they feel quite strange on Thames water. They feel, they say, as if
the boat were running away with them. I have experienced the feeling
myself, when rowing on the Thames anywhere below Teddington; but most
markedly below Kew. It is not due, however, to the mere difference
in the depth of the two streams, but mainly, if not wholly, to the
circumstance that the lower part of the Thames is a tidal river. It is
not noticeable above Teddington, save (in a somewhat modified form) in
those portions of the river called 'races,' where the stream runs with
unusual rapidity. I should suppose that Oxonians felt the influence of
this peculiarity fully as much as Cambridge oarsmen do; in fact, I know
that this is the experience of some Oxonians, for they have told me as
much.
I believe that the principal disadvantage which the narrowness of the
Cam entailed upon boating-men at Cambridge, lay in the circumstance
that Cambridge men never had an opportunity of rowing a level race.
They had 'bumping races' for the college eights--as the Oxonians
had--and time-races to decide between the merits of two or three boats,
whereas at Oxford two boats could contend side by side. Thus it was
to many Cambridge men a novel and somewhat disturbing experience to
find themselves rowing close alongside of their opponents. It may seem
fanciful to notice any disadvantage in such a matter as this; yet I
believe that the matter was not a trifle. The excitement which men
feel just before a race begins, and during the first half-mile or so
of its progress, is so intense that a small difference of this sort is
apt to produce much more effect than might be expected. I think the
somewhat flurried style in which the Cantabs were often observed to row
the first half-mile of the great race might be partly ascribed to this
cause. Of course, I am far from saying that if a Cambridge crew had
been decidedly better than their opponents, the race could have been
lost or even endangered from such a cause as this.
And now it remains that I should point out that peculiarity in what
may be called the Cambridge style of rowing--though it is not now
systematically adopted by Cambridge crews--to which the defeats of
the light-blue flag in the years 1861-69 were I believe to be chiefly
attributed.
It should be remembered that before we can recognise a peculiarity
of style as the cause of a long series of defeats, it must be shown
that the peculiarity is neither trifling nor accidental. There are
peculiarities in rowing which have a very slight effect upon the speed
with which the boat is propelled by the crew. Amongst these may be
fairly included such points as the following:--the habit of throwing
out the elbows just before feathering, feathering high or low, rowing
short or long (a technical expression now commonly, though incorrectly,
applied to the length of the stroke, but properly relating to the
distance at which the stretcher or foot-board is placed from the seat),
sitting high or low, and so on. All these peculiarities--of course
within reasonable limits--are unimportant, save in so far as they
indicate that the style of the stroke itself is faulty. Then again
there are accidental peculiarities, which may be exceedingly important
in themselves, but which yet produce only a transient influence,
because they are personal peculiarities of such and such a stroke, and
when he has left his university they remain no longer in vogue. As an
illustration of this sort of peculiarity, I may notice the remarkably
effective stroke rowed by Hall of Magdalen in the year 1858-60. There
the radical defect of the Cambridge style was almost obliterated, and
all the good points of that style were fully brought out. The result
was that, out of three races rowed with Oxford, Cambridge won two, and
though they lost the third, yet they lost it in such a manner as to
obtain more credit than any winning race could have brought them. I
refer to the memorable race of 1859, in which the Cambridge boat was,
at starting, half full of water, and gradually filling as the race
proceeded, sank about half-a-mile from the winning-post, being at the
moment of sinking only four lengths behind Oxford, notwithstanding
the tremendous difficulties under which the crew had all along been
rowing.[13] Mr. Hall also rowed stroke in the great race with the
famous London crew--Casamajor, Playford, the two Paynes, &c.--when
Cambridge won by half a boat's length. We have, however, to inquire
whether there is any point held to be essential by Cambridge oarsmen,
which is sufficiently important and sufficiently faulty to account for
the marked want of success which attended the light-blue flag in the
years 1861-69. The following peculiarity appears to me to be precisely
of such a character.
It was formerly held by nearly all the Cambridge oarsmen that 'the
instant the oar touches the water' (I am quoting from a pamphlet called
'Principles of Rowing,' much read by rowing-men at Cambridge) 'the arms
and body should begin to fall backwards, the former continuing at their
full stretch till the back is perpendicular; they are then bent, the
elbows being brought close past the sides,' etc. If a Cambridge oarsman
broke this rule, so that his arms began to bend before his back was
upright, he would be told that he was jerking. 'This is caused,' says
our authority, 'by pulling the first part of the stroke with violence
and not falling gradually backwards to finish it. The most muscular men
are more than others guilty of it, because they trust too much to their
arms, instead of making each part of the body do its proportionate
quantity of work. It is most annoying to the rest of the crew, injures
the uniform swing throughout the boat, and soon tires out the man
himself, however strong he may be, because he is virtually rowing
unsupported, and he has nearly the whole weight of the boat on his arms
alone.'
