituted authorities seems from anearly period to have characterized the rowing man. I find that in 1831 a race was arranged between the captains of racing crews and the rest of the University, to take place on Tuesday, November 29. On Monday, the 28th, however, there arrived "a request from the Vice-Chancellor, backed by the tutors of the several colleges, that we should refrain from racing on account of the cholera then prevailing in Sunderland. We accordingly gave up the match forthwith, and with it another which was to have been rowed the same day between the quondam Etonians and the private school men." The secretary, however, adds this caustic comment, "It is presumed that Dr. Haviland, at whose instigation the Vice-Chancellor put a stop to the race, confounded the terms (and pronunciations?) 'rowing' and 'rowing,' and while he was anxious to stop any debauchery in the latter class of men, by aslightmistake was the means of preventing the healthy exercise of the former."
The umpire for the college races seems never to have been properly appreciated. Indeed, in 1834, the U.B.C. solemnly resolved "that the umpire was no use, ... and accordingly that Bowtellshould be cashiered. In consequence of this resolution, it was proposed and carried that the same person who had the management of the posts, lines, and starting the boats should also place the flags on the bumping-post, and receive for his pay 4s.a week, with an addition of 2s.6d.at the end of the quarter in case the starting be well managed, but that each time the pistol misses fire 1s. should be deducted from his weekly pay."
In 1835, in consequence of the removal of the Chesterton Lock, the U.B.C. transferred the starting-posts to the reach between Baitsbite and First Post Corner, and there they have remained ever since.
Side by side with the college boat clubs, formed by the combination of their members for strictly imperial matters, regulating and controlling the inter-collegiate races, but never interfering with the internal arrangements and the individual liberty of the college clubs, the University Boat Club grew up. With two short but historical extracts from its early proceedings, I will conclude this cursory investigation into the records of the musty past. On February 20, 1829, at a meeting of the U.B.C. Committee, held in Mr. Gisborne'srooms, it was resolvedinter alia"That Mr. Snow, St. John's, be requested to write immediately to Mr. Staniforth, Christ Church, Oxford, proposing to make up a University match;" and on March 12, on the receipt of a letter from Mr. Staniforth, Christ Church, Oxford, a meeting of the U.B.C. was called at Mr. Harman's rooms, Caius College, when the following resolution was passed:—"That Mr. Stephen Davies (the Oxford boat-builder) be requested to post the following challenge in some conspicuous part of his barge: 'That the University of Cambridge hereby challenge the University of Oxford to row a match at or near London, each in an eight-oared boat, during the ensuing Easter vacation.'"
Thus was brought about the first race between the two Universities. Mr. Snow was appointed captain, and it was further decided that the University Boat Club should defray all expenses, and that the match be not made up for money. It is unnecessary for me to relate once again how the race was eventually rowed from Hambledon Lock to Henley Bridge, and how the Light Blues (who, by the way, were then the Pinks) suffered defeat by many lengths. The story has beentoo well and too often told before. Each crew contained a future bishop—the late Bishop of St. Andrew's rowing No. 4 in the Oxford boat, whilst the late Bishop Selwyn, afterwards Bishop of New Zealand, and subsequently of Lichfield, occupied the important position of No. 7 for Cambridge. Of the remainder more than half were afterwards ordained.
So much, then, for the origins of College and University racing. Thenceforward the friendly rivalry flourished with only slight intermissions; gradually the race became an event. The great public became interested in it, cabmen and 'bus-drivers decorated their whips in honour of the crews, sightseers flocked to the river-banks to catch a glimpse of them as they flashed past, and their prowess was celebrated by the press. It is not, however, too much to say that without the keen spirit of emulation which is fostered by the college races both at Oxford and Cambridge, the University boat-race would cease to exist. Truly a light blue cap is to the oarsman a glorious prize, but there are many hundreds of ardent enthusiasts who have to content themselves with a place in the college boats in the Lent or theMay Term. Want of form, or of weight, or of the necessary strength and stamina may hinder them from attaining to a place in the University Eight, but they should console themselves by reflecting that without their patient and earnest labours for the welfare of their several colleges it would be impossible to maintain a high standard of oarsmanship, or to form a representative University Eight. Let me, therefore, be for a page or two the apologist, nay, rather the panegyrist, of the college oarsman, with whom many of my happiest hours have been spent.
