'no opposition between theory and practice in this matter, any more
than there is in metaphysics or moral philosophy.' The ill-success of
Cambridge in past years was in the main due to a want of appreciation
of theory, and the absence of due recognition of the entire change
which the introduction of the light outrigged racing-boat had produced
in the art of effective rowing. The Cambridge 'finish to the stroke,'
the 'lug at the end,' as sailors call it, was excellent with the old
fashioned boats. It was indeed essential to success in a race, as was
the lightning feather. But now the essential conditions are a sharp
grasp of the water at the beginning of the stroke, the intensest
possible action then and throughout the time the oar is in the water,
so that the oar may be as short a time as possible in the water, but
_in the time_ may have the largest possible range. This result must
not merely be obtained from each individual member of the crew, but
from all together in precisely the same time. It is necessary that
the stroke should mark the time in the most distinct and emphatic
manner. In the Cambridge style, or what at least used so to be called,
perfect time, though of course always desirable, was not so absolutely
essential as in the Oxford style. The oars being a long time in the
water, it mattered less if any oarsman was for a small fraction of a
second behind or in advance of his fellows. But with the sharp dash
upon the water and the quick tear through the water of the better
style, perfect simultaneity is all-important. The stroke must not only
have first a good style himself, and secondly a keen sense of time, but
he must have that power of making his crew know and feel what he is
doing, and what he wants them to do, which constitutes the essential
distinction between the merely steady stroke and such a stroke as every
man of the crew feels to be made for the place. When one of these 'born
strokes' occupies the aft thwart, there is no occasion for the coxswain
to tell the crew when to quicken or when to row steadily at their
hardest; for the whole crew knows and feels the purpose of the stroke
as distinctly as he knows and feels it himself.
_The following paragraph, written a few days before the race (1879) is
left unaltered. I may note that Marriott, the successful Oxford stroke
of 1878, so far succeeded in improving the style of the Oxford boat
when he took the aft thwart in '79 (far too late by the way), that
Cambridge did not win by anything like the expected distance._
[Since the above was written I have seen both the crews for the present
year's race at work. It is too early to venture a prediction as to the
result of the race, though the odds offered on Cambridge would seem to
imply that nothing short of an accident can save Oxford from a crushing
defeat. It is manifest that Cambridge has the stronger crew, and the
style of the Oxford crew at present is not such as to indicate that
this year the Oxford style will defeat superior strength. In fact, at
present, Oxford shows defects which have been wont to characterise
Cambridge crews, and which unmistakably do characterise the present
Cambridge crew, fine though it undoubtedly is. But if, as has before
now happened, the Oxford crew fall into the true Oxford style during
the fortnight before the race, the odds will not be 2 to 1 as at
present, nor even 3 to 2, on Cambridge.]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 13: 'Wat Bradwood,' in an article on 'Water Derbies,'
afterwards referred to, says that Cambridge was fairly beaten when the
boat sank. He might with equal justice have said that they were fairly
beaten when they started. They never had a chance of winning from the
start, having then half a boat-full, and for some time before they sank
a whole boat-full, of water to take along with them.]
[Footnote 14: This agrees closely with my own description written
later, but independently, and flatly contradicted by more than one
Oxford oarsman at the time: 'In the case of Oxford,' I said, after
describing the lightning feather following the long sweeping stroke
of Cambridge, 'we observe a style which at first sight seems less
excellent. As soon as the oars are dashed down and catch their first
hold of the water, the arms as well as the shoulders of each oarsman
are at work. The result is that when the back has reached an upright
position the hands have already reached the chest, and the stroke is
finished. Thus the Oxford stroke takes a perceptibly shorter time than
the Cambridge stroke; it is also necessarily somewhat shorter in the
water. One would therefore say it must be less effective. Especially
would an unpractised observer form this opinion, because the Oxford
stroke seems to be much shorter in range than it is in reality. There
we have the secret of its efficiency. It is actually as long as the
Cambridge stroke, but is taken in a perceptibly shorter time. What
does this mean but that the oar is taken more sharply, and therefore
much more effectively, through the water? Much more effectively,
I proceeded, 'so far as the actual conditions of the contest are
concerned,' going on to consider the difference between the modern and
the old fashioned racing boats.--_Light Science for Leisure Hours_:
Essay on Oxford and Cambridge Rowing Styles.]
