Chapter 4 THEIR USE.

In order to understand the true action in a slide, it will be well to recall the action of fixed-seat rowing. On the fixed seat the swing of the body does the main work, being supported by the legs, which are rigid and bent.

On a slide the legs extend gradually, while at the same time they support the body. On a fixed seat the body moves as the radius of a circle that is stationary; on a slide the body moves as the radius of a circle which is itself in motion. Suppose a threepenny-piece and a half-crown placed alongside of each other, concentrically, with a common pivot. Let the threepenny-piece roll for a certain distance on the edge of a card. Then any point in the circumference of the half-crown will move through a curve called a 'trochoid.' This is practically the sort of curve described by the head or shoulders of an oarsman who rows upon a sliding seat.

The actual gain of rowing power by means of this mechanism is considerable. The exact extent of it is not easy to arrive at, there being various factors to be taken into consideration.

In the first place, the length of reach, or of the 'stroke,' is considerably increased. Mr. Brickwood in 1873 conducted some scientific experiments on dry land upon this subject, in conjunction with the editor of the 'Field' and Mr. F. Gulston. The result of these measurements was to demonstrate (in the person of Mr. F. Gulston) a gain of about 18 inches in length of stroke upon a 9-inch slide.

In 1881 some casual experiments of a similar sort were conducted on a lawn at Marlow by the Oxford crew then training there. The writer was present, and, so far as he remembers, the results practically confirmed the estimate of Mr. Brickwood above recorded, allowance being made for the fact that the gentleman by means of whose body the ideal stroke was measured at Marlow was longer-bodied and longer in the leg than Mr. Gulston.

As a second advantage, the sliding seat decidedly relieves the abdominal muscles and respiratory organs during the recovery. In dealing with scientific racing we have previously remarked that the point wherein a tiring oarsman first gives way is in his recovery, because of the relative weakness of the muscles which conduct that portion of the action of the stroke. It therefore is obvious that any contrivance which can enable a man to recover with less exertion to himself will enable him to do more work in the stroke over the whole course, and still more so if the very contrivance which aids recovery also gives extra power to the stroke.

On the other hand, there are two drawbacks to the slide. One of these is, that when sliding full forward the legs are more bent than would be the case on a fixed seat. The body cannot reach quite so far forward over the toes on a full slide as it can on a properly regulated fixed seat. This slightly detracts from the work of the body at the beginning of the stroke.

Again, when a slide is used to best advantage, the greatest mechanical benefit occurs just when the body arrives at the perpendicular, and when the legs are beginning to do the greater portion of their extension. This causes the greater force of the stroke to be applied behind the rowlock, in contradiction of all old theories of fixed-seat oarsmanship.

Taking all pros and cons together, it has been practically proved beyond doubt to every rowing man for more than a decade that the slide gains much more than it sacrifices. Even bad sliding secures sufficient advantage to beat fixed-seat rowing (ceteris paribus), and good sliding completely distances fixed-seat performances. It is often remarked that the 'times' performed by sliding-seat crews are not glaringly superior to those of fixed-seat annals. This is correct. Nevertheless the balance is clearly in favour of sliding performances. The actual difference is much greater than times happen to disclose; it is somewhat fallacious to draw deductions from averages of recorded times, unless the individual condition of wind and weather, and of close or hollow races, be also chronicled for each year. On p. 106 record is given of the actual gain attained by Pembroke College crew within ten days of their essaying the use of slides. It may be added that Kingston, who adopted slides about the same day, displayed much about the same increase of speed, as shown by clocking and by comparing their times with those of other crews before and after their adoption of slides.

Another matter throws light on the question, and that is the records of practice times-which are, on the whole, more trustworthy to prove an average than race times. Races have to start at fixed hours, irrespective of weather, whereas practice can select smooth days for trials. The records of sliding trials-over Henley courses and tideway-when wind and water have been favourable, show a much greater advance over similar practice trials of fixed-seat crews than is disclosed by the racing times of sliders. The writer believes that he is not far wrong in estimating the difference between sliding and fixed seats, in an eight or four, over the Henley course at 15 secs. (rough), and at something well over half a minute over the Putney course. Scullers gain more by slides than oarsmen, because they can work square throughout to the stretcher, whereas the oarsman's handle tends to place the strain at different angles to his body as the stroke progresses.

Not much importance need be attached to the fact that the first University race rowed on slides eclipsed all its predecessors (and successors) for time.[8] It is well known that a gig eight with fixed seats on a good flood could do much faster time than a racing and sliding ship on a neap. The 1873 race hit off a one-o'clock tide and fair weather; and it would equally have surpassed all or most predecessors if the crews had not used slides. But still it was fortuitous that the first race of this class in the U.B.C.'s series should thus indicate the novelty by time record.

[8] See Tables.

What is more striking is the ease with which times of about twenty minutes or under are now repeatedly accomplished, and by moderate crews, on moderate tides, and often with breezes unfavourable. Till slides came in twenty minutes had only once been beaten, and that was by the Oxford crew of 1857 in practice (19 min. 53 sec.); and as Mr. T. Egan, at that date editor of aquatics in 'Bell's Life,' then recorded in that journal, the oldest waterman could hardly recall such springs as foamed through Putney arches that week, and especially upon that day of trial.

PRACTISING STROKE (1).

PRACTISING STROKE (2).

PRACTISING STROKE (3).

PRACTISING STROKE (4).

In 1871 Goldie's (third) crew were supposed to do wonderful time (20 min. 11 sec.), on a good spring and smooth day. It sufficed to make them hot favourites. In these days a sliding crew that could not beat 19 min. 40 sec. on a smooth spring tide would be reckoned to have a bad chance of success.

The value of slides is therefore beyond dispute, but the oarsman should realise that good sliding distances bad sliding quite as far as bad sliding can beat fixed seats.

Hence the importance of using the slide to the best advantage. To realise what he has to do, let a man test separately his two forces which he has presently to combine. Let him row an ordinary fixed-seat stroke: this shows him the power of his swing; then let him sit upright, holding his oar, and, having slid up forward, kick back with rigid back and arms. He will feel that he grips the water even more forcibly for the instant by the second than by the former process. The fallacy of bad sliders is to be content with this gain of power in the action last named, and to substitute slide for swing (the arms eventually rowing the stroke home in either case). The problem which an oarsman has to solve is to combine the two actions.

In order to do this, he should realise an important fact, viz. that the body cannot work effectually unless it receives support from the extensor muscles of the legs. Therefore, if he slides before he swings, or if he completes his slide before he completes his swing, any swing which he attempts after the slide is played out is practically powerless. Also, if the swing is thus rendered helpless, so also is the finish of the stroke with the arms, for these depend upon the body for support, and the body cannot supply them with this support unless the legs in their turn are doing their duty to the body.

Bearing this amount of theory in mind, the oarsman should put it into practice thus. He should get forward (and immerse his blade, as on a fixed seat). Then, at the moment he touches the water, he should bring his body to bear upon the handle, just as if he were for the instant rowing on a fixed seat; his legs should be rigid, though bent, at the instant of catch. (See No. 1, p. 110.) So soon as the catch has been applied, the oar-handle begins to come in to the operator. Now comes a bit of watermanship and management of the limbs which require special attention, and which few oarsmen, even in these days of improved sliding, carry out to exact perfection. The knees have been elevated by the slide (if it is anything over 4 inches) to a height over which the oar-handle cannot pass without being elevated in its turn. Therefore, having once made his catch with rigid knees, the pupil should then begin to slide, contemporaneously with his swing, for a small distance, until he has brought his knees to such a level that the oar-loom can pass over them (No. 2, p. 110). He should during this period of the stroke slide only just so much as is required in order to bring his knees to the necessary height before the oar reaches them. By the time that the oar comes over them he will be about the perpendicular (No. 3, p. 111). Now comes that part of the stroke which, on a slide, is the most effective. The body should from this point swing well back, much further so than would be orthodox upon a fixed seat; all the time that the body is thus swinging back the legs should be extending, and the pace of extension should be regulated according to the length of slide. In any case the slide and swing should terminate contemporaneously (No. 4, p. 111). The arms, as in fixed-seat rowing, should contract and row the stroke home while the body is still swinging back. They should not begin to bend until the trunk has well passed the perpendicular.

The oarsman must bear in mind that the moment for finishing his slide should be regulated, not by the length of the slide, but by the length of his swing, and the latter should go well back until his body is at an angle of about thirty degrees beyond the perpendicular. Suppose he has a long slide, say of 10 inches or more, and he decides, either from fatigue or because he need not fully extend himself, to use only part of his slide; or suppose he is changed from a boat fitted with 11-inch slides to one with 9-inch ditto, he must not, when using the shorter slide, allow his legs to extend as rapidly as they did when they had a longer distance to cover. If he fails to observe this he will 'hurry' his slide, and will bring it to an end before the swing is completed, thus rendering the latter part of the swing helpless for want of due leg-support. If slide and swing are not arranged contemporaneously, it is far better that a balance of slide should remain to be run out after the swing has finished than vice versa. The legs can always push, and so continue the stroke, even if the body is rigid; but the body cannot conversely do anything effective for the stroke when once the legs have run their course.

The recovery on a sliding seat is not quite the counterpart of that on a fixed seat. On the fixed seat the recovery should be the converse of the stroke: i.e. the arms, which came in latest, while the body was still swinging back, should shoot out first, while the body is beginning its return swing; and just as the first part of the stroke was performed with straight arms and swinging body, so the last part of the recovery should disclose a similar pose of arms and body. But upon a slide there is not exactly such a transposition on the recovery of the motions which are correct for the stroke. The hands play the same part as before; they cannot well be too lively off the chest and in extension, because the knees require more clearing on slides, and the sooner the hands are on the safe side of them the less chance is there of fouling the water on the return of the blade. But, as regards the relations between slide and swing, these should not bear the same relation conversely which they did to each other during the stroke. The pupil was enjoined not to let his slide run ahead of his swing while rowing the stroke through; but on the recovery he may, and should, let his slide get well ahead, and be completed before the body has attained its full reach forward. The body should not wait for the swing to do its duty first, but it should begin at once to recover, though more leisurely than the legs. The reasons for this are:-

1. The pace of the slide lends impetus to the trunk, and eases the labour of the forward swing; it transfers some of the exertion of recovering the trunk from the abdominal muscles, which are weak, to the flexors of legs and loins, which are much more powerful, and are better able to stand the strain.

2. The body needs some purchase upon which to depend for its recovery, and the legs can aid it in this respect much more effectually when bent than when rigid. Therefore, since staying power is greatly affected by the amount of exertion involved in recovery (as explained in previous pages), the oarsman will last longer in proportion as he thus omits the recovery of his trunk, by accelerating his slide on the return.

Many good oarsmen slide until the knees are quite straight. In the writer's opinion, this is waste of power: the knees should never quite straighten; the recovery is, for anatomical reasons, much stronger if the joint is slightly bent when the reversal of the machinery commences (No. 4, p. 111). The extra half-inch of kick gained by quite straightening the knees hardly compensates for the extra strain of recovery; also leg-work to the last fraction of a second of swing is better preserved by this retention of a slight bend, and an open chest and clean finish are thereby better attained. Engineers, who know what is meant by a 'dead point' in machinery, will at once grasp the reason for not allowing the legs to shoot quite straight.

When a crew are being coached upon slides, it is of great importance to get the slide simultaneous, and as nearly as possible equal. A long-legged man, sculling, may use a much longer slide than a short man. But in an eight, if the long man fits his stretcher as if for sculling, he will be doing more than his share, and may be unable to shoot so long a slide through in the required time, except by dint of 'hurrying' it; and, if he does this latter, the result is to cripple his swing, as shown supra. There must be a certain amount of give-and-take in arranging slides in an eight or four oar. That length of slide is best which all the crew can work simultaneously and effectively, preserving uniformity of swing and slide.

When tiros are being taught their first lesson in sliding, they should be placed on very short slides, say 3 inches at most. The centre of the slide only should be used. The runners should be blocked fore and aft, so that when the slide stands half way (11?2 inch from foremost block), the distance from the seat to the stretcher should be just as much as the man would require if he were on a fixed seat.

Young hands are less likely to make their stroke all slide and no swing if they have at first only such length of slide as above indicated. When the slide of 3 inches has been mastered, it may be lengthened, inch by inch. In thus lengthening the slide, it is best to add, at first, more to the forward part of the slide than to the back part, i.e. say, for a 4-inch slide, 21?2 inches before and 11?2 inch behind, the point of seat for fixed-seat work, to the same stretcher. This arrangement prevents the pupil from lacking leg-support at the end of his swing, and teaches him to feel his legs well against the stretcher till the hands have come home to the chest. When 4 inches have been mastered, add another inch forward and about half an inch back, and so on. In time the beginner will reach the full range of his slide forward, while yet he is 'blocked' from using the full distance back. When he becomes proficient in this pose, his slide back can be increased by degrees until he attains a full slide. The great thing is to induce him from the first to combine his slide with his swing, and not to substitute the former for the latter.

When slides first came in shocking form was seen upon them, as previously stated. This was a venial result of oarsmen being driven-by emulation to win prizes in races immediately impending-to attempt to run before they had learnt to walk, so to speak. The year 1873 saw worse form among amateurs than the writer can recall in any season. In 1874 matters began to mend. The two University strokes of that year, Messrs. Rhodes and Way, had each been at pains to improve his style since he had last been seen in public at Henley. Each seemed to realise that he had been on a wrong tack, and set to work to alter his style radically. These same gentlemen were strokes of their respective U.B.C.'s in 1875, and the improvement was still more palpable. The Oxonian had an exceptionally fine lot of men behind him; the Cantab had two or three weak men in the bows who did not do justice to him. But none the less, when these crews performed at Putney, old-fashioned critics, who had been till then prejudiced against the new machinery, as being destructive to form, were fain to admit that after all, when properly managed, slides could produce as good form of body and shoulders as in the best of the old days. The Leander crew which won the G.C.C. at Henley in that year showed admirable sliding form. It was stroked by Mr. Goldie, who had rowed all his University races on a fixed seat. When he first took to a slide (for sculling) he fell into the same error as many other amateurs, almost entirely substituting slide for swing. But for this oversight he might have won both Diamond and Wingfield sculls. He soon saw his error, like Messrs. Rhodes and Way, and when he stroked Leander in 1875 no one could have recognised him as the same man who had been contesting the Diamonds in 1872. These three fuglemen strokes did much to elevate the standard of sliding among amateurs; it was chiefly through their examples, crowned with success, that the earlier samples of sliding oarsmanship became better realised. Professionals remained blind in their own conceit, as is shown in another chapter, but from this date amateur oarsmanship completely gave the go-by to professional exhibitions of skill and science in aquatics.

* * *

A COLLEGE FOUR.

CHAPTER VIII.

FOUR-OARS.

The fewer the number of performers in a boat the longer does it take (with material of uniform quality) to acquire absolute evenness of action. This may seem paradoxical, but none the less all practical oarsmen will, from their own personal experiences, endorse the statement. It has been said that it takes twice as long to perfect a four as an eight, twice as long to perfect a pair as a four, and twice as long to perfect a sculler as a pair. This scale may be fanciful, but it is approximately truthful; it refers, of course, to the education of oarsmen for work in the respective craft, from their earliest days of instruction. It means that a higher standard of watermanship has to be attained, in order to do justice to the style of craft rowed in, according as the ship carries more or fewer performers. Many an oarsman who by honest tugging can improve the go of an eight-oar will do more harm than good in a light four, and will be simply helpless in a racing pair.