Before entering upon the serious business of life as a freshman at Cambridge, the youth who is subsequently to become an oar will in all probability have fired his imagination by reading of the historical prowess of past generations of University oars in races at Henley or at Putney. Goldie who turned the tide of defeat, the Closes, Rhodes, Gurdon, Hockin, Pitman the pluckiest of strokes, and Muttlebury the mighty heavy-weight, are the heroes whom he worships, and to whose imitation he proposes to devote himself. A vision of a light blue coat and cap flits before his mind; he sees himself in fancywresting a fiercely contested victory from the clutches of Oxford, and cheered and fêted by a countless throng of his admirers. With these ideas he becomes as a freshman a member of his college boat club, and adds his name to the "tubbing list." He purchases his rowing uniform, clothes himself in it in his rooms, and one fine afternoon in October finds himself one of a crowd of nervous novices in the yard of his college boathouse. One of the captains pounces on him, selects a co-victim for him, and orders him into a gig-pair, or, to speak more correctly, "a tub." With the first stroke the beautiful azure vision vanishes, leaving only a sense of misery behind. He imagined he could row as he walked, by the light of nature. He finds that all kinds of mysterious technicalities are required of him. He has to "get hold of the beginning" to "finish it out," to take his oar "out of the water clean" (an impossibility one would think on the dirty drain-fed Cam), to "plant his feet against the stretcher," to row his shoulders back, to keep his elbows close to his sides, to shoot away his hands, to swing from his hips, under no circumstances to bend his back or to leave go with his outside hand, and,above all, to keep his swing forward as steady as a rock—an instruction to which he conforms by not swinging at all. These are but a few points out of the many which are dinned into his ears by his energetic coach. A quarter of an hour concludes his lesson, and he leaves the river a much sadder, but not necessarily a wiser man. However, since he is young he is not daunted by all these unforeseen difficulties. He perseveres, and towards the end of his first term reaps a doubtful reward by being put into an Eight with seven other novices, to splash and roll and knock his knuckles about for an hour or so to his heart's content. Next term (the Lent Term) may find him a member of one of his college Lent boats. Then he begins to feel that pluck and ambition are not in vain, and soon afterwards for the first time he tastes the joys of training, which he will be surprised to find does not consist entirely of raw steaks and underdone chops. Common sense, in fact, has during the past fifteen years or so broken in upon the foolish regulations of the ancient system. Men who train are still compelled to keep early hours, to eat simple food at fixed times, to abjure tobacco, and to limit thequantity of liquid they absorb. But there is an immense variety in the dishes put before them; they are warned against gorging (at breakfast, indeed, men frequently touch no meat), and though they assemble together in the Backs before breakfast, and are ordered to clear their pipes by a short sharp burst of one hundred and fifty yards, they are not allowed to overtire themselves by the long runs which were at one time in fashion. Far away back in the dawn of University rowing training seems to have been far laxer, though discipline may have been more strict, than it is now. Mr. J. M. Logan (the well-known Cambridge boat-builder) wrote to me on this subject: "I have heard my father say that the crews used to train on egg-flip which an old lady who then kept the Plough Inn by Ditton was very famous for making, and that crew which managed to drink most egg-flip was held to be most likely to make many bumps. I believe the ingredients were gin, beer, and beaten eggs, with nutmegs and spices added. I have heard my father say that the discipline of the crews was of an extraordinary character. For instance, the captain of the Lady Margaret Boat Club used to have a bugle, andafter he had sounded it the crew would have to appear on the yard in high hats and dress suits with a black tie. The penalty for appearing in a tie of any other colour was one shilling. The trousers worn on these occasions were of white jean, and had to be washed every day under a penalty of one shilling. The wearing of perfectly clean things every day was an essential part of the preparation."
All this, however, is a digression from the freshman whom we have seen safely through his tubbing troubles, and have selected for a Lent Boat. I return to him to follow him in a career of glory which will lead him from Lent Boat to May Boat, from that to his college Four, and so perhaps through the University Trial Eights to the final goal of all rowing ambition—the Cambridge Eight. He will have suffered many things for the sake of his beloved pursuit; he will have rowed many weary miles, have learnt the misery of aching limbs and blistered hands, perhaps he may have endured the last indignity of being bumped; he will have laboured under broiling suns, or with snowstorms and bitter winds beating against him; he will have voluntarily cut himself off from many pleasant indulgences. But, on the other hand,his triumphs will have been sweet; he will have trained himself to submit to discipline, to accept discomfort cheerfully, to keep a brave face in adverse circumstance; he will have developed to the full his strength and his powers of endurance, and will have learnt the necessity of unselfishness and patriotism. These are, after all, no mean results in a generation which is often accused of effeminate and debasing luxury.