_ROWING STYLES._
Professor Marcy has recently discussed, in a lecture on Living
Locomotors (_Moteurs Animés_), the principles of propulsion. Had he
been an Englishman he would probably have found some of his most
striking illustrations among different cases of propulsion through
water. But, although he limited his discussion of animated motors to
those which work on land, he yet laid down the fundamental principle
of all propulsion, which is that as little as possible--and therefore,
if possible, none at all--of the energy employed to produce propulsion
should be expended in injurious work. Even with the best carriages, he
pointed out, there remain vibrations and shocks which must be attacked
and destroyed to render the conditions of traction more perfect; they
are veritable shocks, which use up part of the work of the horse in
giving only hurtful effects, bruising the animal's breast, injuring
his muscles, and, in spite of the padding of the collar, sometimes
wounding him. Then he showed a simple experiment suggested by the able
dynamician, Poncelet. To a weight of five kilos, (about 11lb.) a string
is attached by which the weight can be lifted, but not much more. Then
the experimenter tries to lift the weight rapidly with the string,
which breaks without moving the weight, while the fingers are more or
less hurt by the sudden shock. If now, a cord of equal strength, but
slightly elastic, is substituted, the experiment ends differently. The
sudden effort of elevation is transformed into a more prolonged action,
and the weight is raised without bruising the fingers or breaking the
cord. Yet a still more sudden movement would break the cord in this
case, though a yet more extensible cord would resist even a yet more
sudden jerk. According to the strength of the cord, its extensibility,
and the weight to be lifted, must be the nature of the upward pull in
order that the greatest possible velocity may be communicated without
injury to the cord or to the lifter's hand. This simple series of
experiments involves the essential principles of effective propulsion,
where, at least, great velocity is among the results to be attained.
Although, perhaps, at present, the public are disposed to consider the
University race from a sporting rather than from a scientific point of
view, yet it has long been admitted, even by the most ardent lovers
of rowing as a sport, that it has its scientific side. In a pamphlet
on the 'Principles of Rowing,' by 'Oarsmen,' written somewhere about
the year 1847,--it bears no date, but speaks of rowing as having first
appeared as a public amusement 11 years ago, and the first University
race on the Thames was rowed in 1836,--the writers urge that rowing
surely deserves to be called a scientific pursuit, and proceed to trace
out the 'main principles in virtue of which it claims a scientific
character.' These principles, which were generally considered sound
when they were originally enunciated, though even then they were
beginning to be to some degree questionable, have been quoted over and
over again since, or, if not verbally quoted, have been, in effect,
adopted by writers on rowing. The justice of some of them has caused
the entire set to be received without question, even by oarsmen who
in practice depart from several of them in a very marked degree. The
assumption has been that there is but one good rowing style, and that,
therefore, a style adopted and proved by practice to be the best in
the years 1836-1846 should be adopted as the best now. 'There is but
one style,' says one authority, 'and one alone,' he adds with some
redundancy. Now, in so far as river racing is almost always carried
on in boats of the same kind for each class--eight oars, four oars,
pairs, and sculls--it is in a sense true that there is but one racing
style. But even in river rowing, as distinguished from river racing,
there are more styles than one,--by which we mean more correct styles,
for, of course, there are multitudinous bad styles in every kind of
rowing. The style suitable for a racing boat moving at full speed
would not be suitable even for the same boat at starting, and would
be utterly unsuitable for a pleasure boat. We may remark, in passing,
that, however suitable tubbing practice may be several weeks before a
race, it is open to objection after a crew has settled into its racing
stroke. No one who understands rowing will assert that even the two
strongest members of either University crew _can_ row in the same style
in tub practice as in their eight at her full speed, or, seeing them,
will fail to perceive that they row entirely different strokes in the
tub and in the eight. Again, the style of rowing proved by practical
experience to be best in seaside racing is entirely different from the
style successful in river racing. Yet another style is essential to
success in races rowed in the heavier boats used by men-of-war's men.