I was myself trained to row the Cambridge style, and when I became
captain of a boat-club, I was careful to inculcate this style
on my crew, and on other crews which came more or less directly
under my supervision. But I am convinced that the peculiarity so
carefully enjoined in past time by the Cambridge club-captains, and
still retained, is altogether erroneous for boats of the modern
build. I first became aware that the Cambridge style is not the
water-man's--and, therefore, presumably not the most effective--through
practising in a racing-four with three of our most noted Thames
watermen--the two Mackinnys, and Chitty of Richmond. They were then
preparing for the Thames National Regatta, though not as a set crew.
Accordingly the coxswain would frequently call upon us for a good
lifting spurt of a quarter of a mile or so. During these spurts the
coxswain was continually telling me that I was not keeping stroke,
and I was sensible myself that something was going wrong. One who
has taken part in boat-races very soon detects any irregularity in
the rowing--by which I do not of course refer to so gross a defect as
not keeping time. All the men of a crew may be keeping most perfect
time, and may even present the appearance of keeping stroke together,
and yet may not be feeling their work simultaneously. I was aware
that something was going wrong, but I found it impossible, without
abandoning the style of rowing in which I had been so carefully
trained, to keep stroke with the rest of the crew. It seemed to me that
they were doubling over their work, because while I was still swaying
backwards they had reached the limit of their swing. Then they did not
seem to me to feather with that lightning flash which the Cambridge
style enjoins. Altogether, I left them after three or four long pulls
with the impression that, though they might be very effective watermen,
they had but a poor style.
Soon after, however, I had occasion to watch Oxford oarsmen at their
work, and I found that they row in a style which, without being
actually identical with that of the London waterman, resembles it in
all essential respects. The moment the oar catches the water, the body
is thrown back as in the Cambridge style, but the arms, instead of
being kept straight, immediately begin to do their share of the work.
The result is that when the body is upright the arms are already bent,
and the stroke is finished when the body is very little beyond the
perpendicular position.
Now let us compare the two strokes theoretically. In each stroke the
body does a share of the work, and in the Cambridge stroke the body
even seems to do more work than in the Oxford stroke, since it is
swayed farther back. In each stroke, again, the arms do a share of the
work, but in the Oxford stroke the work of the arms is distributed
equally as a help to that of the body, whereas in the Cambridge stroke
the work of the arms is all thrown upon the finish of the stroke. At
first sight it seems to matter very little in what order the work is
done, so long as the same amount of work is done in the same space of
time. But here an important consideration has to be attended to.
There are two things which the oarsman does in whatever style he rows.
He propels the boat along, by pressing the blade of his oar against the
water as a fulcrum; but he also propels his oar more or less through
the water. If instead of the actual state of things, the boat were to
slide along an oiled groove in some solid substance, whose surface was
so ridged that the oar could bear upon the ridges without any flexure,
then indeed it would matter very little in what way the oar was pulled,
so long as it was pulled through a good range in a short space of time.
But the actual state of things being different, we have to inquire
whether it is not possible that one style of rowing may serve more than
another to make the slip of the oar through the water (a dead loss, be
it remarked, so far as the propulsion of the boat is concerned) bear
too large a proportion to the actual work done by the rower.
Let us make a simple illustration. Suppose a person standing on the
edge of a sheet of water seeks to propel across the sheet a heavy
log lying near the bank. If he gives the log a violent kick, it will
scarcely move at all through the water, but after a few vibrations
will be seen to lie a few inches from its former position. The force
expended has not been thrown away, however, but has resulted in a
violent shock to the kicker. But if instead of kicking the log the
person apply the same amount of force gently at first and then with
gradually increasing intensity, the log will receive a much more
effective impetus, and its motion will continue long after the force
has ceased to be exerted. The same amount of force which before
produced a motion of a few inches will now project the log several
yards.
And now to apply this illustration. If the object of the rower were to
move his oar through the water--the boat being supposed for the moment
to be a fixture--he could not do better than to adopt the Cambridge
style of pulling. For this style gives a steady pressure on the oar
at the beginning of the stroke, followed by a gradual increase, and
ending by a sharp lift through the water. On the contrary, the Oxford
style, in which arms and body apply all their strength at once to the
oar, would probably, as in the case of our imaginary _fixed boats_,
result in the fracture of the oar. If the boat were not fixed, but very
heavy and clumsy, conclusions very different from the above would be
arrived at. The Oxford style would be unsuitable to the propulsion of
a heavy boat, because, although the oar would have very little slip
through the water, yet the boat itself could not be moved in so sudden
a manner as to make the applied force available. On the other hand,
the Cambridge style would be very suitable; because, although there
would be considerable 'slip' this would in any case be inevitable, and
the force would be applied to the boat (as well as to the oar) in the
gradual increasing manner best suited to produce motion through the
water. Hence we can understand the long series of victories gained by
the light-blue oarsmen in the 'old fashioned racing eights'. But when
we come to consider the case of a boat like the present wager-boat--a
boat which answers immediately to the slightest propelling force--we
see that that mode of rowing must be the most effective which permits
the oar to have the least possible motion _through_ the water, which
lifts the boat along from the water _as from an almost stable fulcrum_.