A few words as to our scheme of boat-races at Cambridge. Of the Lent races I have spoken. They are rowed at the end of February in heavy ships,i.e.fixed-seat ships built with five streaks from a keel. Thirty-one boats take part in them. Every college must be represented by at least one boat, though beyond that there is no restriction as to the number of boats from any particular college club. No man who has taken part in the previous May races is permitted to row. In fact, they are a preparatory school for the development of eight-oared rowing. Next term is given up to the May races, which are rowed in light ships,i.e.keel-less ships with sliding seats. No club can have more than three or less than one crew in these races. In this term the pair-oared racesare also rowed, generally before the Eights. The Fours, both in light ships and, for the less ambitious colleges whose Eights may be in the second division, in clinker-built boats, take place at the end of October, and are followed by the Colquhoun, or University Sculls, and next by the University Trial Eights, two picked crews selected by the President of the University Boat Club from the likely men of every college club. The trial race always takes place near Ely, over the three miles of what is called the Adelaide course. Besides all these races, each college has its own races, confined to members of the college. But of course the glory of college racing culminates in the May term. Who shall calculate all the forethought, energy, self-denial, and patriotic labour, all the carefully organized skill and patient training which are devoted to the May races; for so they are still called, though they never take place now before June? Every man who rows in his college crew feels that to him personally the traditions and the honour of his college are committed. The meadow at Ditton is alive with a brilliant throng of visitors, the banks swarm with panting enthusiasts armed with every kind of noisy instrument, and all intentto spur the energies of their several Eights. One by one the crews, clothed in their blazers, with their straw hats on their heads, paddle down to the start, pausing at Ditton to exchange greetings with the visitors. In the Post Reach they turn, disembark for a few moments, and wander nervously up and down the bank. At last the first gun is fired, the oarsmen strip for the race. Their clothes are collected and borne along in front by perspiring boatmen, so as to be ready for them at the end of the race. The men step gingerly into their frail craft and await the next gun. Bang! Another minute. The boat is pushed out, the coxwain holding his chain; the crew come forward, every nerve strained for the start; the cry of the careful timekeepers is heard along the reach, the gun fires, and a universal roar proclaims the start of the sixteen crews. For four "nights" the conflict rages, bringing triumph and victory to some, and pain and defeat to others; and at the end comes the glorious bump-supper, with its toasts, its songs, and its harmless, noisy rejoicings, on which the dons look with an indulgent eye, and in which they even sometimes take part for the honour of the college.
Happy are those who still dwell in Cambridge courts and follow the delightful labour of the oar! For the rest of us there can only be memories of the time when we toiled round the never-ending Grassy corner, spurted in the Plough, heard dimly the deafening cheers of the crowd at Ditton, and finally made our bump amid the confused roar of hundreds of voices, the booming of fog-horns the screech of rattles, and the ringing of bells. What joy in after-life can equal the intoxication of the moment when we stepped out upon the bank to receive the congratulations of our friends, whilst the unfurled flag proclaimed our victory to the world?
To such scenes the mind travels back through the vista of years with fond regret. For most of us our racing days are over, but we can still glory in the triumphs of our college or our University, and swear by the noblest of open-air sports.
By W. E. Crum,Captain of the Boats, 1893; President O.U.B.C. 1896, 1897.
In most books that have been published on rowing matters, a chapter has been devoted to rowing at Eton. But these accounts have been mainly of a historical nature, and have not, I think, dealt sufficiently with the career of an Eton boy, from the time when he passes through the ordeal of the swimming examination up to the proud moment when he wears the light blue at Henley, representing his school in the Ladies' Plate.
Before any boy is allowed to go on the river at all, he is obliged to satisfy the authorities of his ability to reach the banks of the river safely if he should upset while boating. This swimming examination is held about once a week afterbathing has commenced in the summer half at the two bathing-places, Cuckoo Weir and Athens, which are reserved for the use of the boys alone.
On the Acropolis, a mound raised some ten feet above the water for diving purposes, sit the two or three masters whose duty it is to conduct the "passing." On one side a punt is moored, from which the boys enter the water head first as best they can. They have to swim a distance of about twenty yards, round a pole, and return, showing that they can swim in good style, and can keep themselves afloat by "treading water."