And it will be admitted, we think, though no experiments have yet,
to our knowledge, been made in this direction, that if matches were
arranged among our best bargemen and lightermen we should see a mode
of pulling which would differ as markedly from the man-of-war's man's
strokes as that does from the stroke which O'Leary, of Folkestone,
rows, and this in turn from the style of the best London or University
oarsmen. So far as these last two styles are concerned, it should be
remembered that they have been put to the test in the most decisive
manner. The best London oarsmen have been repeatedly defeated in
seaside rowing (even in still weather), and the best seaside oarsmen
have been beaten in river rowing. It would be absurd to attribute this
to awkwardness in unfamiliar boats, for any good oarsman can very
soon row without awkwardness in any kind of boat. It was the style
which made the difference--the style only. On _à priori_ grounds,
then, we should expect to find the question whether the style approved
by 'Oarsmen' 30 years ago should be, as it is, the style constantly
recommended now-a-days depending simply on the question whether the
racing boat of our time is similar, so far as the requirements of
propulsion are concerned, to the old-fashioned racing boats, however
different in appearance the two kinds of boat may be. To assert this,
however, would be almost equivalent to asserting that there has been
no real improvement in the qualities of racing boats--nay, when one
considers the great advantages possessed, in some respects, by the old
fashioned boats and their much superior durability, we should have
to acknowledge that racing boats had deteriorated. No one will for a
moment assert this. We know that the racing boat of our time is not
only much lighter, but travels with much less resistance through the
water, maintains its velocity far better between the strokes, and can
be made with equal effort to go at least one-fifth faster than the old
fashioned racing boat. The antecedent probability is, then, that the
modern racing boat requires a mode of propulsion unlike that which was
approved in 1840 or thereabouts--requires, in fact, a style which in
those days would have been justly regarded as radically bad.
There is direct evidence from the results of many years of racing to
show that this difference really exists, as might be expected, though
the evidence may probably be questioned by those who maintain that
there is but one good rowing style. It is well known that the style
approved by 'Oarsmen' in the work above mentioned was first definitely
inculcated by Cambridge oarsmen. There is internal evidence in the
pamphlet itself (as where the miseries of the Lent races at Cambridge
are described) to show that some, and, therefore, probably all, who
took part in preparing the work were Cambridge men. Again, it is well
known that certainly until 1868, and perhaps later, the University crew
at Cambridge was 'coached' by an 'ancient mariner,' who, if not one
of the 'Oarsmen' and, as was generally reported, the actual writer
of the 'Principles of Rowing,' was unquestionably imbued with the old
fashioned doctrines. Now, of the six races rowed on the Thames in
the old fashioned racing boats, Cambridge won no less than five. The
Oxford crews, who rowed in a style more nearly resembling that now
rowed by the most successful crews (though scarcely ever inculcated
in verbal instructions), were not only beaten in every race save one,
but in three cases were beaten out of all reason. Half a minute was
the amount by which Cambridge won in 1845; but in 1836 (certainly
over a longer course) they won by one minute, in 1841 by one minute
and a quarter, and in 1839 by nearly two minutes. No wonder that when
outrigged boats came in Cambridge oarsmen were loth to modify a style
which had gained them so many and such striking successes. Nor did it
greatly matter, when this happened in 1846, whether the style of rowing
was modified or not. The first specimens of outrigged racing boats
occupied a sort of half-way position between the old-fashioned inrigged
craft and the exceedingly light, keelless boats now used. Thus, during
the seven races rowed in the earlier form of outrigged boats, success
was pretty equally divided between Oxford and Cambridge. In one race
Oxford won on a foul; of the other six Cambridge won three, and Oxford
also won three. But since the present form of racing boat was adopted
(in 1857) Oxford has been almost as successful as Cambridge had been
in the first nine or ten races. In 1857 Oxford won easily; in 1858
Cambridge won, but the stroke of the Oxford boat could use but half
his strength, the forward or working thole of his rowlocks having been
bent outwards by a wave which caught his oar before the race began.