Four-oar races, with the exception of some junior contests, are now rowed in coxswainless craft. The first of these seen in Europe was that of the St. John's Canadian crew (professional, but admitted for the nonce as amateurs) at the Paris International Regatta 1867. All the other crews carried steerers. The Canadians had the windward station in a stiff wind, and won easily. Next year the B.N.C. Oxon Club produced a four thus constructed at Henley. The rules did not forbid this; but the novelty scared other competitors and threatened to spoil the racing in that class. The stewards accordingly passed a resolution forbidding any of the entries to dispense with a coxswain, and under cover of this disqualified the B.N.C. four when it came in ahead.

Next year the resolution referred to remained in force (as regards the Challenge Cups), but a presentation prize for fours without coxswains was given, and was won by the Oxford Radleian Club. In 1871 the chief professional matches were rowed without coxswains; but no more prizes were given for this class of rowing at Henley until 1873, when the Stewards' Cup was classed for 'no coxswains.' At Oxford college fours were similarly altered, but the steering was so bad that it was seriously proposed to revert to the old system. A similar proposal was made with regard to Henley. Fortunately, wiser counsels prevailed, and oarsmen realised that it was better to attempt to raise their own talents to the standard required for the improved build than to detract from the build to suit the failings of mediocrity. In 1875 the Visitors and Wyfold Cups were emancipated from coxswains, and since then the standard of amateur four-oar rowing has gradually risen to the requirements of the improved class of build.

Steerage is of course the main difficulty in these pairs. Three different sorts of apparatus have been used in them. Two of these are much of the same sort. One, generally in use to this day, consists of two bars projecting from the stretcher, and working horizontally in slits cut in the board. The foot presses against one bar or other to direct the rudder, Another process is to fix a shoe to the stretcher, in which the oarsman places his foot. This shoe works laterally. The third is one tried by the writer in 1868. Every inventor thinks his goose a swan, and possibly the writer is over-sanguine as to the merits of his own hobby. It consists of two bars laid on the stretcher, like a very widely opened letter V, the arms of the V pointing in the direction of the sitter. Each arm is hinged at the apex of the V. The stretcher is grooved, so that either arm can be pressed into the groove, flush with the surface of the stretcher. Behind each bar is a spring. The bars cross the stretcher just about the ball of the foot. The hinge is sunk deep in the wood, so that the arms of the levers do not begin to project above the wood till some 5 inches on either side of the centre of the stretcher. The feet are placed in ordinary rowing pose, in the middle of the V, where the levers lie below the flush surface of the stretcher. The strap, though tight, has a wide loop, to admit of slight lateral movement of the feet. To put on rudder either foot is slipped half an inch or so outward. This brings it on to the lever of that side, and the pressure of the foot drives the lever flush. This pressure and movement of the lever, by means of another small lever and swivel outside the gunwale, in connection with it, works the rudder line. When steerage enough has been obtained, a half-inch return of the foot to its normal pose releases the lever, and the spring behind it at once brings it to status quo ante.

Now in the other two mechanisms above cited, the same foot has to steer both ways. Hence, for one of the two directions, the toe must turn in like a pigeon's. This must, for the moment, cripple leg-work, especially on slides. Again, with lateral movement in first and second machines, it is difficult for the steerer to know to exactness when his rudder is 'off.' He may, in returning it after steerage, leave it a trifle on, or carry it the other way too far. If so, he has to counter-steer a stroke or two later, till he feels that his rudder is free and trailing. The writer claims for his own invention that it never removes the feet from the proper outward-turned pose against the stretcher, and that the springs under the lever ensure the rudder swinging back and 'trailing' so soon as a lever is released.

Whatever apparatus is used, wires, not strings, should lead the rudder, and should not be too tight; they will pull enough, though slightly loose.

Anyone may steer; the best waterman, if not too short-sighted, should do so, but stroke should not take the task if anyone else is at all fit for it.

FOUR-OAR.

The steerer should not be repeatedly looking round, as regards his course. If he is sure of no obstacles lying in his path, he can, when once he has laid his boat straight for a reach, watch her stern-post, and keep touch on it, to hold it to some landmark.

A coxswainless four really facilitates oarsmanship. It recovers from a roll more freely than the old-fashioned build with a pilot. It is uneven rowing which causes a roll, but when once equilibrium has been disturbed the coxswain has more difficulty than the crew in regaining balance. The oarsmen aid themselves with their oars, as with balancing poles. The removal of the coxswain therefore tends to reduce the rolling, and facilitates the speedy return of the ship to her keel when momentarily thrown off it. Coxswainless fours at Henley travel now much more steadily than did those with coxswains fifteen years ago. A runner on the bank, to look out for obstructive craft, is useful in practice. It enables the steerer to keep his eyes on his stern-post, and to guide his course thereby in confidence, without repeated twists round to see if any loafing duffer is going to smash his timbers. The pace of a first-class coxswainless four, in smooth water, for half a mile is quite as great as that of a second-class eight-oar with a coxswain. The abolition of coxswain has improved the speed of fours some forty seconds over the Henley course.

One good resulted from the attempt of B.N.C. in 1868 to row without a coxswain. It opened the eyes of the regatta executive to the unfairness of tolerating boy coxswains. The University clubs used to carry boys of four or five stone. In that very year the 'Oscillators' had a four-stone lad, while University College carried an eight-stone man. There was just as much difference between these two fours in dead weight carried as between B.N.C. (with no coxswain) and the Oscillators. University clubs are ex officio debarred from obtaining boys to steer. This inequality had been complained of by college crews time after time. Old Mr. Lane, the usual vice-chairman, used to sneer at the complaint, and say, 'If a boy can do in one boat what it takes a man to do in another, it is not fair to prohibit the boy.' If this were logical, then, pari passu, there could be no unfairness for one man to do single-handed what in other boats it took a man and a boy (or two men) to do, viz. both row and steer. Mr. Lane's fallacy was exploded by this reductio ad absurdum of his tenets, and regulation weights for coxswains were initiated for following years.

* * *

NEAR MEDMENHAM.

CHAPTER IX.

PAIR-OARS.

More than one master of oarsmanship has declared that good pair-oar rowing is the acme of oarsmanship. Just as there are fewer oarsmen who can do justice to a four-oar than to an eight, so when we come to pair-oars we find still fewer performers who can really show first-class style in this line of rowing. Much as watermanship is needed in a four, it is still more important to possess it when rowing in a pair. One, or even two men, out of a four-oared crew may be what would be considered bad watermen, i.e. not au fait at sitting a rolling boat, and not instinctively time-keepers. Yet, if the other two men have the quality of watermanship, the four may speedily fall together, provided the two outsiders show sound general principles of style. In a pair-oar, if either of the hands is a bad waterman, the combination will never rise above mediocrity. In pair-oar rowing there is needed a je-ne-sais-quoi sort of mutual concession of style. One man is stroke and the other bow, but there is in good pair-oarsmen an indefinite and almost unconscious give-and-take action on the part of both men. The style of the two is a sort of blend.

Old Harry Clasper, when asked which steered, of himself and his son Jack, in a pair, said that 'both steered.' To do this is the acme of homogeneous rowing. Of two partners one may, and should, act as chief; but his colleague should be co-operating with him, and almost anticipating his motions and orders.

When two strange partners commence work, they should make up their minds not to row 'jealous.' If each begins by trying to row the other round, they will disagree like Richard Penlake and his wife. They had better each try to see who can do least work: sit the boat, paddle gently, studying to drop into the water together, to catch the water together, to finish together, to feather together (and cleanly), and to recover together. The less work they try to do, while thus seeking to assimilate their motions to each other, the quicker will they settle down.

As to rowing each other round, such emulation should never enter their heads. To row a partner round is no proof of having done more work than he towards propelling the boat. One man may catch sharply and row cleanly, and in a style calculated to make a boat travel; his colleague may slither the beginning and tug at the end, staying a fraction of a second later in the water than the other, but rowing no longer in reach. The latter will probably row the boat round! A tug at the end of a stroke turns a boat much more than a catch at the beginning; yet the latter propels the racing boat far more. Of course, if two men row alike in style and reach from end to end, and one puts on all through the stroke a trifle more pressure, the ship will turn from the greater pressure. But, unless it can be guaranteed that the style of each partner is identical all through the stroke, 'rowing round' does not prove a superiority of work.

PAIR OARS-AN IMMINENT FOUL.

We have said that good watermen will sit a pair where bad ones will roll. So far so good. But good watermen, first beginning practice with each other, must not assume that because they do not roll their uniformity is therefore proved. Their power of balance can keep the boat upright, even though there may be at first some inaccuracies of work. Thus to balance a boat requires a certain amount of exertion; in a race, at this stage, this labour of balancing would take something off the power of the stroke. Besides, until the two oars work with similar pressure through the whole stroke, the keel cannot be travelling dead straight. Steady though good men may be at scratch, they will gain in pace as they continue to practise, and insensibly assimilate their action. With bad watermen cessation of rolling is a sign that the styles have at last assimilated; with good watermen the deduction is not necessarily sound.

In old days pair-oars rowed without rudders. The two oars guided the ship. It was best to let the stronger man steer. He could thus set his partner to do his best all the way in a race, could ease an over or two, or lay on that much extra, from stroke to stroke, according as the stern-post required balancing on the landmark which had been selected as its point d'appui. To learn each other's strength and to know the course, to know by heart when to lay on for this corner, or to row off for that, was the study of practice and tested watermanship. In modern times a thin metal rudder is usually used, steered as in coxswainless fours. In a beam wind this materially aids pace, it enables the leeward oar to do his full share, instead of paddling while his partner is toiling. Even in still water it is some gain, provided the helm can be easily 'trailed' when not wanted. The facility with which such a pair can be steered tempts men to omit to study that delicate balance of a boat's stern on its point which was the acme of art before rudders came in. We have seen a (rudderless) pair leave a wake up Henley reach, from island to point, on a glassy evening, as straight as if a surveyor's line had been stretched there. In fact, to steer such a pair, with a practical partner, was, if anything, easier to some men than to steer an eight. The stern-post lay in view of the oarsman, and could be adjusted on its point like a gun barrel, whereas the actual bows of an eight are unseen by a coxswain.

Except a sculling boat, a pair-oar is the fastest starting of all craft; but if it is thus easy to set in motion at the outset of a race, it is plain that it can be spurted later on as suddenly. Bearing this in mind, there is no object in starting a pair in a race at a speed which cannot go all the way. There is as much scope for staying in a pair as in an eight; more in fact, for the pair takes the longer to do the same distance as the eight. The start should be quick, but it is best to keep a stroke or two per minute in hand for a rush hereafter, if needed, when the pulse of the enemy has been felt, and when partners have warmed to their work.

Pairs are best rowed with oars somewhat smaller all round than those which are used for eights or fours. The pair, more than any other craft, requires to be caught sharp and light; an oar that is not too long in the shank nor too big in the blade best accomplishes this. 'Dimensions' recommended for 'work' in various craft will be found scheduled elsewhere in this volume.

To conclude the subject of pairs, it may be added, if partners wish to assimilate, they must make up their minds to avoid recrimination. If the boat goes amiss say, or assume, 'it is I,' not 'you,' who is to blame. Keep cool and keep your head in a race. If the steersman bids 'easy' half a stroke, be prompt in so doing. To delay to right the course at the correct instant may take the ship lengths out of her course. A stroke eased in time, like a stitch, often saves nine, and perhaps obviates sticking in the bank.

* * *

CLOSE QUARTERS.

CHAPTER X.

SCULLING.

Sculling needs more precision and more watermanship than rowing. The strongest man only wastes his strength in sculling if he fails to obtain even work for each hand. A pair-oar requires more practice to bring it to perfection than any other boat manned by oars, but a sculler requires considerably more practice than any pair of oarsmen. Strength he must have in proportion to his weight, if he is to soar above mediocrity, but strength alone will not avail him unless he gets his hands well together.

His sculls will overlap more or less. It is practically immaterial which hand he rows uppermost; the upper hand has a trifle of advantage, and for this reason Oxonians, whose course is a left-hand one, usually scull left hand over. The first difficulty which an embryo sculler has to contend with is that of attaining uniform pressure with square body and square legs upon a pair of arms which are not uniformly placed. One arm has to give way to another to enable the hands to clear each other when they cross; and yet while they do this the blades which they control should be buried to a uniform depth. How to attain this give-and-take action of the arms is better shown by even a moderate performer in five minutes of practical illustration than by reams of book instruction.

The aspirant to sculling honours had better, when commencing to learn, take his first lesson in a gig. A wager boat will be too unsteady, and will retard his practice; 'skiffs' are usually to be obtained only as teach boats with work at sixes and sevens. A dingey buries too much on the stroke, and spoils style. The beginner should find a stiff pair of sculls, true made, and overlapping about the width of his hands. He should ask some proficient to examine and to try his sculls, and to tell him by the feel whether they are really a pair. The best makers of oars and sculls too often turn out sculls which are not 'pairs,' and when this is the case the action of him who uses them cannot be expected to be even on both sides of his frame. Having got suitable sculls, let the sculler arrange his stretcher just a shade shorter than he would have it for rowing. He can clear his knees with a shorter stretcher when sculling than when rowing, as he can easily see for himself. A stretcher should always be as short as is compatible with clearing the knees.

Whether or not the pupil is proficient in sliding, he had better keep a fixed seat while learning the rudiments of sculling; it will give him less to think about; he might unconsciously contract faults in sliding while fixing his mind elsewhere-in the direction of his new implements.

He should see that his rowlocks are roomy. In most gigs there is a want of room between thowl and stopper. A sculler requires a wider rowlock than an oarsman, because his scull goes forward to an acuter angle than an oar, with the same reach of body. Nothing puts out a sculler's hands more than a recoil of the scull from the stopper, for want of room to reach out. The sculler should examine whether his rowlocks are true; the sills of them should be horizontal, not inclined, and most of all not inclined from stern to bow; the latter defect will at once make him scull deep. Next, let him examine his thowl. This should be clean faced, not 'grooved' by the upper edge of the loom of oars which have been handled by operators who feather under water, and who thus force at the finish with the upper edge and not with the flat back of the loom. Half the hack gigs that are on hire will be found to have rowlocks so worn, grooved, and disfigured, that not the best sculler in the world can lay his strength out on them until he has filed them into shape. The thowl should show a flush surface, and rake just the smallest trifle aft, so as to hold the blade just a fraction of an angle less than a rectangle to the water, but this 'rake' should be very slight.