When a boy has successfully passed this examination, he is at liberty to go on the river. As it is probably well on in the summer half before he has passed, and it is more than likely that he has never before handled an oar, we will suppose that he does not enter for the Lower Boy races that year, but has to learn by himself, with no coaches to help him, the rudiments of rowing and sculling on fixed seats. Always on the river, whenever he has an hour to spare from his school duties, the Lower Boy soon acquires that knowledge of "watermanship" for which Etonian oarsmen are famous.
By the end of the summer half, he can sit his sculling-boat in comparative safety, and has learnt, perhaps, at the cost of several fines, the rules of the river, which are considered sacred by all Eton boys.
The ensuing winter terms are devoted to football and fives, rowing not being allowed; and we may pass on to the next summer, when our Lower Boy will probably enter for both Lower Boy sculling and pulling (i.e.pairs). These two races are rowed in boats almost peculiar to Eton. That used for the Lower Boy pulling is called a "perfection," of which the design is due to the Rev. S. A. Donaldson; it is an open, clinker-built, outrigged boat, which recalls the lines of the old Thames wherry. That used for the Lower Boy sculling is known as a "whiff," an open clinker boat with outriggers. On an average about a dozen competitors enter for these events, five or six boats being started together, the first and second in each heat rowing in the final. The course, which is about two miles long, begins opposite the Brocas, extending for a mile upstream, where the competitors turn round a ryepeck, and then down-stream to the finish, just above Windsor Bridge.
If fairly successful in his school examinations, the boy whose career we are considering will, after his second summer, have reached the fifth form, a position which entitles him to be tried for the boats. He probably does not succeed in obtaining the coveted colour at the first attempt; and it is, say, in his third summer, that he first comes under the eye of a coach.
For the last month of the summer half, as many as ten or a dozen eights are taken out by members of the Upper Boats every evening, and four crews are selected from these, put into training, and carefully coached, and after about a fortnight's practice race against each other from Sandbank down to the bridge, a distance of about three-quarters of a mile; the race is called "Novice Eights," and each crew is stroked by a member of the Lower Boats. Every boy who rows in this race may be sure that he will get into the boats on the following 1st of March; and having reached this important point in an Eton wetbob's career, I must endeavour to explain the meaning of the term "The Boats," which I have already frequently used.
The Boats are composed of one ten-oared, andnine eight-oared crews, presumably made up of the eighty-two best oarsmen in the school; the boats are subdivided into two classes, Upper and Lower Boats.
The Upper Boats comprise the ten-oaredMonarch, and the two eights,VictoryandPrince of Wales; the Lower Boats are more numerous, consisting of seven eights, which have characteristic names, such asBritannia,Dreadnought,Hibernia, andDefiance. Each of the Upper Boats has a distinctive colour just like any other school team, whereas all members of the Lower Boats wear the same cap.
At the head of the Eton wetbob world there reigns supreme the Captain of the Boats, who is always regarded in the eyes of a small Eton boy as next in importance only to the Prince of Wales and the Archbishop of Canterbury. He is captain of theMonarch, and after him, in order of merit, come the captains of the other boats, who act as his lieutenants; these captains are practically appointed by the first captain of the previous year, and were probably all members of the Upper Boats in that year.
At the beginning of each summer term theCaptain of the Boats calls a meeting of his other boat captains; he has by him a list of all those who were already members of the boats the year before, and he knows pretty correctly the form of every one of them; thus, with his lieutenants' help he can assign to each oarsman the boat in which he considers him worthy to row.
The first boat to be made up is theMonarch. Though nominally the first of the boats, theMonarchis actually composed of those who, from their place in the school, or from their prowess at other games, deserve some recognition; in fact, I may best designate the members of the "ten," as good worthy people, who have tried to row well and have not succeeded.
The next boat is theVictory, and here we find the pick of the previous year's Lower Boats. Though junior, and in order of precedence below all the captains of the various boats, these eight have just as much chance of rowing in the eight at Henley as any of the captains; for the younger oar, whose faults can easily be cured, is often preferred to his stronger senior, whose faults are fixed and difficult to eradicate.