(The outriggers and rowlocks were shown to me at Searle's boat-house
a few days after the race, and there could be no question that the
chances of the Oxford boat must have been seriously impaired by the
accident.) In 1859 Cambridge sank, and, though she was four lengths
behind when this happened, there can be little doubt she would have
won but for the original cause of the disaster--a wave which had half
filled the Cambridge boat as she was turning to take her place at the
starting-point. In 1860 Cambridge won by one length only. Then, as
everyone remembers, there followed nine successive Oxford victories,
some of which were of the most hollow kind. Cambridge then gave up the
style to which she had so long been faithful. One of the ablest of
the Oxford oarsmen, who was, however, connected in some degree with
Cambridge, trained and coached the Cambridge crew of 1870, the stroke
of which, it should be mentioned, was proficient in the correct style
before he went to Cambridge. That year and for the four next years
Cambridge won, though never in the hollow fashion in which Oxford had
won the victories of 1861, 1862, 1863, 1864, and 1868. The lead of
Oxford at the finish of these five races averaged over nine lengths,
while the lead of Cambridge in the five races of 1870-74 averaged
little over two lengths. In 1875 Oxford won by ten lengths, Cambridge
in 1876 by five. In 1877 occurred the celebrated dead heat; but before
bow's oar broke Oxford had won 'bar accidents.' In 1878 Oxford won,
and again by ten lengths. Of the 25 races actually rowed to a finish
(excluding the dead heat) since outriggers were introduced, Oxford has
won 14, Cambridge 11; of the 19 so rowed out since the true modern
racing boat was used, Oxford has won 11 and Cambridge 8. The difference
is sufficient in either case to show (the numbers being considerable)
that there is a true difference of style, the style of Oxford being
the better. But when we consider how the victories have been won this
comes out still more clearly. Making due estimate of the number of
lengths corresponding to so many seconds of time difference (where
the result of a race is so indicated in the list), for which purpose
it is sufficient to note that as many seconds as the race itself has
occupied minutes are equivalent to about 6-1/2 lengths, we find for the
11 victories of Cambridge since 1846 about 30-1/4 lengths, and for the
14 rowed-out victories of Oxford about 106-1/2 lengths--the Cambridge
average lead being thus found to be less than three lengths, while the
Oxford average lead at the finish has been close on eight lengths.
The difference cannot reasonably be assigned to any cause which
was in operation when Cambridge had the larger share of victories.
Nearly every cause which has been commonly assigned, including the
unquestionably inferior arrangements for college racing at Cambridge,
falls into this category. There can be very little doubt that the
true explanation, as well of Cambridge success before 1850 as of
Oxford success since then, resides in the circumstance that the two
Universities have in the main adopted throughout the whole series of
contests two different styles--each style excellent in itself, but the
Cambridge as unquestionably superior to the Oxford for the heavier
kinds of river boats as the Oxford style is superior to the Cambridge
for the boats now actually used in river races. What the difference in
the two styles is I shall now briefly indicate.