Having now got his tools correct, the workman will have no excuse for grumbling at them if he fails to do well. Let him begin by paddling gently and slowly. He had better not attempt to work hard. If he sees some other sculler shooting past him in a similar boat, he must sink all jealousy. Every motion which he makes in a stroke is now laying the foundation of habit and of mechanical action hereafter; hence he must give his whole mind to each stroke, and be content to go to work steadily and carefully. He must feel his feet against his stretcher, both legs pressing evenly. He must hold his sculls in his fingers (not his fists), and let the top joint of each thumb cap the scull. This is better than bringing the thumb under the scull; it gives the wrists more play, and tends to avoid cramp of the forearm. He must endeavour to do his main work with his body and legs, when he has laid hold of the water. He should keep his arms rigid, and lean well back. Just as he passes the perpendicular his hands will begin to cross each other. Whichever hand he prefers to row over, he should stick to. When the hands begin to cross, he should still try to keep the arms stiff, and to clear the way by slightly lowering one hand and raising the other. Not until his hands have opened out again after having crossed should he begin to bend his arms and to bring the stroke home to the chest. He should try to bend each arm simultaneously and to the same extent, and to bring each hand up to his breast almost at his ribs, at equal elevations. He must try to feather both sculls sharply and simultaneously.

If he finds any difficulty in this, he will do well to give himself a private lesson on this point before he proceeds further. He can sit still and lay his sculls in the rowlocks, and thus practise turning the wrists sharply, on and off the feather, till he begins to feel more handy in this motion.

On the recovery he should shoot his hands out briskly, the body following but not waiting for the hands to extend-just as in a 'rowing' recovery. When the recovering hands begin to cross each other the lower and upper must respectively give way, and so soon as they open out after the cross, they should once more resume the same plane, and extend equally, so as to be ready to grip the water simultaneously for the succeeding stroke.

Very few scullers realise the great importance of even action of wrists. If one scull hangs in the water a fraction of a second more than another, or buries deeper, or skims lighter, the two hands at that moment are not working evenly. Therefore the boat is not travelling in a straight line; therefore she will sooner or later, may be in the latter half of the very same stroke, have to be brought back to her course. In order to bring her back, the hand which, earlier, was doing the greater work, must now do less. Therefore the boat has not only performed a zigzag during the stroke, but also she has been, while so meandering, propelled by less than her full available forces, first one hand falling off through clumsiness, and afterwards the other hand shutting off some work, in order to equalise matters.

As the sculler becomes more used to his action, he will find his boat keep more even. At first he will be repeatedly putting more force on one hand than on another, and will have to rectify his course by counterwork with the neglected hand. Some scullers, though otherwise good, never steer well. They do not watch their stern-post, to see if they go evenly at each stroke; still less, if they see a slight deflection to one hand after one stroke, do they at once rectify the deviation by extra pressure on the other hand during the ensuing stroke. A good steerer in sculling will correct his course even to half a stroke; if through a bend, or a wave, or other cause, he sees one hand has taken the other a little round by the time that the sculls are crossing, he will row the other hand home a trifle sharper, and so bring the keel straight by the time he feathers. When a sculler gets more settled to his work, and has got over the first difficulty of clearing his hands at the crossing, he will begin to acquire the knack of bringing the boat round to one hand, without any distinct extra tug of that scull. He will press a trifle more with the one foot, and will throw a little more of his weight on to the one scull, and so produce the desired effect on his boat.

When a sculler promotes himself to a light boat, he must be very careful not to lose the knack of even turns of wrists which he has been so assiduously studying in his tub. In the wager boat, far more than in the tub, is the action of the sculler's body affected and his labour crippled by any uneven action of either hand. The gig did not roll if one hand went into the water an infinitesimal fraction of a second sooner, or came out that much later than the other hand. But the fragile sculling boat, with no keel, and about thirteen inches of beam, resents these liberties, and requires 'sitting' in addition, whenever any inequality of work takes her off her balance. The sculler must especially guard against feathering under water. He is more tempted to do so now, while he is in an unsteady boat, than when he was in his sober-going gig. He feels instinctively that if he lets his blades rest flat on the water for the instant, when his stroke concludes, he obtains for the moment a rectification of balance; the flat blades stop rolling to either side; when he has thus steadied his craft, then he can essay to lift his blades and to get forward. If he once yields to this insidious temptation, he runs the risk of spoiling himself as a sculler, and of ensuring that he will never rise beyond mediocrity. The hang back, and the sloppy feather, which are to be seen in so many second-class scullers, may almost invariably, if the history of the sculler be known, be traced to want of nerve and of confidence in early days to feather boldly, and to lift the sculls sharp from the water, regardless of rolling. Of course, for the nonce, the sculler can sit steadier, and therefore make more progress, if he thus steadies his craft with his blades momentarily flat; and it is because of this fact that so many beginners are seduced into the trick. But let the sculler pluck up courage, and endeavour to imagine himself still afloat in his gig. Let him turn his wrists as sharply as when he was in her, and lift his blades boldly out, not even caring if he rolls clean over. There really is little chance of his so capsizing. If he rolls, his one blade or other floats in the water, and being strung over at the rowlock, cannot well let his boat turn over, so long as he holds on to the handle. Meantime, he must sit tight to his boat, and use his feet to balance her with his body. He must not try to row too fast a stroke; a quick stroke hides faults, and speed tends to keep a light craft on an even keel so long as her crew are fresh; but style is not learned while oarsmen or scullers are straining their utmost. If the sculler finds that he really cannot make progress in his wager boat, he must assume that he wants another spell of practice in his tub, and must revert again to her for a week or two, or more. If he will only persevere in studying even and simultaneous action of hands, he will get his reward in time.

He should not be ambitious to race too soon. Many a young sculler spoils himself by aspiring to junior scullers' races before he is ripe for racing. It is a temptation to have a 'flutter,' just to see how one gets on, but it is of no use to race unless the competitor has had some gallops beforehand; and it is in trying to row a fast stroke before they can thoroughly sit a boat that so many scullers sow seeds of bad style, which stick to them long afterwards, and perhaps always. When at last the sculler has learned to sit his boat, to drop his hands in simultaneously, to feel an even pressure with both blades, to see his stern-post hold on true, and not waver from side to side; when he is able to drop and turn both wrists at the same instant, to lift both blades clean away from the water, and to shoot out his hands without fouling either his knees or the water, then he has mastered more than half the scullers of the day-even though he can only perform thus for half-a-dozen strokes at a time without encountering a roll. He can now lay his weight well on his sculls, and can make his boat travel. He will have done well if all this time he has abstained from indulging in a slide; he does not need one as yet, he is not racing, and the fewer things he has to think about the better chance he has of being able to devote his attention to acquiring even hands and a tight seat. Once let him gain these accomplishments, and he can then take to his slide, and in his first race go by many an opponent who started sculling long before him, but who began at once in a wager boat and on a slide.

A SPILL.

A very good amateur sculler-J. E. Parker, winner of the Wingfield Sculls in 1863-used to say that he always went back until his sculls came out of the water of their own accord. As a piece of chaff, it used to be said of him, by his friends, that there was a greasy patch on his fore canvas, where his head came in contact with it at the end of his stroke. Of course this was only a jest, but undoubtedly Parker swung farther back than most scullers, perhaps more than any amateur. The secret of his pace, which was indisputable, as also his staying power, probably lay to a great extent in this long back swing of his. He also sculled exceedingly cleanly, his hands worked in perfect unison, and his blades came out clean and sharp. The writer cannot recall any sculler whose blades were so clean, save Hanlan and also W. S. Unwin in 1886. Much of the secret of each of these scullers lay in the evenness of their hands; they wasted no power. F. Playford, junior, was a more powerful sculler, and apparently faster than either of the above-named amateurs (ceteris paribus as to slides, qua Parker); but taking his reach and weight into consideration, it is not to be wondered if Playford was in his day the best of all Wingfield winners. The late Mr. Casamajor was a great sculler. He also had a very long back swing, and clean blades. He never had such tough opponents to beat as had Playford, but at least it could be said of him that he was unbeaten in public in any race.

Steerage apparatus is in these days fitted to many a sculling boat. The writer, as an old stager, is bound to admit that he had retired from active work before such mechanism was used, he therefore cannot speak practically as to its value for racing. So far as he has watched its use by scullers, he is induced to look upon the contrivance with suspicion. On a stormy day, with beam wind for a considerable part of the course, such an appendage will undoubtedly assist a sculler. It will save him from having an arm almost idle in his lap during heavy squalls. But on fairly smooth days, or when wind is simply ahead, a rudder must surely detract more from pace (by reason of the water which it catches; even when simply on the trail) than it ever will save by obviating the operation of rowing a boat round by the hand to direct her course. Again, the fittings which carry the rudder must, when the rudder is unshipped, hold a certain amount of water to the detriment of speed. Also, if a boat is pressed for a spurt, there must be some risk of the tiller of the rudder (however delicately made), and the wires which control it, pulling and drawing the water. When the canvas ducks under water on recovery, it is important that the water should run off freely when the boat springs to the stroke. If a post stands up at the stern, however thin and metallic, this must to some degree check the flow off of the water. Again, the feet must be moved to guide this rudder; while they are thus shifting, the fullest power of the legs can hardly be applied. A sculler who is in good practice, and who is at home with his boat and sculls, should be able to feel his boat's course through each stroke, and to adjust her at any one stroke if she has deviated during the preceding one. On the whole, barring circumstances such as a stiff westerly wind at Henley, or a gale on the tideway course, scullers will do best without rudders; and if a competitor desires to provide against the contingency of weather which will make a rudder advantageous, he had better, if he can, have a spare boat fitted for that purpose, so that if the water after all is smooth he will not be carrying any projecting metal at his stern to draw the water and to check his pace.

There is another objection to the use of rudders, especially for young scullers. It tempts them to rely on the rudder to rectify their course, instead of studying even play of hands so that the boat may have no excuse for deviating at all in smooth water.

All that has been said of the use of slides applies equally to sculling as to rowing. The leg action, as compared to swing, should be just the same when sculling as in rowing. That is, the slide should last as long as the swing. Now, in sculling, a man should go back much further than he does when rowing an oar. When he has an oar in his hand there is a limit to the distance to which he can spring back with good effect. His oar describes an arc; when he has gone back beyond a certain distance the butt of his oar-handle will come at the middle of his breast or even more inside the boat. In such a position he cannot finish squarely and with good effect. Therefore he cannot go back ad lib. But the sculler is always placed evenly to his work, it is not on one side of him more than another. He should, when laying himself out for pace, swing back so far that his sculls come out just as his hands touch his ribs. In a wager boat, when well practised, he can afford to let his sculls overlap as much as six or even seven inches. But, after all, the extent of overlap is a matter of taste with so many scullers, that it would be unwise to lay down any hard and fast rule, beyond saying that at least the handles should overlap four inches, or, what is much the same, one hand should at least cover the other when the sculls lie in the rowlocks at right angles to the keel.

To return to the slide in sculling. Since the back swing should be longer in sculling than in rowing, and as there is a limit to the length which any pair of legs can slide, and since also it has been laid down as a rule that both when sculling and when rowing the slide should be economised so that it may last as long as the swing lasts, the reader will gather that the legs will have to extend more gradually when sliding to sculls than when sliding to oars. Therefore a man accustomed to row on slides, and whose legs are more or less habituated to a certain extension coupled with swing when rowing, must keep a watch upon himself when sculling lest his rowing habits should make him finish his slide prematurely, when he needs to prolong his swing for sculling. Unless his slide lasts out his swing, his finish, after legs have been extended, will only press the boat without propelling her.

In rowing an oarsman is guilty of fault if he meets or even pulls up to his oar. In sculling, with a very long swing back it is not a fault to commence the recovery of the body while the hands are still completing their journey home to the ribs. The body should not drop, nor slouch over the sculls while thus meeting them. It should recover with open chest and head well up, simply pulling itself up slightly, to start the back swing, by the handles of the sculls as they come home for the last three or four inches of their journey. Casamajor always recovered then, so did Hanlan, so did Parker, and any sculler who does likewise will sin (if he does sin in the opinion of some hypercritics of style) in first-class company. The fact is, this very long swing back (with straight arms) entails much recovery, and yet materially adds to pace. The sculler can afford to ease his recovery in return for the strain of his long stroke. Also lest his long swing should press the boat's bows, he can ease her recovery as well as his own, so soon as the main force of the long drag comes to an end. In the writer's opinion, unless a sculler really does go back à la Casamajor & Co. with straight arms and stiff back, and until his sculls come out of the water almost of their own accord as he brings his hands in, it is not an advantage for him to pull himself up to his handles to this trifling extent at the finish. A sculler who does not swing back further than when he is rowing, will do best to row his sculls home just as he would an oar.

In racing all men like a lead. If a sculler can take a lead with his longest stroke, swinging back as far as he can, and can feel that he is not doing a stroke too fast for his stamina, by all means let him do so; but let him be careful not to hurry his stroke and thereby to shorten his back swing simply for the sake of a lead. Many a long-swing sculler spoils his style, at all events for the moment, by sprinting and trying to cut his opponent down. It is almost best for him if he finds that his opponent has the pace of him, and if he therefore relapses to his proper style, and bides his time. If he does so, he will go all the faster over the course for sticking to his style regardless of momentary lead. Some scullers lay out their work for pace, regardless of lasting power. When Chambers rowed Green in 1863, he tried to head the Australian, flurried himself, shortened his giant reach, lost pace, and, after all, lost the lead. When he realised that, force pace as much as he could, Green was too speedy, the Tyne man settled to his long sweep, and at once went all the faster, though now sculling a slower stroke. It was not long before Green began to come back to him, and the result of that match is history.

Similarly, the writer recollects seeing the celebrated Casamajor win the Diamonds for the last time, in 1861. He was opposed by Messrs. G. R. Cox and E. D. Brickwood. Cox was a sculler who laid himself out for fast starting: he used very small blades, he did not swing further back than when rowing, and he sculled a very rapid stroke. He had led both Casamajor and H. Kelley in a friendly spin earlier in the year, and it was said that it was to vindicate his reputation as being still the best sculler of the day that the old unbeaten amateur once more entered for the Diamonds, where he knew he would encounter Cox in earnest, and no longer in play. (Casamajor was by no means in good health, and the grave closed over him in the following August.)

In the race in question Cox darted away with the lead. Casamajor had hitherto led all opponents in real racing, and amour propre seemed to prompt him to bid for the lead against the new flyer; he quickened and quickened his stroke, till his long swing back vanished, and his boat danced up and down, but he could not hold Cox. Brickwood was last, rowing his own style, and sculling longest of the three. After passing the Farm gate, Casamajor suddenly changed his style, and went back to his old swing. Maybe, Cox had already begun to come to the end of his tether; but, be that as it may, from the instant that Casamajor re-adopted his old swing back, he held Cox. (It did not look as if the pace was really falling off, for both the leaders were still drawing away from Brickwood.) In another minute Casamajor began to draw up to the leader, still swinging back as before. Then he went ahead, and all was over. Brickwood in the end rowed down Cox, and came in a good second. Casamajor at that time edited the 'Field' aquatics. His own description therein of himself in the race seems to imply that he realised how he had at first thrown away his speed by bidding for the lead, and that he purposely, and not unconsciously, changed his style about the end of the first minute and a half of the race. His description of his own sculling at that juncture (modestly penned) was 'now rowing longer and with all his power.' This was quite true-he was not using his full power until he relapsed to his old style. These illustrations of two of the best scullers ever seen bidding for impossible leads, and then realising their mistakes in time, may be taken to heart by all modern and future aspirants to sculling honour.

SCULLING RACE, WITH PILOTS IN EIGHT-OARS.