Similar to theVictory, though of rather a lowerstandard, is thePrince of Wales, or "Third Upper;" and this is composed of the remnants of the previous year's Lower Boats who are not quite good enough for theVictory. The great distinction in the present day between Upper and Lower Boats is that all those in the former may row in any boat on sliding seats, while to those in the latter only fixed seats are allowed.
Having completed his Upper Boats, the captain has now to fill the seats in the seven Lower Boats. A few of the refuse, one may almost call them, of the year before are still left; refuse, because it is rarely the case that a boy who is more than one year in Lower Boats develops into a really good oar. To these are generally assigned the best places in the Lower Boats, and after them come, in order of merit, as far as possible, all those who rowed in the previous summer in the "Novice Eight" race.
Thus, just as theVictoryis always better than theMonarch, so theDreadnought, the second Lower Boat, is often better than theBritannia, which may be composed of old "crocks."
On the 1st of March and the 4th of June in each year the boats row in procession, in their order,each boat stroked by its captain, up to Surley Hall, where, on the 4th of June, a supper is held. But I will leave a description of the 4th of June till later, and will return to where I left our successful Etonian, who has just received his Lower-Boat colours.
During his first summer half in the boats he is practically never out of training. As soon as he has rowed one race he must begin practice for the next. The first race of the season is "Lower Eights." Four crews are chosen from among members of the Lower Boats, are coached for three weeks by members of the Upper Boats, and then race for a mile and a half. After this follow "Lower Fours," in which, again, four crews take part, chosen from the best of those who have raced in Lower Eights. These two races are rowed in order that those in authority may see how their juniors can race, and also that the said juniors may profit by efficient coaching. No prizes are awarded; they simply row for the honour of winning. After these come Junior Sculling and Junior Pulling, two races again confined to the Lower Boats. They are rowed in light, keelless, outrigged boats, with fixed seats, no coxswain being carried by the pairs.And here, again, much watermanship is learned, for the Eton course is a difficult one to steer, and only those who steer well can have any chance of a win. As many as fifty entries are sometimes received for Junior Sculling, for though an Eton boy may have no chance of winning a race, he will start, just for the sport of racing and improving his rowing, a proceeding which might well be imitated at Oxford or Cambridge. Each boy who starts in one of these races has to wear a jersey trimmed with a distinctive colour, and carry a flag in his bows; and it is extraordinary what ugly combinations some of them choose and think beautiful.
These four races have taken our young friend well on into the summer half; but after Henley is over, he will probably have to represent his House in the House Four race. Perhaps at his tutor's there may be one or two who have rowed at Henley in the Eight, and with these, and possibly another boy in Lower Boats, he has to train for another three weeks to row in what has been called, in a song familiar to Etonians of late years, "therace of the year." It is an inspiriting sight for any one who wishes to get an idea of an Eton race to see the crowds of men and boys, masters and pupils,wetbobs and drybobs, running along the bank with the race, some so far ahead that they can see nothing, some with the boats, some tired out and lagging behind, but all shouting for a particular crew or individual as if their lives depended on it.
In the last few years another race has been established for the Lower Boats; but it has not met with the approval of many Old Etonians. It is a bumping race, similar to those at Oxford and Cambridge, rowed by the different Lower Boats—Britannia,Dreadnought, etc. It is claimed that by practising for this race many of those who would not otherwise get much teaching are coached by competent people, and thus the standard of rowing is raised; but the opponents of the measure object, and as I think rightly, on the grounds that the average oar in the Lower Boats has quite enough rowing and racing as it is, and that even if more racing were needed, a bumping race is the very worst that can be rowed. It is necessary at the Universities, on account of the narrowness of the rivers, to hold these races, for two boats cannot race abreast; but they must tend to make crews rush and hurry for two or three minutes, and then try to get home as best they can.
So much for the Lower Boat races. And there is only one more point to add concerning the Lower Boats: at the end of each summer half a list is published called "Lower Boat Choices," comprising about twenty of the Lower Boat oarsmen; to these also is given a special colour; and it is in the order of these choices that places in the Upper Boats are assigned in the following spring.