Hence it is that that sharp grip of the water which is taken by London
watermen, and by rowers at Oxford, Eton, Radley, and Westminster, is so
much more effective than the heavy drag followed by a rapid and almost
jerking finish which marks the Cambridge style.
The mention of public-school rowing leads me to urge another
consideration. There are public-school oarsmen at Cambridge, and
they hold, as might be supposed, a high position amongst university
rowing-men. In general they form so small a minority of college
racing-men, that they have to give up their own workmanlike style, and
adopt the style of those they row with. But there is one club--the
Third Trinity Club--which consists exclusively of Eton and Westminster
men, and although it is a small club, it has been repeatedly at the
head of the river, holding its own successfully against clubs which
have sent in far heavier and better-trained crews. But even more
remarkable is the fact that powerful college crews were sent from
Cambridge to Henley between the years _1860-69 which have actually
been unable to maintain their own against Eton lads_! This of itself
suffices to show that there was something radically wrong in the style
then prevalent at Cambridge; for in such races age, weight, strength,
and length of practice were all in favour of the Cambridge crews.
When I first expressed these views about the Oxford and Cambridge
style in the 'Daily News' in April 1869, several Oxford and Cambridge
men denied that the difference between the two styles was that which
I have indicated, asserting that neither Oxford nor Cambridge oarsmen
advocated working with the arms in the beginning of the stroke. It was
so great a novelty to myself to learn, in 1858, that London watermen
row in the manner I have described, and I found the very watermen who
rowed in that way so confidently denying that they did so, that I was
not greatly surprised to find many University men, and not a few of
the first University oarsmen, persisting that the rules laid down in
'Principles of Rowing' before the modern racing-boats were used are
still valid and are still followed at Oxford as well as Cambridge. It
was denounced as a special heresy to teach that work should be done by
the arms at the beginning of the stroke, instead of the old rule being
followed according to which the arms were to remain straight till the
body was upright in the backward swing, the work being done entirely
by the body and legs up to that moment, and then finished by the arms.
But before I ventured to enunciate a theory on the subject I had been
careful to apply a number of tests not only while watching Oxford and
Cambridge eights, but in actual practice. I had inquired diligently
also of those who are not merely able to adopt a good rowing style but
to analyse it, so as to learn precisely where and how they do their
work. In some cases, I found first-rate oarsmen had given very little
thought to the matter; but on the question being put to them, they
quickly recognised the essential principles on which the most effective
and the least tiring style for the modern racing-boat depends. One
such oarsman said to me, after giving a few days' trial as well as
thought to the matter--'You are quite right; arms, legs, and body must
work together from the very beginning'; the work is done when the body
comes upright; and not only must this be so for the work to be done in
the most effective way, but it is essential also if the hands are to
be quickly disengaged, the recovery quick, and a good reach forward
obtained.
I found, however, that the essential distinction between a good style
in the modern racing eight, and a good style in the old-fashioned
boats, had been recognised (at least, so far as the modern boats are
concerned) a year before my article in the 'Daily News' appeared. In an
article on 'Water Derbies,' 'Wat Bradwood,' describing the University
race of 1868, draws the following distinctions between the two crews,
which precisely accord with my own observations on that occasion; only
it is to be noticed that, whereas he is describing the beginning of
the race, the whole of which he witnessed from the Umpire's boat, my
observations were made from the shore not far from the finish, when
Oxford was so far ahead that there was ample time to note separately
and closely the style of each boat:--'The styles of progress of the
two boats themselves are palpably distinct,' he says; 'Cambridge
take a shorter time to come through the air than to row through the
water; they go much farther backward than Oxford, and are very slow
in getting the hands off the chest; their boat is drawn through the
water at each stroke, but has hardly any perceptible "lift." Oxford,
on the other hand, swing just the reverse of Cambridge, a long time in
getting forward' (he means of course, a _relatively longer_ time, for
no good oarsman would ever take a long time in getting forward), 'and
very fast through the water, driving the oars through with a hit like
sledgehammers, while the boat jumps out of the water several inches
at each stroke.' These last words again relate rather to contrast
between the boats than to the actual lift. The 'drag at the end' in
the Cambridge style used always to dip the nose of the eight, whereas
the quick disengagement of the hands in the Oxford style prevents any
dipping, so that by contrast the Oxford boat seen beside the Cambridge
seemed lifted at the end of each stroke. In reality there was very
little if any lifting, though the sharp grip of the water at the
beginning of the stroke caused the boat to dip a little as compared
with her position at the end. Theoretically, the less change of level
throughout the stroke (from feather to finish) the better; but if there
is any such change, it is far better it should be of the nature of a
lift above the flotation-level than of the nature of a dip below that
level.