Another reason why scullers like a lead is that it saves them from being 'washed' by a leader, and, conversely, enables them to 'wash an opponent.' In old days of boat-racing under the old code, lead was of importance, to save water being taken. Under new rules of boat-racing (which figure elsewhere in this volume), water can only be taken at peril. There is not, therefore, so much importance in lead as of old. As to 'wash,' if a man can sit a sculling boat, he does not care much for wash. Anyhow, he can, if in his own water, and if his adversary crosses him, steer exactly in his leader's wake; the wash then spreads like a swallow's tail on either side of the sternmost man, and does not affect him. His opponent must get out of his way, if not overtaken, so he need not disturb himself; and if the leader insists on steering to right or left simply to direct the wash, he loses more ground by this meandering than even the pursuer will lose by the slight perturbations of a sculling boat's wash for a few strokes. It is good practice for any sculler to take his boat now and then in the wake of another sculler, and try to 'bump' him. It will teach him how to sit his boat under such circumstances, and he will be surprised before long to find out how little he cares for being washed by another sculler.

A sculler, when practising over a course, especially when water is smooth, may with advantage time himself from day to day at various points of the course. He will thus find out what his best pace is, and will ascertain whether his speed materially falls off towards the end, if he forces extra pace at the start or halfway or so on. He must be careful to judge proportionately of times and distances, and not positively; for streams may vary, and so may wind.

On the tideway in sculling matches, it is usual for pilots to conduct scullers. The pilot sits in the bow of an eight. The sculler may rely on the pilot to signal to him whether he is in the required direction; but when he once knows that his boat points right, he should note where her stern points, just as if he were steering upon his own resources, and should endeavour so to regulate his hands that his stern keeps straight, as shown by some distant landmark which he selects. This straight line he should then maintain to the best of his ability, bringing his stern-post back to it, if it deflects, until his pilot again signals to him to change his course, for rounding some curve or for clearing some obstacle. The pilot cannot inform his charge of each small inaccuracy which leads eventually to deflection from the correct line; this the sculler must provide against on his own account. It is only when the course has to be changed, or when the sculler has palpably gone out of his course, that the signals of the pilot come into play. Some scullers seem to make up their minds to leave everything to their pilots; the result is that their boats are never in a straight line; first they go astray to one side, and then, when signalled back, they take a stroll to the other side. Such scullers naturally handicap themselves greatly by thus losing ground through these tortuous wanderings. The simplest method of signalling by pilot is to hold a white handkerchief. In the right or left hand it means 'pull right or left,' respectively. When down, it means 'boat straight and keep it so.' If the pilot gets far astern, or if dangers are ahead which are beyond pilotage, taking off the hat means 'look out for yourself.'

PUMPED OUT.

When wind is abeam, a pilot cutter can materially aid a sculler by bringing its bow close on his windward quarter, thereby sheltering his stern from the action of the wind. Races such as that of Messrs. Lowndes and Payne for the Wingfield Sculls in 1880, when Mr. Payne did not row his opponent down until the last mile had well begun, should remind all scullers that a race is never lost till it is won, and that, however beaten you may feel, it is possible that your opponent feels even worse, and that he may show it in the next few strokes.

* * *

THE LAST OF THE THAMES WHERRIES.

CHAPTER XI.

BOAT-BUILDING AND DIMENSIONS.

The 'trim built wherry' of song has been improved off the face of the Thames. Originally it was purely a passenger craft: it contained space for two or more sitters in the stern, and was fitted for two pair of sculls or a pair of oars at option. Larger wherries were also built, 'randan' rig (for a pair of oars with a sculler amidships, or three pairs of sculls at option). Such boats were the passenger craft of the silent highway before steamers destroyed the watermen's trade. When match racing came into vogue, wherries began to be constructed for purely racing purposes; they had but one seat, for the sculler, and were carried as fine as they could be, at either end, with regard to the surf which they often had to encounter. Their beam on the waterline was reduced to a minimum; but at the same time it was necessary, for mechanical purposes, that the gunwale, at the points where the rowlocks were placed, should be of sufficient width to enable the sculler to obtain the necessary leverage and elevation of his sculls. The gunwale was accordingly flared out wide at these points, above the waterline. This flared gunwale had nothing to do with the flotation of the boat; it was in effect nothing more than a wooden outrigger, and it was this which eventually suggested to the brain of old Harry Clasper the idea of constructing an iron outrigger, thereby enabling the beam to be reduced, and at the same time the sculling leverage to be preserved without the encumbrance of the top hamper of these flared gunwales. Such was the old wager wherry, and its later development of the wager outrigger.

We have said that the wherry is obsolete. Modern watermen use, for passenger purposes, a craft called a 'skiff.' She is an improvement on the 'gig,' a vessel which came into vogue on the Thames for amateur pleasure purposes about the year 1830. The 'gig' was originally adopted from naval ideas. She had a flush gunwale, and the rowlocks were placed on the top of it. So soon as the outrigger came in, oarsmen realised the advantage to be gained by applying it to the gig, in a modified form. Half-outrigged gigs became common; they had a reduced beam, and commanded more speed; they were used for cruising purposes as well as for racing. Many regattas offered prizes for pair oars with coxswains in outrigged gigs. Theoretically a gig was supposed to be 'clinker' built, i.e. each of her timbers were so attached to each other that the lower edge of each upper timber overlapped the upper edge of the timber below it, the timbers being 'clincked,' hence the name. 'Carvel' (or caravel) build is that in which the timbers lie flush to each other, presenting a smooth surface. This offers less resistance, and before long builders constructed so-called 'gigs' for racing purposes, which were carvel built. From this it was but a step to build racing gigs with but two or even one 'streak' only, i.e. the side of the hull, instead of being constructed of several planks fastened together, was made of one, or at most two planks. The ends of the vessel were open-uncanvassed, and in this respect only was there anything in common with a 'gig' proper. This system of stealing advantages by tricks of build caused gig races to be fruitful sources of squabbles, until regatta committees recognised the importance of laying down conditions as to build when advertising their races.

To return to gigs proper. This craft did not find the same favour fifty years ago with the professional classes that it did with amateurs. The wherry was still adhered to for traffic; but meantime Thames fishermen, especially those who plied flounder fishery on the upper tideway, used what is called a skiff; a shorter boat, with as much beam as the largest wherry, a bluff bow, and flared rowlocks. She was strongly built, adapted to carry heavy burdens, and, by reason of being shorter, was easier to turn, and handier for short cruises. A similar class of boat, but often rougher and more provincial in construction, was to be found in use at some of the up-river ferries. The wherry, when once under way, had more speed than the skiff, but when long row-boat voyages ceased in consequence of the introduction of steamers, the advantage of the skiff over the wherry was recognised by watermen. Their jobs came down to ferrying, to taking passengers on board vessels lying in the stream, and such like work; and for these services speed was not so important as handiness in turning.

During the last fifteen years the skiff build has found more favour for pleasure purposes than the gig. The outrigged gig is liable to entanglement of rowlock in locks, and where craft are crowded, as at regattas. (It would be a salutary matter if the Thames Conservancy would peremptorily forbid the presence of any such craft at Henley Regatta.) Inrigged craft glide off each other when gunwales collide, whereas outriggers foul rowlocks of other boats, and cause delay and even accidents. An outrigged gig has two alternative disadvantages, compared to the skiff build; if she is as narrow at the waterline as the skiff, her flush gunwale reduces the leverage for oar or scull. If, on the other hand, she is built to afford full leverage, this entails more beam on the waterline than in a skiff, the rowlocks of which are raised and flared above the gunwale. Hence it is that the skiff build is gradually superseding the once universally popular gig.

A dingey is a short craft, originally designed as a sort of tender to a yacht, but adopted for pleasure purposes on the Thames for nearly half a century. It is sometimes built with a flush gunwale like a gig, but more commonly with flared rowlocks like a skiff, thereby affording the required leverage for swells, while at the same time reducing the beam on the waterline.

Besides the above mentioned craft, which are designed to carry at least two oarsmen (or scullers) and a coxswain, modern boat-builders construct what are called sculling dingies and gigs, which are fitted with only one pair of rowlocks, and are intended mainly for occupation by a single sculler, though they will at a pinch carry sitters both in the stern sheets and in the bows. They also build sailing gigs and dingies, which are usually fitted with a 'centreboard,' and are of greater beam than those specially designed for rowing or sculling; though they can be also propelled by oars or sculls when required, they are less handy for the latter purposes, in consequence of their construction for the double duties of both sailing and oarsmanship. The following are dimensions commonly adopted by builders, such as Messrs. Salter of Oxford, for various classes of gigs, dingies, and pleasure skiffs:-

Length. Beam.

Gig, pair-oared, inrigged 22 ft. 3 ft. 9 in.

ditto randan 25 ft. 3 ft. 9 in.

Skiffs, pair-oared 25 ft. 4 ft. 0 in.

ditto 23 ft. 4 ft. 6 in.

ditto 20 ft. 5 ft. 0 in.

The variations in beam being in such vessels designed conversely as regards the lengths, in order to obtain approximate equivalent of displacement-

Length. Beam.

Skiffs, randan 26 ft. to 27 ft. 4 ft. 0 in.

ditto 25 ft. 4 ft. 6 in. to 5 ft

Where the beam ranges as high as 5 feet the vessel will carry about four sitters in the stern. The narrower craft carry about two, sitting abreast in the stern.

Dingies (inrigged) range from about 12 feet in length with 4 feet beam to 16 feet in length with about 3 ft. 6 in. beam.

Some dingies are built as short as 9 feet, but they command but little speed, and are useful only as tenders to larger vessels for the purpose of going ashore, &c. Their shortness makes them handy to turn, and compensates in short journeys for their want of speed.

The prices of the various builds enumerated above depend much upon the materials used, whether oak, mahogany, cedar, or pine; and also upon length of keel, and upon fittings, such as oars, sculls, cushions, stern-rails, &c., masts and sails. Figures vary from about 40l. for a best quality randan skiff, all found, to as low as 20l. for a gig, and 12l. for a dingey, turned out new from the builder's yard.

It is customary to fit all rowing boats such as above described with a hole in the bow seat, and also in the flooring below, in order to carry a lug or sprit sail when required; but the shallow draught of such vessels as are not fitted with centreboards causes them to make a good deal of leeway and so disables them from sailing near the wind.

Racing boats are generally built of cedar, sometimes of white pine. The history of the introduction of the various improvements of outriggers, keelless boats, and sliding seats, has been given in other chapters. We propose here simply to give a few samples of dimensions of racing boats.

Various builders have various lines, and no exact fixed scale can be laid down as correct more than another.

Dimensions of a sculling-boat

recently used by Bubear in a sculling match

for the 'Sportsman Challenge Cup,'

built by Jack Clasper.

Length 31 ft. 0 in.

Width 0 ft. 11 in.

Depth, amidships 0 ft. 5 3?4 in.

? forward 0 ft. 3 1?2 in.

? sternpost 0 ft. 2 1?4 in.

Historical Eight-oars (Keelless).

Length. Beam. Builder.

1. Oxford boat,[9] 1857 54 ft. 0 in. 2 ft. 21?2 in. Mat Taylor.

(at No. 3's rowlock)

2. Eton, 1863 57 ft. 0 in. 2 ft. 1 in. Mat Taylor.

Depth at stern 6 in.

3. Radley, 1858 56 ft. 0 in. 2 ft. 03?4 in. Sewell, for King.

Depth at stern 71?2 in.

4. Oxford, 1878 57 ft. 0 in. 1 ft. 10 in. Swaddell & Winship.

Depth at stern 6 in.

5. Oxford, 1883 58 ft. 0 in. 1 ft. 101?2 in. J. Clasper.

Depth at stern 61?2 in.

[9] The first keelless eight that won a University match.

These boats are selected because each in its turn won some reputation, and also because they exemplify the builds of different constructors.

No. 1 was always highly esteemed by those who rowed in her.

No. 2 carried Eton at Henley Regatta from 1863 to 1870 or 1871.

No 3 was eulogised by Mr. T. Egan in 'Bell's Life,' on the occasion of her début in the above-mentioned school match v. Eton. She retained a high reputation for several seasons, was once specially borrowed by Corpus (Oxon) during the summer eights, and was said by that crew to be a vast improvement on their own ship.

No 4 carried Oxford from 1878 to 1882 inclusive, losing only the match in 1879, in which year the crew and not the boat were to blame.

No. 5, after one or two trials, was in 1883 found to be faster than No. 4 (which was then getting old!), and in her the Oxonians won a rather unexpected victory; odds of 3 to 1 being laid against them.

In addition to these builds, the dimensions recorded by the well-known authority 'Argonaut,' in his standard work on 'Boat Racing,' are here given. That writer does not commit himself to saying that they are the best, but simply states that they are the 'average dimensions' of modern racing boats. Unfortunately, the writer cannot trace the dimensions of the celebrated 'Chester' boat, Mat Taylor's first keelless chef-d'?uvre, but he recollects that her length was only 54 feet; and her stretchers were built into her and were fixed.

The cost of a racing eight, with all fittings, is about 55l. Some builders will build at as low a price as 50l., especially for a crack crew, or for an important race, because the notoriety of the vessel, if successful, naturally acts as an advertisement. A four-oar costs 35l. to 40l.; a pair-oar 20l. to 25l.; and a sculling boat 12l. We have known some builders ask 15l. for a sculling boat. On the whole, racing boats are from eight to ten per cent. cheaper nowadays than they were a quarter of a century ago. Although the introduction of sliding seats necessarily adds to the expense of making them, competition seems to have brought down the prices somewhat.

'Argonaut's' Dimensions of Modern Boats.

Particulars Racing

Eight Racing Fours Pair

Oars Sculling

Boats

With

Cox. Without

Cox.

ft. in. ft. in. ft. in. ft. in. ft. in.

Length of boat 58 6 41 0 40 0 34 4 30 0

Breadth (over all) 2 0 1 9 1 8 1 4 3?8 1 4 [10]

Depth, amidships 1 1 1?2 1 0 1?2 1 0 0 10 1?2 0 8 1?2

? stem 0 8 0 7 1?4 0 7 1?2 0 4 1?4 0 3 1?2

? stern 0 7 1?4 0 6 3?4 0 6 1?2 0 3 3?4 0 2 3?4

Distance from seat to thowl[11] 0 5 0 5 0 5 0 4 1?2 0 4

Height of work from level of slide 0 7 3?4 0 7 3?4 0 7 3?4 0 7 1?2 0 7 1?2

Length of slide 1 4 1 4 1 4 1 5 1 5 1?2

Length of amidship oars { 12 6 12 6 12 6 - -

Buttoned at 3 6 3 5 1?2 3 5 1?2 - -

Length of bow and stroke oars { 12 4 12 4 12 4 12 3 -

Buttoned at 3 4 1?2 3 4 1?2 3 4 1?2 3 4 -

Length of sculls { - - - - { 10 0

Buttoned at - - - - 2 8

Space between cox.'s thwart and stroke's stretcher

(cox.'s thwart 18 inches deep) } 1 8 1 8 - - -

[10] Breadth on boat, 111?4 inches.

[11] Measured from front edge of slide to plane of thowl.

