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 of

Paris 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 was blocked 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) for November, December, and January during

the last twenty-one years, from which it appears:--

1. That the average _maximum_ temperature 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 average _minimum_ of 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:--

1878-79

Deg.

November 37.0

December 31.0

January 29.8

February 35.8

----

Mean of the four months in 33.4

Average of 20 years

Deg.

November 41.5

December 39.0

January 35.5

February 39.0

----

Average of four months in 20

years observations 38.8

_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 are _not_ precisely--or

perhaps even nearly--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 oarsmen _and_ first-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, or _vice 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 for their 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 of the 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 than _seems_ to 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, or _vice 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 river renders

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.'

A more serious disadvantage, so far as the prospects of University

Boats were concerned, lay in the circumstance that there was no part

of the Cam (within easy reach, at least, of Cambridge) along which the

crew could row without a break, for four or five miles, as they had to

do in the actual encounter with the Oxford boat. The whole range of the

river between the locks next below Cambridge and Bait's Bite Locks, is

somewhat under four miles and a half. But about a mile and a quarter

from Bait's Bite sluice, the railway-bridge crosses the river, and

until a few years ago, the supports of this bridge divided the river

into three parts. There was in my time a vague tradition that the

University Eight had once or twice been steered through the widest of

these passages without stopping; but I doubt much whether there could

have been any truth in the story. Certainly no coxswain in my time at

Cambridge ever achieved the feat, nor could it be safely attempted even

by the most skilful steersman. The consequence was that there was a

break in the long course which took away all its value as a preparation

for the actual race. It may seem to the uninitiated a trifling matter

that a crew should get a few seconds of rest in so long a pull. But

those who know what racing is, are aware that the slightest break--one

stroke even, shirked--is an immense relief to the tugging oarsman.

Beyond Bait's Bite Locks there is a three-and-a-half-miles course,

liable to be broken by the manoeuvres of a floating bridge or

ferry boat opposite Clayhithe. Next comes another short course

extending to Upware. And lastly from Upware to Ely there is a fine

five-and-a-half-miles course, considerably wider than the Cam, and

presenting several splendid reaches. To this course the Cambridge men

used to betake themselves four or five times in the course of their

preparation for the great race. But a course so far removed from the

university itself was clearly far less advantageous than the convenient

Oxford long course, extending from the ferry at Christ Church meadows

to Newnham. Still, annoying as the want of a convenient long-course

must be considered, I cannot attribute the long succession of Cambridge

defeats in 1861-69 to such a cause as this. It is true that before the

railway-bridge was built, the Cambridge crew used generally to win, and

that since it has been so far modified as not to interfere with the

passage of a racing eight, they have again been successful, whereas,

while the supports of the bridge checked them midway on their course,

they were less fortunate. But to connect these circumstances as cause

and effect, would be as unsafe as the theory of the Margate fishermen

who ascribed the Goodwin Sands to the building of the Reculvers.

It has been said that the shallowness of the Cam affects the style of

Cambridge oarsmen. This seems to me a fanciful theory. Occasionally in

the course of a race close steering round one or other of the sharper

corners might permit the oarsmen to 'feel the bottom,' for two or

three strokes; but during all the rest of the course the oars find

plenty of water to take good hold of. The Cam was undoubtedly growing

shallower for some time after 1860; and the change gave some degree of

support to the theory that the peculiarities of the Cambridge style

were due to the peculiarities of the Cambridge river. But I believe

the notion was a wholly mistaken one; and I am confirmed in this

belief by noticing that the Cambridge style from 1860 to 1869 was in

all essential respects, and especially in that feature which I shall

presently describe as its radical and fatal defect, the same precisely

as it had been in earlier times when Cambridge was oftener successful

than defeated.

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