I am satisfied that the essential excellence of the old fashioned
racing style as used in the old fashioned boats becomes an inherent
defect in the same style as used in modern racing boats. I refer to the
principle involved in the words italicised (by myself) in the following
quotation from 'Principles of Rowing':--'The instant the oar touches
the water the arms and body 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, till
the hands, which are now brought home sharply, strike the body above
the lowest ribs.' Such was the stroke that brave old Coombes used to
teach, and such was the stroke by which, time and again, races were won
before 1850. But in proportion as the racing boat has been improved,
both by diminution of weight and resistance and by change of leverage,
the necessity has increased for a more energetic application of the
oarsman's power. A stroke which resulted in mere jerking, injurious
to the rower and not adding to speed, in the old racing boats, is
absolutely essential to the effective propulsion of the modern racing
boat, when once at least full speed has been attained, for before this
the old fashioned long drag with lightning feather is as useful now as
ever. Now, no one who has watched a really good Oxford crew at full
speed can fail to observe the way in which the oars literally smite
the water at the beginning of each stroke. No one who considers the
velocity with which they must move to give this sledge-hammer stroke
at the beginning can fail to perceive that the body alone cannot give
this velocity of impulse in the first part of the stroke. There is only
one way in which it can be attained, and that is by making the arms
work from the beginning, not merely in the sense in which they may
be said to work when continuing at their full stretch, but by actual
and energetic contraction. In the Cambridge style arms and body only
work together after the back is perpendicular; in the Oxford style
they work together from the beginning. The result is that by the time
the Oxford oars man has brought his back perpendicular his stroke is
finished; whereas the Cambridge oarsman has still to give that drag
at the end which used to be so much esteemed, and still is justly
esteemed, by sailors for sea-racing. The oar of the Oxford rower is a
much shorter time in the water, simply because it is propelled through
the water with far greater, or rather with much more concentrated
energy. The Oxford stroke, again, is necessarily a few inches shorter.
For as Cambridge men go as far forward and swing further backward,
it stands to reason that they get a little more length. But they get
this additional length at the cost of a great strain on the abdominal
muscles, and with no proportional effect. A very strong crew which
can maintain the long, dragging stroke with the lightning feather
from beginning to end may win, as Cambridge men have won, but only
because of their superior strength, not by virtue of that lift at the
end, which wearies the most stalwart, causes sluggish disengagement
of the hands, and in a long race has often caused a powerful crew to
be beaten by weaker men rowing in a more scientific manner. It is not
impossible, now that the Oxford crew have had set them the true Oxford
stroke that we may have an opportunity of witnessing something of this
kind on Saturday, though the manifest superiority of the Cambridge
crew in strength and the lateness of the change in the Oxford boat are
unfavourable to the chances of the dark blue. To return to the point
from which we started. The just style of propulsion for each class of
boat is a matter to be determined on scientific principles. There is
no real conflict between theory and practice in this matter. Every
change which has tended to increase the speed of racing boats has (like
the changes in Poncelet's experiment) rendered necessary an increased
energy, or, as one may say, an increased intensity of propulsion.
_ARTIFICIAL SOMNAMBULISM._
Rather more than a quarter of a century ago two Americans visited
London, who called themselves professors of Electro-Biology, and
claimed the power of 'subjugating the most determined wills, paralysing
the strongest muscles, preventing the evidence of the senses,
destroying the memory of the most familiar events or of the most
recent occurrences, inducing obedience to any command, and making an
individual believe himself transformed into any one else.' All this
and more was to be effected, they said, by the action of a small disc
of zinc and copper held in the hand of the 'subject,' and steadily
gazed at by him, 'so as to concentrate the electro-magnetic action.'
The pretensions of these professors received before long a shock as
decisive as that which overthrew the credit of the professors of
animal magnetism when Haygarth and Falconer successfully substituted
wooden tractors for the metallic tractors which had been supposed
to convey the magnetic fluid. In 1851, Mr. Braid, a Scotch surgeon,
who had witnessed some of the exhibitions of the electro-biologists,
conceived the idea that the phenomena were not due to any special
qualities possessed by the discs of zinc and copper, but simply to
the fixed look of the 'subject' and the entire abstraction of his
attention. The same explanation applied to the so-called 'magnetic
passes' of the mesmerists. The monotonous manipulation of the operator
produced the same effect as the fixed stare of the 'subject.' He showed
by his experiments that no magnetiser, with his imaginary secret
agents or fluids, is in the least wanted; but that the subjects can
place themselves in the same condition as the supposed subjects of
electro-biological influences by simply gazing fixedly at some object
for a long time with fixed attention.