The writer thinks, and believes that 'Argonaut' would agree with him, that these recorded average dimensions could be improved upon in divers respects, e.g. as to oars, for sliding seats the length 'inboard' should not be less than 3 ft. 71?2 in. to 3 ft. 8 in.; otherwise, when the oarsman swings back there is not sufficient length of handle to enable his outside hand to finish square to his chest, and with the elbow well past the side. The sliding-seat oar requires to be at least 10 inches longer inboard than the fixed-seat oar, for the above reason; and in order to counterpoise this extra leverage, it is customary to use blades an inch wider for slides than for fixed seats, viz. 6 inches wide at the greatest breadth, instead of 5 inches as of old.

Again, as to distance of the plane of the thowl perpendicularly from that of the front of the slide when full forward. This should not be less than 61?2 inches, in the writer's opinion, even with a 16-inch slide. If the oarsman slides nearer than the above to his work, he does not gain; for much of his force is thus expended in jamming the oar back against the rowlock, rather than in propelling the boat. He 'feels' extra resistance, and may accordingly delude himself that he is doing more work, if the slides close up; but in reality he is wasting his powers.

In modern racing boats, the men slide too close to their work; and if any builder will have the courage to set his men further aft than is the custom (say about 61?2 to 7 inches), he will find his ship travel all the faster.

As to shapes of hull: the earliest Mat Taylor boats have never been surpassed, in the writer's opinion, and were much faster than the modern builds. The peculiarity of Mat Taylor's build was that he put his greatest beam well forward, about No. 3's middle or seat. Such boats held more 'way' than more modern craft, which are fullest amidships.

Builders of the present day construct as if the only problem which they had to solve was to force a hole through the water in front of the boat. This is not all that is necessary in order to get a boat to travel well. A racing boat leaves a vacuum behind her, and until that is filled she is sucked back into that vacuum.

A boat built like the half of a split porcupine's quill could enter the water with the least resistance, but would leave it with the greatest; in fact, she would not travel at all, because her bluff stern would create a sudden vacuum behind her, which would retard her progress. This is a reductio ad absurdum, but it shows the effect of having the greatest beam too far aft. The problem to be solved in designing the lines of a boat is so to arrange her entry into the water, that what she displaces in front may with greatest ease flow aft to fill the vacuum aft which she leaves as she progresses. Otherwise she pushes a heavy wave in front of her, and drags another behind her. If anyone will watch the bank as a racing eight passes, noting the level of the water at a rathole, he will see the level of the stream first rise as the boat comes nearly abreast of his point of observation. Then, as she passes, the water will sink, and after she has passed it will rise again higher than before she neared the spot.

The first rise is caused by the boat pushing a wave in front of her: the following depression is caused by the vacuum which she is leaving behind her, and the final rise by the wave which runs behind her to fill her vacuum. Obviously, the less water the vessel moves the easier she travels. If by any designing the wave pushed in front could be induced to run more or less back to the stern, then the second (following) wave would be more or less reduced in bulk, and the labour would be proportionately lighter.

The finer the lines taper aft, the easier the front wave displaced finds its way to the vacuum aft. Per contra, the more bluff the midship and stern sections, the greater the difficulty in filling the vacuum aft.

Builders hamper themselves by adhering to a red-tape idea that all oarsmen in a boat should be seated at equal distances from each other. So long as designers adhere to this, they require a good deal of beam aft, if Nos. 6, 7 and stroke are of anything like average size. Of course, there must be a minimum of space for each man to reach out in; but there is no reason why in some of the seats the space should not exceed this minimum, e.g. to set the first four men at the minimum, and then to place No. 5 and extra inch past No. 4 and so on, with perhaps stroke and 7 11?2 inches further apart than the forward men, would enable the builder to attain a greater longitudinal displacement at the sternmost part of the boat than he would otherwise require to carry his men. In lieu of this gain, he can then reduce his beam and depth aft, and so make his lines taper more to the stern.

Mat Taylor built on this principle. Detractors used to laugh sometimes to see him chalk off his seats, and say, 'A rowlock here-a seat there.' The fact was, Mat Taylor placed his men, man for man, over the section of vessel built to carry them, allowing the minimum distance for reach in all cases, but by no means tying himself down to that distance where in his opinion the boat required elongating aft. They said he built by rule of thumb; so, perhaps, he did, but his builds have never been surpassed. Modern eights travel faster than of old, thanks to sliding seats and good oarsmanship, but if some of the old lost lines could be now reproduced, the speedy crews of modern days would be speedier still.

We offer one more illustration to show the effect of having too sudden a termination to a boat aft of her greatest beam, or of a certain amount of beam. Let anyone construct two models of racing boat hulls; probably he will not succeed in making two of equal speed, but such as they are he can handicap the speedier in his experiment. Let him place the two models to race, each towed by a line carried over a pulley, with a weight at the end of the line. The weights which tow the two models can be adjusted till the two run dead heats.

Then cut off the stern of one of the models, and bulkhead her, say about coxswain's seat, and let them race once more with the forces which previously produced a dead heat. The model with a docked stern will have become the smaller vessel, and will now weigh less. Nevertheless, she will become decidedly slower than she was before, and will be beaten by her late duplicate.

In order to do justice to this experiment, the weights should tow at a pace equivalent to about four miles or more an hour. It will then be seen that this docked model leaves a whirlpool behind her stern, which is retarding her. This experiment of course exaggerates the principle of full afterlines, and their evil, but it may none the less serve to illustrate the importance of a finer run aft from a point further forward than amidships. En passant, the boat built by Salter of Oxford for the O.U.B.C. in 1865 may be mentioned; her dimensions are not to be traced, but she was specially designed to carry the heaviest man (E. F. Henley) at bow. She was certainly never surpassed by any other boat which Salter built. She won in 1865. In 1866 a heavier crew were in training, and the 1865 boat was supposed to be too small. She was not tried at all at Oxford with the crew. A new boat was built, this time to carry E. F. Henley at 5. When the crew reached Putney the writer felt dissatisfied with the movement of the new boat, and persuaded the crew to try the old one, even though she would be rather too small for them. They sent for her, and launched for a trial paddle the Monday before the race; so soon as they had rowed a dozen strokes in her they stopped, and declared she was the only light boat they had felt that season. They rowed the race in her, and won, and never took the trouble to set foot again in the new and rejected boat.

This victorious boat was then bought by the Oxford Etonians. They won the Grand Challenge of 1866 and 1867 in her, took her to Paris, and there won the eight-oared race at the International Regatta. She was sold and left behind in Paris. The writer suspects that her undeniable speed was mainly owing to the fact that Salter designed some extra displacement at No. 3, in order to carry E. F. Henley at that seat.

* * *

'POETRY.'

CHAPTER XII.

TRAINING.

DIET.

That 'condition' tells in all contests, whether in brain labours such as chess matches or in athletics, is known to children in the schoolroom.

Training is the régime by means of which condition is attained. Its dogmas are of two orders: (1) Those which relate to exercise, (2) those which refer to diet. Diet of itself does not train a man for rowing or any other kind of athletics. What trains is hard work; proper diet keeps the subject up to that work.

The effect of a course of training is twofold. It develops those muscles which are in use for the exercise in question, and it also prepares the internal organs of heart and lungs for the extra strain which will be put upon them during the contest. All muscles tend to develop under exercise, and to dwindle under inaction. The right shoulder and arm of a nail-maker are often out of all proportion to the left; the fingers of a pianist develop activity with practice, or lose it if the instrument be discontinued.

Training is a thorough science, and it is much better understood in these days than when the writer was in active work; and again, the trainers of his day were in their turn far ahead of those of the early years of amateur oarsmanship. From the earliest recorded days of athletic contests, there seems to have been much faith pinned to beefsteaks. When Socrates rebukes Thrasymachus, in the opening pages of Plato's 'Republic,' he speaks of beefsteaks as being the chief subject of interest to Polydamos, who seems to have been a champion of the P.R. of Athens of those days. The beefsteak retains its prestige to the present day, but it is not the ne plus ultra which it was in 1830.

The earliest amateur crews seem to have rowed in many instances without undergoing a course of training and of reduction of fat. But when important matches began to be made, the value of condition was appreciated. Prizefighters had then practical training longer than any other branch of athletics, and it was by no means uncommon for watermen, when matched by their patrons, to be placed under the supervision of some mentor from the P.R. as regards their diet and exercise. But before long watermen began to take care of themselves in this respect. Their system of training did not differ materially from that in vogue with the P.R. It consisted of hard work in thick clothing, early during the course of preparation, to reduce weight; and a good deal of pedestrian exercise formed part of the day's programme; a material result of the association of the P.R. system of preparation. The diet was less varied and liberal than in these days, but abstinence from fluid to as great an extent as possible was from the outset recognised as all-important for reducing bulk and clearing the wind.

A prizefighter or waterman used to commence his training with a liberal dose of physic. The idea seems to have a stable origin, analogous to the principle of physic balls for a hunter on being taken up from grass. The system was not amiss for men of mature years, who had probably been leading a life of self-indulgence since the time when they had last been in training. But when University crews began to put themselves under the care of professional trainers, those worthies used to treat these half-grown lads as they would some gin-sodden senior of forty, and would physic their insides before they set them to work. They would try to sweat them down to fiddle-strings, and were not happy unless they could show considerable reduction of weight in the scale, even with a lad who had not attained his full growth. Still, though many a young athlete naturally went amiss under this severe handling, there is no doubt that these professional trainers used to turn out their charges in very fine condition, on the average.

No trainer of horses would work a two-year-old on the same system that he would an aged horse; and the error of these old professional trainers lay in their not realising the difference in age between University men and the ordinary classes of professional athletes. In time University men began to think and to act for themselves in the matter of training. When college eights first began to row against each other, there were only three or four clubs which manned eights; and these eights now and then were filled up with a waterman or two. (In these days few college crews would take an Oxford waterman as a gift-qua his oarsmanship!) These crews, when they began to adopt training, employed watermen as mentors. Before long there were more eights than watermen, and some crews could not obtain this assistance. The result was, a rule against employing professional tuition within a certain date of the race. This regulation threw University men upon their own resources, and before long they came to the conclusion that good amateur coaching and training was more effective than that of professionals. Mr. F. Menzies, the late Mr. G. Hughes, and the Rev. A. Shadwell, had much to do in converting the O.U.B.C. to these wholesome doctrines. From that time amateurs of all rowing clubs have very much depended on themselves and their confrères for tuition in oarsmanship and training.

The usual régime of amateur training is now very much to the following effect.

Réveille at 6.30 or 7 a.m.-Generally a brief morning walk; and if so, the 'tub' is usually postponed until the return from the walk. If it is summer, and there are swimming facilities, a header or two does no harm, but men should not be allowed to strike out hard in swimming, when under hard rowing rules. For some reason, which medical science can better explain, there seems to be a risk of straining the suspensory or some other ligaments, when they are suddenly relaxed in water, and then extended by a jerk. (This refers to arms that have lately been bearing the strain of rowing.) Also, the soakage in water for any length of time tends to relax the whole of the muscular system. Whether tub or swim be the order of the morning, the skin should be well rubbed down with rough towels after the immersion. In old days there used to be a furore for running before breakfast. Many young men find their stomachs and appetites upset by hard work on an empty stomach, more especially in sultry weather. The Oxford U.B.C. eight at Henley in 1857 and 1859 used to go for a run up Remenham Hill before breakfast, and this within two or three days of the regatta. Such a system would now be tabooed as unsound.

Breakfast consists of grilled chops or steaks; cold meat may be allowed if a man prefers it. If possible, it is well to let a roast joint cool uncut, to supply cold meat for a crew. The gravy is thus retained in the meat.

Bread should be one day old; toast is better than bread. Many crews allow butter, but as a rule a man is better without it. It adds a trifle to adipose deposit, and does not do any special service towards strengthening his tissues or purifying his blood.

Some green meat at breakfast is a good thing. Watercress for choice-next best are small salad and lettuce (plain).

Tea is the recognised beverage; two cups are ample for a man. If he can dispense with sugar it will save him some ounces of fat, if he is at all of a flesh-forming habit of body. A boiled egg is often allowed, to wind up the repast.

GOING TO SCALE.

Luncheon depends, as to its substance, very much upon the time of year and the hours of exercise. If the work can be done in two sections, forenoon and afternoon, all the better. In hot summer weather it may be too sultry to take men out between breakfast and the mid-day meal. Luncheon now usually consists of cold meat, to a reasonable amount, stale bread, green meat, and a glass of ale. In the days when the writer was at Oxford, the rule of the O.U.B.C. was to allow no meat at luncheon (only bread, butter, and watercress). This was a mistake; young men, daily wasting a large amount of tissue under hard work, had a natural craving for substantial food to supply the hiatus in the system. By being docked of it at luncheon, they gorged all the more at breakfast and dinner, where there was no limit as to quantity (of solids) to be consumed. They would have done better had their supply of animal food been divided into three instead of two daily allowances. They used to be allowed one slice of cold meat during their nine days' stay at Putney; it would have been well to have allowed this all through training.

Dinner consists mainly of roast beef or mutton, or choice of both. It is the custom to allow 'luxuries' of some sort every other day, e.g. fish one day, and a course of roast poultry (chicken) on another. 'Pudding' is sometimes allowed daily, sometimes it only appears in its turn with 'luxuries.' It generally consists of stewed fruit, with plain boiled rice, or else calves'-foot jelly. A crust, or biscuit, with a little butter and some watercress or lettuce, make a final course before the cloth is cleared.

Drink is ale, for a standard; light claret, with water, is nowadays allowed for choice, and no harm in it. A pint is the normal measure; sometimes an extra half-pint may be conceded on thirsty days.

An orange and biscuit for dessert usually follow. In the writer's days every man had two glasses of port wine. He thinks this was perhaps more than was required (as regards alcohol); one glass may suffice, but there may be no reason against the second wineglass being conceded, with water substituted, if the patient is really dry. Claret also may take the place of port after dinner. Fashions change; in the writer's active days, claret would have been scorned as un-English for athletes.

Such is the usual nature of training diet; of the exercise of the day, more anon. There does not seem to be much fault to find with the régime above sketched; in fact, the proof of soundness of the diet may be seen in the good condition usually displayed by those who adopt it.

All the same, the writer, when he has trained crews, has slightly modified the above in a few details. He has allowed (a little) fish or poultry daily, as an extra course, and for the same reason has always endeavoured to have both beef and mutton on the table. He believes that change of dish aids appetite, so long as the varieties of food do not clash in digestion. Men become tired with a monotony of food, however wholesome. Puddings the writer does not think much of, provided that other varieties of dish can be obtained. A certain amount of vegetable food is necessary to blend with the animal food, else boils are likely to break out; but green vegetables such as are in season are far better than puddings for this purpose. Salad, daily with the joint, will do good. It is unusual to see it, that is all. The salad should not be dressed. Lettuce, endive, watercress, smallcress, beetroot, and some minced spring onions to flavour the whole, make a passable dish, which a hungry athlete will much relish. Asparagus, spinach, and French beans may be supplied when obtainable. Green peas are not so good, and broad beans worse. The tops of young nettles, when emerald green, make a capital dish, like spinach, rather more tasty than the latter vegetable. Such nettles can only be picked when they first shoot; old nettles are as bad as flowered asparagus.