Having, therefore, in the next year, risen to the dignity of the Upper Boats, our Etonian has before him almost as many races as when he was in Lower Boats. His first is "Trial Eights." This takes place at the end of the Lent term, between two eight-oared crews, rowing on sliding seats, and chosen by the Captain of the Boats. It is from these two crews, picked from the Upper Boats and the boat captains, that the Henley Eight has to be chosen; and it is, therefore, the object of the first and second captains of the boats to equalize them as far as possible, so that they may have a close race, and that the rowing and stamina of individuals at high pressure may be watched. In the summer half come the School Pulling and Sculling, similar to junior races, but rowed on sliding seats, and confined to the Upper Boats.The winner of a school race, besides getting his prize, is entitled to wear a "School Shield"—a small gold shield, on which are engraved the Eton arms, and the name and year of the race won. To secure a "School Shield" is one of the greatest ambitions of every ambitious Etonian.
These two races being over, practice for the Eight which is to row at Henley begins. Every day the Captain of the Boats, aided by one or two masters, who have probably represented their Universities at Putney in their day, has out two crews, composed of the best of those who are in Upper Boats. These crews are gradually weeded out till, perhaps, only an eight and a four are left; and then, at last, the Eight is finally chosen.
It is difficult to say who should be pitied most while this process of choosing the crew is going on—the captain or those who are striving for their seats; the captain always worried and anxious that he should get the best crew to represent his school, the crew always in agony lest they should be turned out, and should never be able to wear the light blue. Of course, the captain has the advice of those much more experienced thanhimself; but if there is a close point to settle, it is on him alone that the responsibility of the choice falls.
Once safely settled in the boat, there follows a period of five or six weeks of mixed pleasure and pain, for every crew, however good, must pass through periods of demoralization when for a few days they cease to improve, and periods of joy when they realize that, after all, they have some chance of turning out well.
For the last three weeks of this Henley practice the Eight is in strict training; but training for Eton boys is no great hardship. The days of "hard steak and a harder hen" are over. The Eton boy is always fit, and the chief point he has to observe is regularity.
His meals are much the same as usual—breakfast at eight, lunch at two, a light tea at five, supper together at eight in the evening, and bed at ten. There is no need to pull him out of bed in the morning, as at the Universities, for he has to go to school every morning at seven o'clock; he does not usually smoke—or, at any rate, is not supposed to by the rules of the school, and it is rarely that this rule is broken—and he does not indulge inlarge unwholesome dinners, after the manner of many undergraduates.
Every evening at six o'clock he goes down to the river, and is probably tubbed in a gig-pair before rowing down the Datchet reach in the Eight. About twice a week the crew rows a full racing course, and is taken in for the last three minutes by a scratch crew, which goes by the name of "duffers," composed of five or six Old Etonians and masters, and one or two Eton boys, who are kept in training as spare men. The crew is coached from a horse by one of the masters—of late years Mr. de Havilland, who is certainly as keen for his crew to win as any boy in the school.
For the last five years the crew has taken a house at Henley for the days of the regatta, and gone to Henley by train the afternoon before the races. Though much wiser, this departure from Eton is not as impressive as in older days, when the crew used to drive to Henley for each day's racing; when, filled with pride and shyness, the young oarsman used to issue from his tutor's, wearing for the first time his light-blue coat and white cap, and walk to Mr. Donaldson's or Dr. Warre's house, where waited the brake which wasto convey the crew, with the cheers of the crowd, along the hot, dusty road to Henley. In 1891, the last year that this drive was taken, the crew, before the final of the Ladies' Plate, had to drive no less than seventy-five miles in three days. They were only beaten by a few feet, and there is little doubt that but for this most tiring drive they would have won. Once at Henley, all is pleasure. No crew is more popular, none more cheered, as it paddles down the course to the starting-point and as it arrives first at the winning-post. The scene of enthusiasm, not only among Etonians, but among the whole rowing world, when an Eton crew wins the Ladies' Plate after a lapse of several years, is past description.
After Henley come House Fours; and then the list of Upper Boat choices is made up by the Captain of the Boats. The captain, by this means, appoints his successor for the following year, for he arranges these choices in order of merit, just as Lower Boat choices are arranged, and the highest choice remaining at Eton till the next year becomes captain. Thus the power of the captain is absolute; he can appoint whomever he likes to be his successor, and it is seldom thatthe choice falls on the wrong boy. Besides being the sole authority in these matters, the captain has to arrange all the money matters of the E.C.B.C.; over five hundred pounds pass through his hands in a year, and this gives an extra responsibility to his post. Of course all his accounts are carefully audited by one of the masters, and the experience gained, not only in looking after money, but also in arranging dates of races, in choosing and in captaining his crew, and in judging disputed points, is well worth all the trouble and worry entailed.