Again, towards the close of the same article 'Wat Bradwood' made the
following pertinent remarks respecting the Oxford style in 1868 and
generally: 'The general style of Oxford has not deteriorated; though
many outsiders fancied that Oxford rowed a short stroke, it was more
that the time occupied by them in slashing the oar through the water
was short than the reach itself; this deceived inexperienced eyes,
especially when compared to the slow 'draw through' (query 'drag') of
Cambridge, which often appeared for similar reasons a longer stroke
than it really was.[14] He attributed the defeat of the Cantabs, who
were a stronger set of men than the Oxonians, to the teaching of their
'coach,' who had been (though this he does not mention) as good a
'coach' as ever existed for rowing in the old fashioned style of boats,
but whose 'experience availed nothing to teach the modern style of
light-boat rowing.'
In another article by the same writer, in the 'Pall Mall Gazette,'
(1868), a noteworthy illustration is given of the value of a good
style. 'Among the college boats in the first division at Cambridge this
year, the strongest were perhaps First Trinity, Trinity Flail, and
notably Emmanuel; the weakest in the division was the Lady Margaret
crew,'--the crew representing St. John's College. 'But notwithstanding
this, Lady Margaret went up one place, and pressed Trinity very hotly.
There must, of course, be some special reason to account for eight
weak men proving superior to eight strong ones.' There is a little
(unintentional) exaggeration here; the stroke of the Lady Margaret
crew was a strong as well as an elegant oarsman, and two others of the
crew could certainly not be called weak; nevertheless the crew as a
whole was undoubtedly weak compared with most of the other crews of the
first division, 'That reason,' proceeds our author, 'is to be found
in _style_. Every day of practice on the Cam you hear the "coaches"
of the different racing-boats giving their crews certain directions,
some absurd, and nearly all, from some accidental reason, useless. The
chief of these is to "keep it long," and if you object to the results
of this teaching, you are told that "length" is the great requisite of
good rowing, and that "Oxford, sir, always beat us, because they are
longer than we are." Now, this is true and yet untrue. At Cambridge
"length" is acquired by making the men "finish the stroke," that is, by
making them "swing well back" beyond the perpendicular. Of course the
oar remains longer in the water, but we maintain that the extra time
it is kept there by the backward motion of the body is time lost. The
"swinging back" throws a tremendous strain on the abdominal muscles,
the weakest rowing muscles in the body; very soon the men feel this
strain, become exhausted, and unable to "get forward," and finally
lose time and swing and "go all to pieces." Length obtained by going
backwards is of no possible use. A crew ought to be "coached" to get
as far _forward_ as they can, to finish the stroke by bringing their
elbows past their sides, and their hands well into their bodies,
and then complaints about "wind" and "last" will be fewer. This was
abundantly proved in the late May races. First Trinity, it is true,
kept "head," but only because of their great strength, and because they
had a stroke who understood the duties of his position. Before, the
races every sporting newspaper, every supposed judge of rowing in the
University, was certain about only one thing, and that was that Lady
Margaret must go down; the only question was where they would stop.
They, however, not only kept away from Trinity Hall, but finished above
Emmanuel and Third Trinity, infinitely stronger' (which no doubt must
be understood as meaning 'far stronger') 'boats. The reason was that
they were the only boat on the river which rowed in anything like a
good style. They had the reach forward, the quick recovery, and the
equally quick disengagement of the hands, which marked the Oxford crew
of 1868. Consequently although a very weak lot of men, they were able
to vindicate style against strength. We hope' (added Wat Bradwood)
'that Cambridge generally will appreciate the lesson; it is one that
has not been taught them for years, and results on their own river
ought to show its value.' Less than a year after this was written,
the Cambridge boat, with Goldie, the Lady Margaret stroke, at the
aft thwart, were just beaten by Oxford in one of the best races ever
rowed, and the year after, with the same stroke, they won for the first
time in ten years. The subsequent successes of the Jesus boat on the
Cam afforded further illustrations of the superiority of style over
strength. For the Jesus boat has remained for years at the head of
the river, though the crew as a whole has often been far surpassed in
strength by the crews of Trinity, John's, and other colleges.