If a crew train in the fruit season, fruit to a small amount will not harm them, as a finale to either breakfast or dinner. But the fruit should be very fresh, not bruised nor decomposed; strawberries, gooseberries, grapes, peaches, nectarines, apricots (say one of the last three, or a dozen of the smaller fruits, for a man's allowance), all are admissible. Not so melons, nor pines-so medical friends assert.

In hot summer weather it is as well to dine about 2 p.m., to row in the cool of the evening, towards 7 p.m., and to sup about 8.30 or 9 p.m. It is a mistake to assume that because a regatta will come off midday, therefore those who train for it should accustom themselves to a burning sun for practice. With all due deference to Herodotus (who avers that the skeleton skulls of quondam combatant Persians and Egyptians could be known apart on the battle-field, because the turban-clad heads of Persians produced soft skulls which crumbled to a kick, while the sun-baked heads of Egyptians were hard as bricks), we do not believe in this sort of acclimatisation. If men have to be trained to row a midnight race, they would be best prepared for it by working at their ordinary daylight hours, not by turning night into day for weeks beforehand. On the same principle it would seem to be a mistake to expose oarsmen in practice to excessive heat to which they have not been accustomed, solely because they are likely eventually to row their race under a similar sun. In really oppressive weather at Henley the writer and his crews used to dine about 2 p.m. as aforesaid, finish supper at 9 or 9.30, and go to bed two hours later. They rose proportionately later next day, taking a good nine hours in bed before they turned out. So far as their records read, those crews do not seem on the whole to have suffered in condition by this system of training.

Many men are parched with thirst at night. The heat of the stomach, rather overladen with food, tends to this. The waste of the system has been abnormal during the day; the appetite, i.e. instinct to replenish the waste, has also been abnormal, and yet the capacity of the stomach is only normal. Hence the stomach finds it hard work to keep pace with the demands upon it. Next morning these men feel 'coppered,' as if they had drunk too much overnight, and yet it is needless to say they have not in any way exceeded the moderate scale of alcohol already propounded above as being customary.

The best preventive of this tendency to fevered mouths is a cup of 'water gruel,' or even a small slop-basin of it, the last thing before bedtime. It should not contain any milk; millet seed and oatmeal grits are best for its composition. The consumption of this light supper should be compulsory, whether it suits palates or not. The effect of it is very striking; it seems to soothe and promote digestion, and to allay thirst more than three times its amount of water would do. Some few men cannot, or profess to be unable to, stomach this gruel. The writer has had to deal with one or two such in his time. He had his doubts whether their stomach or their whims were to blame; but in such cases he gave way, and allowed a cup of chocolate instead-without milk. (Milk blends badly with meat and wine at the end of a hard day.) Chocolate is rather more fattening than gruel, otherwise it answers the same purpose, of checking any disposition to 'coppers.'

It has been a time-honoured maxim with all trainers, that it is the fluids which lay on fat and which spoil the wind. Accordingly, reduction in the consumption of fluid has always been one of the first principles of training, and it is a sound one so long as it is not carried to excess. It is not at the outset of training that thirst so oppresses the patient, but at the end of the first week and afterwards, especially when temperature rises and days are sultry. Vinegar over greens at dinner tends to allay thirst; the use of pepper rather promotes it. In time the oarsman begins to accustom himself somewhat to his diminished allowance of fluid, and he learns to economise it during his meals, to wash down his solids.

A coach should be reasonably firm in resisting unnecessary petitions for extra fluid, but he must exercise discretion, and need not be always obdurate. On this subject the writer reproduces his opinion as expressed in 'Oars and Sculls' in 1873:-

The tendency to 'coppers' in training is no proof of insobriety. The whole system of training is unnatural to the body. It is an excess of nature. Regular exercise and plain food are not in themselves unnatural, but the amount of each taken by the subject in training is what is unnatural. The wear and tear of tissue is more than would go on at ordinary times, and consequently the body requires more commissariat than usual to replenish the system. The stomach has all its work cut out to supply the commissariat, and leave the tendency to indigestion and heat in the stomach. A cup of gruel seldom fails to set this to rights, and a glass of water besides may also be allowed if the coach is satisfied that a complaint of thirst is genuine. There is no greater folly than stinting a man in his liquid. He should not be allowed to blow himself out with drink, taking up the room of good solid food; but to go to the other extreme, and to spoil his appetite for want of an extra half-pint at dinner, or a glass of water at bedtime, is a relic of barbarism. The appetite is generally greatest about the end of the first week of training. By that time the frame has got sufficiently into trim to stand long spells of work at not too rapid a pace. The stomach has begun to accustom itself to the extra demands put upon it, and as at this time the daily waste and loss of flesh is greater than later on, when there is less flesh to lose, so the natural craving to replenish the waste of the day is greater than at a later period. At this time the thirst is great, and though drinking out of hours should be forbidden, yet the appetite should not, for reasons previously stated, be suffered to grow stale for want of sufficient liquid at meal times in proportion to the solids consumed.

Such views would have been reckoned scandalously heretical twenty-five or more years ago, but the writer feels that he is unorthodox in good company, and is glad to find Mr. E. D. Brickwood, in his treatise on 'Boat-racing,' 1875, laying down his own experiences on the same subject to just the same effect. Mr. Brickwood's remarks on the subject of 'thirst' (as per his index) may be studied with advantage by modern trainers. He says (page 201):-

As hunger is the warning voice of nature telling us that our bodies are in need of a fresh supply of food, so thirst is the same voice warning us that a fresh supply of liquid is required. Thirst, then, being, like hunger, a natural demand, may safely be gratified, and with water in preference to any other fluid. The prohibition often put upon the use of water or fluid in training may often be carried too far. To limit a man to a pint or two of liquid per day, when his system is throwing off three or four times that quantity through the medium of the ordinary secretions, is as unreasonable as to keep him on half-rations. The general thirst experienced by the whole system, consequent upon great bodily exertion or extreme external heat, has but one means of cure-drink, in the simplest form attainable. Local thirst, usually limited to the mucous linings, of the mouth and throat, may be allayed by rinsing the mouth and gargling the throat, sucking the stone of stone fruit, or a pebble, by which to excite the glands in the affected part, or even by dipping the hands into cold water. Fruit is here of very little benefit, as the fluid passes at once to the stomach, and affords no relief to the parts affected; but after rinsing the mouth, small quantities may be swallowed slowly. The field for the selection of food to meet the waste of the body under any condition of physical exertions is by no means restricted. All that the exceptional requirements of training call for is to make a judicious selection; but, in recognising this principle, rowing men have formed a dietary composed almost wholly of restrictions the effect of which has been to produce a sameness in diet which has almost been as injurious in some cases as the entire absence of any laws would be in others.

It should be borne in mind that Mr. Brickwood's field as an amateur lay principally in sculling, which entailed solitary training, unlike that of a member of an eight or four. He had therefore to train himself, and to trust to his own judgment when so doing, blending self-denial with discretion. He is, in the above quotation, apparently speaking of the principles under which he governed himself when training. That they were crowned with good success his record as an athlete shows, for he twice won the Diamond Sculls, and also held the Wingfield (amateur championship) in 1861. Such testimony therefore is the more valuable coming from a successful and self-trained sculler.

As regards sleep, the writer lays great stress upon obtaining a good amount of it. Even if a night is sultry, and sleep does not come easily, still the oarsman can gain something by mere physical repose, though his brain may now and then not obtain rest so speedily as he could wish. The adage ascribed to King George III. as to hours of sleep, 'six for a man, seven for a woman, and eight for a fool,' is unsound. He who is credited with having propounded it, showed in his later years that, either his brain had suffered from deficiency of rest, or that it never had been sufficiently brilliant to justify much attention being bestowed on his philosophy. Probably he never did a really hard day's (still less a week's) labour, of either brain or body, in his life. Had he done so, he would have found that not six, nor seven, and often not eight hours, are too much to enable the wasted tissues of brain or body, or both, to recuperate. It is when in a state of repose that the blood, newly made from the latest meal, courses through the system and replenishes what has been wasted during the day. Recruits are never measured for the standard at the end of a day's march, but next day-after a good rest. Cartilage, sinew, muscle, alike waste. The writer used, after racing the Henley course, perhaps thrice in an evening's practice (twice in a four or eight and afterwards in a pair-oar or sculling boat, &c), to take a good nine hours' sound sleep, and awoke all the better for it. Some men keep on growing to a comparatively late age in life; such men require more sleep, while thus increasing in size, than others who have earlier attained full bulk and maturity. As a rule, and regardless of what many other trainers may say to the contrary, the writer believes that the majority of men in training may sleep nine hours with advantage.

The period of training varies according to circumstances. A man of twenty-five and upwards, who has been lying by for months, it may be for a year or two, can do with three months of it. The first half should be less severe than the last. He can begin with steady work, to redevelop his muscles, and to reduce his bulk (if he is much over weight) by degrees. The last six weeks should be 'strict' in every sense. He can get into 'hunting' condition in the first six weeks, and progress to 'racing' condition in the succeeding six.

University crews train from five to six weeks. The men are young, and have, most of them, been in good exercise some time before strict training begins.

College crews cannot give much more than three weeks to train for the summer bumping races; tideway crews have been doing a certain amount of work for weeks before they go into strict training for Henley; this last stage usually lasts about four weeks.

It is often supposed that a man needs less training for a short than for a long course. This is a mistake. The longer he prepares himself, so long as he does not overdo himself, the better he will be. Long and gradual training is better than short and severe reductions. Over a long course, when an untrained man once finds nature fail him, more ground will be lost than over a short course: cela va sans dire: but that is no argument against being thoroughly fit for even a half-mile row. The shorter the course, the higher the pressure of pace, and the crew that cracks first for want of condition-loses (ceteris paribus).

Athletes of the running path will agree that it is as important to train a man thoroughly for a quarter-mile race as for a three-mile struggle. Pace kills, and it is condition which enables the athlete to endure the pace.

SMOKING IS FORBIDDEN.

Smoking is, as every schoolboy knows, forbidden in training. However, pro forma, the fact must be recorded that it is illicit. It spoils the freedom of the lungs, which should be as elastic as possible, in order to enable them to oxygenate properly the extra amount of blood which circulates under violent exertions.

Aperients at the commencement of training used to be de rigueur. Young men of active habits hardly need them. Anyhow, no trainer should attempt to administer them on his own account; if he thinks the men need physic at the outset, let him call in a medical man to prescribe for them.

WORK.

We have said that proper diet keeps an oarsman up to the work which is necessary to bring him into good condition. Having detailed the régime of diet, and its appurtenances, such as sleep, we may now deal with the system of work itself.

One item of work we have incidentally dealt with, to wit, the morning walk; but it was necessary to handle this detail at that stage because it had a reference to the morning tub and morning meal.

The work which is set for a crew should be guided by the distance of time from the race. If possible, oarsmen should have their work lightened somewhat towards the close of training, and it is best to get over the heavy work, which is designed to reduce weight as well as to clear the wind, at a comparatively early stage of the training.

There is also another factor to be taken into calculation by the trainer, and that is whether, at the time when sharp work is necessary to produce condition, his crew are sufficiently advanced as oarsmen to justify him in setting them to perform that work at a fast stroke in the boat. Not all crews require to be worked upon the same system, irrespective of the question of stamina and health.

Suppose a crew are backward as oarsmen and also behindhand in condition. If such a crew are set to row a fast stroke in order to blow themselves and to accustom their vascular system to high pressure, their style may be damaged. If on the other hand they do no work except rowing at a slow stroke until within a few days of the race, they will come to the post short of condition. Such a crew should be kept at a slow stroke in the boat, in order to enable them to learn style, for a fortnight or so; but meantime the trainer should put them through some sharp work upon their legs. He should set them to run a mile or so after the day's rowing. This will get off flesh, and will clear the wind, and meantime style can be studied in the boat. Long rows without an easy are a mistake for backward men who are also short of work. When the pupil gets blown at the end of a few minutes he relapses into his old faults, and makes his last state worse than the first.

'RUN A MILE OR TWO.'

Training not only gets off superfluous flesh, but also lays on muscle. The sooner the fat is off the sooner does the muscle lay on. The commissariat feeds the newly developing muscles better if there is no tax upon it to replenish the fat as well. For this reason, apart from the importance of clearing the wind, heavy work should come early in training. When a crew who have been considerably reduced in weight early in their course of training, feed up towards the last, and gain in weight, it is a good sign, and shows that their labours have been judiciously adjusted; the weight which they pick up at the close of training is new muscle replacing the discarded fat.

In training college eights for summer races there is not scope for training on the above system. The time is too short, some of the men are already half-fit, and have been in work of some sort or other during the spring; while one or two of them may have been lying idle for a twelvemonth. In such cases a captain must use his own discretion; he can set his grosser men to do some running while he confines those who are fitter to work only in the ship. As a rule, however, unless men have no surplus flesh to take off, all oarsmen are the better for a little running at the end of the day during the early part of training. It prepares their wind for the time when a quick stroke will be required of them. A crew who have been rowing a slow stroke and who have meantime been improved in condition by running, will take to the quick stroke later on more kindly than a ditto class crew who have done no running, and whose condition has been obtained only by rowing exercise. The latter crew have been rowing all abroad while short of wind, and have thereby not corrected, and probably have contracted, faults. The former crew will have had better opportunities of improving their style, will be more like machinery, and will be less blown when they are at last asked to gallop in the boat.

For the first few days it will be well to row an untrained crew over easy half-miles. A long day's work in the boat will not harm them: on the contrary, it will tend to shake them together; tired men can row well as to style, but men out of breath cannot row. At the end of a week or so, the men can cover a mile at a hard slow grind without an easy. If there is plenty of time, i.e. some five weeks of training, a good deal of paddling can be done, alternating with hard rowing at a slow stroke. If there are only three weeks to train, and men are gross, much paddling cannot be spared. If again time is short and men have already been in work for other races, and do not want much if any reduction in weight, then a good deal of the day's work may be done at a paddle.

Thirty strokes a minute is plenty for slow rowing. Some strokes, though good to race behind, have a difficulty in rowing slow; especially after having had a spell at a fast stroke. It is important to inculcate upon the stroke that thirty a minute should be his 'walking' pace, and should always be maintained except when he is set to do a course, or a part of one, or to row a start. When once he is told to do something like racing over a distance, he must calculate his stroke to orders, whether thirty-two, -four, -six, -eight, &c. But when the 'gallop' is over, then the normal 'thirty' should resume. It is during the 'off' work, when rowing or paddling to or from a course, that there is most scope for coaching, and faults are best cured at a slow stroke.

In training for a short course, such as Henley and college races, a crew may be taken twice each day backwards and forwards over the distance; the first time at thirty a minute each way, the second time at the 'set' pace of the day, over the course, relapsing into the usual 'thirty' on the reverse journey. The 'set' stroke depends on the stage of training. A fortnight before the race the crew may begin to cover the course, on the second journey, at about thirty-one a minute. A stroke a day can be added to this, until racing pace is reached. If men seem stale, an off-day should be given at light work. Meantime, each day, attention should be paid to 'starting,' so that all may learn to get hold of the first stroke well together. In order to accustom the men to a quicker stroke and to getting forward faster, a few strokes may be rowed, in each start, at a pace somewhat in advance of the rate of stroke set for the day's grind over the course. A couple such starts as this per diem benefit both crew and coach. The crew begin to feel what a faster stroke will be like, without being called upon to perform it over the whole distance before they are fit to go; the coach will be able to observe each man's work at the faster stroke. Many a green oarsman looks promising while the stroke is slow, but becomes all abroad when called upon to row fast. It is best to have some insight to these possible failings early in training, else it may be too late to remedy them or to change the man on the eve of battle.