Our Eton Lower Boy has now reached the position of Captain of the Boats, and here I will leave him to go on either to Oxford or Cambridge and represent his University at Putney. A few words, however, may still be added.
There is a great difference between teaching a boy of sixteen and a man of twenty to row, and this difference lies in the fact that it is much easier, and perhaps even more important, to teach your boy to row in good form. By good form, I mean the power to use all his strength directly in making the boat move so that no energy is wasted in making the body pass through theextraordinary contortions and antics often seen in an inferior college crew.
It is easier to teach the boy of sixteen to row in good form, because his muscles are not yet formed, and his body still lithe and supple; it is more important to teach him, because he is not so strong as his elders, and consequently has not as much strength to waste.
A description of best how to use your strength would be out of place here, for it will be found set forth in another part of this volume. Let me, therefore, pass on to a subject which lately has caused considerable discussion—the subject of the length of the course for the Junior and School races. All these races are held over a course of about three miles in length, and take some twenty minutes to row. They start opposite the Brocas, and continue up-stream round "Rushes," and then down-stream to Windsor Bridge. The contention of many is that the length of these races is too great, and that the trial put on boys of perhaps fifteen years of age is too severe. From this view of the matter I differ, for to any one who has rowed over both the Henley and Putney course it will be evident thatthe forty strokes per minute for a mile and a half would be more trying to a young boy than the thirty-four per minute for four miles.
A short note on the proceedings of the wetbobs on the 4th of June, the great day of celebration at Eton, may have some interest.
As I have said, a procession of all the boats takes place on this day. About five o'clock they start in order from the Brocas, and row to Surley Hall, where, in tents on the grass, a supper is prepared. After supping, they return to the rafts in time for a display of fireworks, the crews standing up in their boats and tossing their oars, whereby a very pretty effect is obtained. The dresses worn by the crews are quaint and old-fashioned on this great day. All are dressed in white ducks, a shirt of the colours of their boat, a dark-blue Eton jacket trimmed with gold or silver braid, and a straw hat covered with various emblems of their boat. The coxswains of the Upper Boats wear naval captain's clothes, while the Lower Boat coxswains represent midshipmen.
So much for Eton rowing; and, in finishing, I must pay a slight tribute to three old Etonians, to whom the success of Eton rowing is mainly due.They are Dr. Warre, the Rev. S. A. Donaldson, and Mr. de Havilland; and I feel sure that out of these three, who have all done yeomen service for their school, I may single out Dr. Warre, and yet give no offence to his two successors. Before Dr. Warre came to Eton as a master, in the early sixties, the masters had taken little interest in the proceedings on the river; consequently the traditions of rowing, learnt mainly from the riverside watermen, were not of a very high standard. Eton had never rowed in any races, except against Westminster, and it was due to Dr. Warre's efforts that competition for the Ladies' Plate was first allowed. From this date till the middle of the eighties, Dr. Warre was always ready to coach when asked, but never till asked, for he believed, and still believes strongly, in allowing the boys to manage their own games as far as possible.
How well he kept his principles of rowing up to date is shown in his pamphlets on rowing and coaching, for probably no one but he could have written so clear and concise a description as he has given.
Besides being an eminent coach, he understandsthoroughly the theories of boat-building, his ideas being well exemplified of late by the boats which won for Eton in '93, '94, '96, and '97.
When the duties of head-master became too engrossing to allow him to devote as much time to the Eight as formerly, his place was taken, and well filled, by Mr. Donaldson. Mr. Donaldson was always a most keen and patient coach, and followed closely on the head-master's lines; and his cheery voice at Henley—clear above all the din of the race—once heard, could never be forgotten. He was very successful with his crews, and helped them to win the Ladies' Plate several times.
In 1893 Mr. de Havilland first coached the Eight, and, since this date, has had an unbroken series of wins. In the first year of his coaching, fifteen-inch slides, instead of ten-inch, were used, and this, aided by his excellent advice, helped to produce one of the fastest Eights that Eton has ever sent to represent the school. Mr. de Havilland has that wonderful knack, possessed by some good coaches, of training his crew to the hour, and it is surprising with what speed his crews always improve in the last week or so of practice.
I can only hope, in conclusion, that I have to some extent succeeded in explaining to the uninitiated the mysteries of the career of an Eton wetbob during the five or six happiest years of his life spent at the best of schools.