Towards the close of training the crew should do their level best once or twice over the course, to accustom them to being rowed out, and to give them confidence in their recuperative powers; also to enable the stroke to feel the power of his crew, and to form an opinion as to how much he can ask them to do in the race. The day before the racing begins, work should be light.

In bumping races, if a college has no immediate fear of foes from the rear, it is well not to bring men too fine to the post; else, though they may do well enough for the first day or two, they may work stale or lose power before the end of the six days of the contest. It is better that a crew should row itself into condition than out of it. In training for long-distance racing, it is customary to make about every alternate day a light one, of about the same work as for college racing. The other days are long-course days of long grinds, to get men together, and to reduce weight. When men have settled to a light boat, and have begun to row courses against time, and especially when they reach Putney water, two long courses in each week are about enough. Many crews do not do even so much as this. As a rule a crew are better for not being taken for more than ten or eleven minutes of hard, uninterrupted racing, within three days of the race. A long course wastes much tissue, and it takes a day or two to feed up what they have wasted. Nevertheless, crews have been known to do long courses within 48 hours of a Putney match, and to win withal: e.g. the Oxonians of 1883, who came racing pace from Barnes to Putney two days before the race, and 'beat record' over that stretch of water.

BUMPING RACE-WAITING FOR THE GUN.

Strokes and coaches do a crew much harm if they are jealous of 'times' prematurely in practice. Suppose an opponent does a fast time, there is no need to go to the starting point and endeavour to eclipse time. Possibly his rapid time has been accomplished by dint of a prematurely rapid stroke, while the pace of our own boat, with regard to the rate of stroke employed, discloses promise of better pace than our opponents, when racing shall arrive in real earnest. Now if we, for jealousy, take our own men at a gallop before they are ripe for it, we run great risk of injuring their style, and of throwing them back instead of improving them. After the day's race, the body should be well washed in tepid water, and rubbed dry with rough towels. It is a good thing for an oarsman to keep a toothbrush in his dressing-room. He will find it a great relief against thirst to wash his mouth out with it when dressing, more especially so if he also uses a little tincture of myrrh.

One 'odd man' is of great service to training, even if he cannot spare time to row in the actual race. Many a man in a crew is the better for a day's, or half a day's, rest now and then. Yet his gain is loss of practice to the rest, unless a stop-gap can be found to keep the machinery going. The berth of ninth man in a University eight often leads to promotion to the full colours in a following season, as U.B.C. records can show.

With college eights there used to be a furore, some twenty years ago, for taking them over the long course in a gig eight. These martyrs, half fit, were made to row the regulation long course, from 'first gate' to lasher, or at least to Nuneham railway bridge, at a hard and without an easy. The idea was to 'shake them together.' The latter desideratum could have been attained just as well by taking them to the lasher and back again, but allowing them to be eased once in each mile or so. Many crews that adopted the process met with undoubted success, but we fancy that their success would have been greater had their long row been judiciously broken by rest every five minutes. To behold a half-trained college eight labouring past Nuneham, at the end of some fifteen minutes of toil, jealous to beat the time of some rival crew, used to be a pitiable sight. More crews were marred than made by this fanaticism.

On the morning of a race it is a good thing to send a crew to run sprints of seventy or eighty yards, twice. This clears the wind greatly for the rest of the day, without taking any appreciable strength out of the man. A crew thus 'aired' do not so much feel the severity of a sharp start in the subsequent race, and they gain their second wind much sooner.

The meal before a race should be a light one, comparatively: something that can be digested very easily. Mutton is digested sooner than beef. H. Kelley used to swear by a wing of boiled chicken (without sauce) before a race. The fluid should be kept as low as possible just before a race; and there should be about three hours between the last meal and the start. A preliminary canter in the boat is advisable; it tests all oars and stretchers, and warms up the muscles. Even when men are rowing a second or third race in the day, they should not be chary of extending themselves for a few strokes on the way to the post. Muscles stiffen after a second race, and are all the better for being warmed up a trifle before they are again placed on the rack.

Between races a little food may be taken, even if there is only an hour to spare: biscuit soaked in port wine stays the stomach; and if there is more than an hour cold mutton and stale bread (no butter), to the extent of a couple of sandwiches or more (according to time for digestion), will be of service. Such a meal may be washed down with a little cold tea and brandy. The tea deadens the pain of stiffened muscles; the brandy helps to keep the pulse up. If young hands are fidgetty and nervous, a little brandy and water may be given them; or brandy and tea, not exceeding a wine-glass, rather more tea than brandy. The writer used often to pick up his crew thus, and was sometimes laughed at for it in old days. He is relieved to find no less an authority than Mr. E. D. Brickwood, on page 219 of 'Boat-racing,' holding the same view as himself, and commending the same system of 'pick-me-up.'

AILMENTS.

A rowing man seems somehow to be heir to nearly as many ailments as a racehorse. Except that he does not turn 'roarer,' and that there is no such hereditary taint in rowing clubs, he may almost be likened to a Derby favourite.

Boils are one of the most common afflictions. They used to be seen more frequently in the writer's days than now. The modern recognition of the importance of a due proportion of vegetable food blended with the animal food has tended to reduce the proportion of oarsmen annually laid up by this complaint. A man is not carnivorous purely, but omnivorous, like a pig or a bear. If he gorges too much animal food meat, he disorders his blood, and his blood seeks to throw off its humours. If there is a sore anywhere on the frame at the time, the blood will select this as a safety valve, and will raise a fester there. If there is no such existing safety valve, the blood soon broaches a volcano of its own, and has an unpleasant habit of selecting most inconvenient sites for these eruptions. Where there is most wear and tear going on to the cuticle is a likely spot for the volcano to open, and nature in this respect is prone to favour the seat of honour more than any other portions of the frame. Next in fashion, perhaps, comes the neck; the friction of a comforter when the neck is dripping with perspiration tends often to make the skin of the neck tender and to induce a boil to break out there. A blistered hand is not unlikely to be selected as the scene of outbreak, or a shoulder chafed by a wet jersey.

A crew should be under strict orders to report all ailments, if only a blister, instantly to the coach. It is better to leave no discretion in this matter to the oarsman, even at the risk of troubling the mentor with trifles. If a man is once allowed to decide for himself whether he will report some petty and incipient ailment, he is likely to try to hush it up lest it should militate against his coach's selection of him; the effect of this is that mischief which might otherwise have been checked in the bud, is allowed to assume dangerous proportions for want of a stitch in time. An oarsman should be impressed that nothing is more likely to militate against his dream of being selected than disobedience to this or any other standing order. The smallest pimple should be shown forthwith to the coach, the slightest hoarseness or tendency to snuffle reported; any tenderness of joint or sinew instantly made known.

To return to boils. If a boil is observed in the pimple stage, it may be scotched and killed. Painting it with iodine will drive it away, in the writer's experience. 'Stonehenge' advises a wash of nitrate of silver, of fifteen to twenty grains to the ounce, to be painted over the spot. Mr. Brickwood also, while quoting 'Stonehenge' on this point, recommends bathing with bay salt and water.

Anyhow, these external means of repression do not of themselves suffice. They only bung up the volcano; the best step is to cure the blood, otherwise it will break out somewhere else. The writer's favourite remedy is a dose of syrup of iodide of iron; one teaspoonful in a wineglass of water, just before or after a meal, is about the best thing. A second dose of half the amount may be taken twenty-four hours later. This medicine is rather constipating; a slight aperient, if only a dose of Carlsbad salts before breakfast or a seidlitz powder, may be taken to counteract it in this respect. It is a strong but prompt remedy; anything is better than to have a member of a crew eventually unable to sit down for a week or so! An extra glass of port after dinner, and plenty of green food, will help to rectify the disordered blood.

Another good internal remedy is brewer's yeast, a tablespoonful twice a day after meals. Watermen swear by this, and Mr. Brickwood personally recommends it.

If care is taken a boil can be thus nipped in the bud (figuratively); to do this literally is the very worst thing. Some people pinch off the head of a small boil. This only adds fuel to the fire. If a boil has become large, red, and angry before any remedies are applied, it is too late to drive it in, and the next best thing is to coax it out. This is done with strong linseed poultices. A doctor should be called in, and be persuaded to lance it, to the core, and to squeeze it, so soon as he judges it to be well filled with pus.

Raws used to be more common twenty-five years ago than now: boat cushions had much to do with them. Few oarsmen in these days use cushions. Raws are best anointed with a mixture of oxide of zinc, spermaceti and glycerine, which any chemist can make up, to the consistency of cold cream. It should be buttered on thickly, especially at bed-time.

Blisters should be pricked with a needle (never with pin); the water should be squeezed out, and the old skin left on to shield the young skin below.

Festers are only another version of boils. The internal remedies, to rectify the blood, should be the same as for boils. Cuts or wounds of broken skin may be treated like raws if slight; if deeper, then wrapped in lint, soaked in cold water, and bound with oilskin to keep the lint moist.

Abdominal strains sometimes occur (i.e. of the abdominal muscles of recovery) if a man does a hard day's work before he is fairly fit. A day's rest is the best thing; an hour's sitting in a hot hip bath, replenishing the heat as the water cools, gives much relief. The strain works off while the oarsman is warm to his work, but recurs with extra pain when he starts cold for the next row. If there is any suspicion of hernia (or 'rupture') work should instantly stop, even ten miles from home; the patient should row no more, walk gently to a resting-place, and send for a doctor. Once only has the writer known of real hernia in a day's row, and then the results were painfully serious. Inspection of the abdomen will show if there is any hernia.

Diarrh?a is a common complaint. It is best to call in a doctor if the attack does not pass off in half a day. If a man has to go to the post while thus affected, it is a good thing to give him some raw arrowroot (three or four table-spoonfuls) in cold water. The dose should be well stirred, to make the arrowroot swill down the throat. To put the arrowroot into hot water spoils the effect which is desired.

Many doctors have a tender horror of consenting to any patient rowing, even for a day, so long as he is under their care, though only for a boil which does not affect his action.

Professional instinct prompts them to feel that the speediest possible cure is the chief desideratum, and of course that object is best attained by lying on the shelf. A doctor who will consent to do his best to cure, subject to assenting to his patient's continuing at work so long as actual danger is not thereby incurred, and so long as disablement for the more important race day is not risked, is sometimes, but too rarely, found.

Sprains, colds, coughs, &c., had better be submitted at once to a doctor. A cold on the chest may become much more serious than it appears at first, and should never be trifled with. Slightly sprained wrists weaken, but need not necessarily cripple a man. Mr. W. Hoare, stroke of Oxford boat in 1862, had a sprained wrist at Putney, and rowed half the race with only one hand, as also much of the practice. He was none the worse after Easter, when the tendons had rested and recuperated.

Oarsmen should be careful to wrap up warmly the instant that they cease work. Many a cold has been caught by men sitting in their jerseys-cold wind suddenly checking perspiration after a sharp row-while some chatter is going on about the time which the trial has taken, or why No. So-and-so caught a small crab halfway. A woollen comforter should always be at hand to wrap promptly round the neck and over the chest when exertion ceases, and so soon as men land they should clothe up in warm flannel, until the time comes to strip and work.

Siestas should not be allowed. There is a temptation to doze on a full stomach after a hard day, or even when fresh after a midday meal. No one should be allowed to give way to this; it only makes men 'slack,' and spoils digestion.

If a man can keep his bedclothes on all night, and keep warm, he will do himself good if he sleeps with an open window, winter or summer. He thereby gets more fresh air, and accordingly has not to tax the respiratory muscles so much, in order to inhale the necessary amount of oxygen. Eight hours sleep with open windows refresh the frame more than nine hours and upwards in a stuffy bedroom. A roaring fire may obviate an open window, for it forces a constant current of air through the apartment. The writer has slept with windows wide open, winter and summer, since he first matriculated at his University, save once or twice for a night or two when suffering from cold (not contracted by having slept with open windows). If a bed is well tucked up, and the frame well covered, the chest cannot be chilled, and the mouth and nose are none the worse for inhaling cool fresh air, even below freezing-point. This refers to men of sound chests. Men of weak constitution have no business to train or to race.

* * *

FOUR-OAR.

CHAPTER XIII.

ROWING CLUBS.

The formation of a 'club' for the pursuit of any branch of sport gives a local stimulus at once to the game, and lends facilities for the acquisition of merit in the performance. This is peculiarly the case with rowing, and for more than one reason. Theoretically a man might, by unaided scientific study, elaborate for himself the most improved system or principle of oarsmanship. Practically he will do nothing of the sort, and if left to teach himself will develop all sorts of faults of style, which tend to the outlay of a maximum of exertion for a minimum of progress. The tiro in oarsmanship requires instruction from the outset; the sooner he is taught, the more likely is he to become proficient. If he begins to teach himself, he will certainly acquire faulty action, which will settle to habit. If later on he has recourse to a mentor, the labours of both pupil and tutor will be more arduous than if the pupil were a complete beginner; the pupil will require first to be untaught from his bad style before he is adapted for instruction in good action of limbs and body.

Moreover, all rowing becomes so mechanical that the polished oarsman is almost as unconscious of merit in his style (save from what others may tell him of himself) as the duffer is of his various inelegancies. The very best oarsman is liable insidiously to develop faults in his own style which he himself, or a less scientific performer, would readily notice in another person.

Hence, where men row together in a club, each can be of service to the other, in pointing out faults, of which the performer is unconscious. So that half-a-dozen oarsmen or scullers of equal class, if they will thus mutually assist each other, can attain between them a higher standard than if each had rowed like a hermit. Still more is the standard of oarsmanship raised among juniors when the older hands of a club take them in charge and coach them.

In addition to this system of reciprocal education, a club fosters rivalry, and organises club races; and, in like manner, a plurality of clubs stimulates competition between clubs, and produces open racing between members of the rival institutions.

College clubs seem to be the oldest on record. Some of them go back as early as the concluding years of George the Third. The rise of British oarsmanship has been traced in a preceding chapter. The oldest 'open' rowing club is the 'Leander.' When it originated seems to be uncertain, but it was considered relatively to be an 'old' club in 1837.

Mr. G. D. Rowe, Hon. Secretary of the Club, has kindly extracted the following memoranda from the Club's history of its records:-

It would seem that the earliest known metropolitan rowing clubs were 'The Star' and 'The Arrow,' which existed at the end of the last century, and expired somewhere about 1820. Out of the ruins sprang the Leander Club, which is still a flourishing institution, and which includes amongst its members most of the great University oarsmen of the last thirty years or so. So far as can be ascertained, the Leander Club did not exist in 1820, but it was in full swing in 1825, and in 1830 was looked upon as a well-known and long-established boat club.

In 1837, 1838, and 1841 Leander rowed races against Cambridge, losing the first and winning the last, whilst in 1838 the race was declared a draw owing to fouling.

In all three the course was from Westminster to Putney.

In 1839 Leander was beaten for the Grand Challenge Cup at Henley by the Oxford Etonians; but in 1840 the Leander crew won the Cup, whilst in 1841 they came in first, but were disqualified on a foul. In consequence of this Leander did not again compete for the G.C.C. till 1858,[12] as the Club considered the ruling of the Umpire unfair.

[12] The Leander entry at Henley, 1858, arose thus. A mixed team of old Blues of both colours got up an eight, and qualified by rowing under the Leander flag.

Meanwhile, however, in 1843, -4, and -5 Leander won the Challenge Cup at the Thames Regatta, and between 1845 and 1855 Leander won the Presentation Cup at Erith for Four-oars, several times.

Leander, however, was as much a social association as a competing rowing club. Up till 1856 the number of members was limited to twenty-five men, who used to meet at Westminster once or twice a week, and row to Putney or Greenwich, and take dinner together. Sometimes they would go to the Albert Docks, and dine on board a ship, at the expense of one of their members, who was a large shipowner.

After 1856 the number of members was increased to thirty-five, and in 1862 the Club was put on a more modern footing after the example of the London Rowing Club, and no limit was put on the number of members.

The Club quarters were moved to Putney, where a small piece of ground was rented on which a tent was erected for housing boats. This piece of ground was acquired by the London Rowing Club in 1864, and on it was built the present L.R.C. boat-house. Leander, however, were able to get a lease of a piece of land adjoining, and in 1866 built a boat-house, which still exists, though the Club has of late thought of departing from Putney and establishing themselves on one of the upper reaches of the Thames.

The rowing successes of Leander of late years have not been very great, though a Leander crew is always formidable 'on paper' and comprises a good selection of 'Varsity oars. Want of practice and of combination usually outweighs individual skill. In 1875 and 1880 the Grand Challenge Cup was won by Leander under the leadership of Goldie and Edwardes-Moss respectively, but since 1880 all attempts to carry off the much-coveted prize have proved futile.

It must have been a curious sight in old days to see a Leander crew rowing in front of the 'Varsity race in their 'cutter' steered by Jim Parish, their waterman coxswain. The crew used to wear the orthodox top-hats on their heads, whilst the coxswain was arrayed in all the glories of 'green plush kneebreeches, silk stockings, "Brummagem" coat, and tall white silk hat.'

The match between Oxford and Leander in 1831 had ended in the defeat of Oxford, and when, six years later, Cambridge challenged Leander, it was thought by the London division to be a rash venture on the part of the Cantabs. But we read in the Brasenose B.C. records that in the opinion of some experts the Leander oarsmanship was observed to have rather fallen off of late, and that there were not wanting good judges who were prepared for the Cantab victory in which the match resulted. This casual remark seems to show that Leander was a club of some years' standing at the time of this match. There seems to have been a 'scullers' club, hailing from Wandsworth, even earlier than this. But if it had a name, the title is lost. There must have been a fair amount of sculling among amateurs prior to 1830, in order to induce Mr. Lewis Wingfield in 1830 to present the silver challenge sculls which still bear his name, and which to this day carry with them the title of Amateur Championship. The University clubs, when once founded, rapidly developed strength; new college clubs were founded, and eights were manned by colleges and halls which hitherto had not entered for the annual bumping races. But London oarsmanship gradually deteriorated between 1835 and 1855. The cause of this decay is intelligible. The tideway was churned up by steamers, rowing from Westminster was no longer the pleasant sport which it had been, and railway facilities for suburban rowing had hardly developed. Leander made one show at Henley after its foundation and failed to score a win. After that Leander crews absented themselves from the scene until the days of their modern revival. There was a club called the 'St. George's' which put on a good four-oar or two in the 'forties' at Henley; and after them came a 'Thames' club, which lasted some seasons, and chiefly distinguished itself by winning thrice running the 'Gold Cup' of the old Thames Regatta of the 'forties.' The Thames Club also won the Grand at Henley; but they died out, and a lot of local small-fry clubs dismembered the rowing talent of the metropolis for the next few years. Of these, the most distinguished were the 'Argonauts,' between 1853 and 1856. They were not numerically strong, but they made up in quality for quantity. They were not enough to man an eight, and the Grand Challenge Cup at Henley was farmed for several seasons by the Universities. The Chester men came and went like a meteor in 1856. Their performances will be found under the description of the first keelless eight. In that year the London Rowing Club was founded, and in 1857, being then a year old, it made its début at Henley, and won the Grand Challenge, Mr. Wood in the Oxford crew breaking an oar in the last two hundred yards of the race. The foundation of the London Club did more to raise the standard of amateur rowing than anything in modern times. It created a third great factor in eight-oared rowing, and served to keep the Universities up to the mark. It also encouraged other clubs. Kingston soon followed suit, first with a four and afterwards with an eight. After them the new (modern) Thames Club also made its appearance at Henley, beginning like Kingston with fours before aspiring to eights. In these days Thames are rivals with London for the pick of the rowing talent of the tideway, and each acts as a stimulus to the other. It is no exaggeration to say that at an average Henley Regatta, during the present decade, four or five eights may often be seen, any one of which would, ceteris paribus (and sliding seats barred), have been considered a good winner of the Grand Challenge a quarter of a century ago, so great has been the advance in the standard of amateur rowing.

The Leander Club has been a practical reality once more for nearly twenty years; it has competed periodically for the Grand Challenge and Stewards' Cups, and has twice won the Grand, but its composition is now widely different from what it was in the palmy 'Brilliant' days of fifty years ago. In those times it represented the rowing talent of the metropolitan element; it filled the same position that the London and Thames Clubs now jointly occupy. In these days it is almost entirely composed of University men, past and present. Having vacated its old functions, it has in turn filled those formerly performed by the 'Subscription Rooms' of the Universities, which in the 'forties' used to hail from Stangate. There is but little junior rowing done or taught in Leander; most of its recruits are already more or less proficient before they join it. It is not a nursery of oarsmanship, but a colony, to which rowing men from the Universities resort. It is of value in promoting sport and competition, but it does not, from the very nature of its elements, fill the same sort of position that the London and Thames Clubs hold in the rowing world-as nurseries of junior talent on the tideway. On the upper Thames, Kingston holds a position of much the same nature as London and Thames. Twickenham are an old club, but it is only of late years that they have aspired to Grand Challenge form; they owe this aspiration to a reinforcement from Hertford College, Oxon. Besides these leading clubs there are sundry smaller bodies, which content themselves chiefly with junior rowing. Such are the 'West London' and 'Grove Park,'[13] the 'East Sheen,' and others of this class. Five-and-thirty years ago it was a rarity to see even a scratch amateur eight on the tideway, so much had London rowing gone downhill. In the present day, on a June or July evening, especially on Saturday, half-a-dozen or more may be seen between Wandsworth and Richmond.

[13] Since the above was written, West London and Grove Park Clubs have become extinct.

Provincial oarsmanship has made considerable advance during the last thirty years. The Chester Club was the first to make a great mark, as mentioned elsewhere. The Eastern Counties are the most behindhand in the science, although they have good rivers in the Orwell and Yare. Newcastle produces strong local clubs, and once a champion, Mr. Fawcus, came from the Tyne. Mr. Wallace, a high-class sculler, also came south, but without absolute success, some years before Mr. Fawcus. Durham, what with its school, its University, and its town, shows plenty of sport on the Wear. Lancashire sent a fair 'Mersey' four to Henley in 1862, and in 1870 the 'John o' Gaunt' men from the same river made a decided hit at Henley, although they failed to win. Bath has produced some good men before now, chiefly under the tuition of Mr. C. Herbert, a London oarsman. The Severn has woke up considerably. In 1850 we doubt whether four men could have been found on the whole river who could sit in an outrigger; but during the last fifteen years amateur rowing has made great advances at Worcester, Bewdley, Bridgnorth, and other towns. Tewkesbury started a regatta about a quarter of a century ago, and other towns on the Severn have followed suit. At present the Severn clubs confine their rowing very much to contests among themselves, and do not try their luck on the Thames in the leading regattas. The time may come when they will acquire sufficient talent to enable them to make a creditable display against the greater clubs of the Thames. The Trent, though one of the finest of our English rivers, does very little for oarsmanship. Some very second-class rowing is now and then seen at Nottingham, and also at Burton-on-Trent. The latter, many years ago, sent a pair-oar to Henley Regatta; but, so far as we can recall, the men, or one of them, was a Cantab (Mr. Nadin), and we may surmise that he owed his oarsmanship to the Cam rather than to the Trent. One curious feature in provincial rowing is, and has been, the absence of any professional talent. The Tyne alone has really rivalled the Thames in respect of producing leading professionals. A good four once or twice came from Glasgow to the Thames Regatta about sixteen years ago, and now and then a fair second-class sculler (such as Strong, of Barrow-in-Furness) has appeared from the provinces, but in other respects great apathy seems to prevail as regards professional oarsmanship on all our rivers except Thames and Tyne. The later decadence of professional talent on these once famous rivers will be treated in another chapter.

Mr. Brickwood, in his book on 'Boat-racing,' gives some admirable suggestions for the formation of rowing clubs, which should be read by all who aspire to found such institutions. For the benefit of those who may hereafter take the lead in establishing new boat clubs, or in remodelling old ones, he propounds a 'draft' code of general rules; it would be presumptuous to attempt to improve upon them, and we take the liberty of giving them in extenso, as sketched by this eminent authority.

Draft Rules.

1. This club shall be called the -- Rowing (or Boat) Club; and the colours shall be --.

2. The object of this club shall be the encouragement of rowing on the river -- amongst gentlemen amateurs.

3. Any gentleman desirous of becoming a member shall cause a notice in writing, containing his name, occupation, and address, together with the names of his proposer and seconder (both of whom must be members of the club, and personally acquainted with him, and one of whom must be present at the ballot), to be forwarded to the secretary fourteen days prior to the general meeting at which the candidate shall be balloted for; one black ball in five shall exclude. In the case of neither the proposer nor seconder being able to attend the ballot for a new member, the committee may institute such inquiries as they may deem requisite, and on the receipt of satisfactory replies in writing from both proposer and seconder such attendance may be waived, and the election may proceed in the usual manner.

4. The annual subscription shall be --, due and payable on February 1 in each year.

5. Subscriptions becoming due on February 1 shall be paid by April 1, and subscriptions becoming due after February 1 be paid within two months; or, in default, the names of the members whose subscriptions are in arrears may be placed conspicuously in the club-room, with a notice that they are not entitled to the benefits of the club.

6. The name of any member whose subscriptions shall be in arrear twelve months shall be posted in the club-room as a defaulter, and published in the circular next issued.

7. The proposer of any candidate shall (upon his election) be responsible to the club for the entrance-fee and first annual subscription of such candidate.

8. Members wishing to resign shall tender their resignation in writing to the secretary before February 1, otherwise they will be liable for the year's subscription; the receipt of such resignation shall be acknowledged by the secretary.

9. The officers of the club shall consist of a president, vice-president, captain, and secretary, to be elected by ballot at the first general meeting in February in each year; the same to be ex-officio members of the committee.

10. The captain shall be at liberty, from time to time, to appoint a member of the club to act as his deputy, such appointment to be notified in the club-room.

11. The general management of the club shall be entrusted to a committee of -- members, and -- shall form a quorum; such committee to be chosen by ballot at the first general meeting in February in each year.

12. A general meeting shall be held in every month, in the club-room, during the rowing season, and at such time and place during the winter as may be selected by the committee.

13. A notice containing the names of candidates for election at the general meeting shall be sent to every member of the club.

14. Any member who shall wilfully or by gross negligence damage any property belonging the club shall immediately have the same repaired at his own expense. The question of the damage being or not being accidental shall be decided by the committee from such evidence as they may be able to obtain.

15. A general meeting shall have power to expel any member from the club who has made himself generally obnoxious; but no ballot shall be taken until fourteen days' notice shall have been given; one black ball to three white to expel such member. This rule shall not be enforced except in extraordinary cases, and until the member complained of shall have been requested by the committee to resign.

16. No crew shall contend for any public prize, under the name of the club, without the sanction of the committee. All races for money are strictly prohibited.

17. The committee shall have the management of all club matches.

18. The rules and by-laws of the club shall be printed, and posted in the club-room, and the copy sent to every member; and any member who shall wilfully persist in the infraction of any such rules or by-laws shall be liable to be expelled.

19. Any member wishing to propose any alteration in the rules of the club shall give notice in writing to the secretary, two weeks prior to the question being discussed, when, if the notice be seconded, a ballot shall be taken, and to carry the proposed alteration the majority in favour must be two to one.

20. The committee shall have power to make, alter, and repeal by-laws.

By-Laws.

1. The boats of the club shall be for the general use of the members on all days during the season (Sundays excepted), subject to the following by-laws.

2. That no visitor be permitted to row in a club boat to the exclusion of a member of the club.

3. That the club day be -- in each week during the season, and the hour of meeting --.

4. That on club days members be selected by the captain (or in his absence by his deputy) to form crews; the members present at the hour of meeting to have priority of claim. Should the decision of the captain or his deputy be considered unsatisfactory by the majority of members present, the matter in dispute shall be settled by lot.

5. All boats shall be returned to the boathouse by ten o'clock at night, except on club days, when club boats taken out before the usual hour must be returned half an hour before the time fixed for meeting. Any expense incurred by the club through an infringement of this by-law shall be paid by the member offending.

6. Any dispute as regards rowing in any particular boat or boats shall be settled by lot, this provision having reference more particularly to club days.

7. In the event of there being more members present than can be accommodated in the club boats, it shall be at the discretion of the captain or his deputy, or of such members of the committee as may be present, to hire extra boats at the expense of the club.

8. The committee shall from time to time appoint one of their number to superintend the management of the boathouse, and to make all necessary arrangements for keeping the boats of the club in a thorough state of repair and cleanliness.

9. All crews sent by the club to contend at a public regatta shall be formed by the captain and two other experienced members to be named by the committee, such crews when formed to be subject to the approval of the committee.

10. In the event of a crew being chosen to contend in any public race or match, such crew shall be provided by the club with a boat for their exclusive use during their time of training, and shall have their entrance-fees paid by the club.

11. The expense of conveying boats to public regattas at which crews of the club contend shall be paid by the crews, but the committee shall have power to repay the whole or any part of such expenses out of the club funds.

12. The committee, on the occasion of a club race or other special event, shall appoint a member of the club to take charge of and conduct all arrangements connected with the same.

13. The member pulling the stroke-oar in any club boat shall have command of the crew.

14. Upon the arrival of a crew at the place appointed for stopping, the captain of the boat shall (if required) fix the time for returning; and, if any member be absent at the appointed time, the crew shall be at liberty to hire a substitute at the expense of the absentee.

15. Every member, on landing from a club boat, shall be bound to assist in housing such boat, and in doing so shall follow the direction of the captain or other officer.

16. Any member using a private boat without the consent of its owner shall thereby render himself liable to a vote of censure, and, if need be, expulsion.

Clubs are often but ephemeral. Some leading spirit founds one, and, when his influence vanishes with himself, the club wanes; perhaps it pales before a rival, perhaps it amalgamates with another. From various causes many minor clubs have risen and set on the Thames within the writer's memory during the last two decades; others which were in full swing when he was at school or college have ceased to exist. In the summer of 1886 this question of extinction of small clubs became a subject of correspondence in the aquatic columns of the 'Field.' Subsequently the writer of this chapter discussed the question in the following leading article, published in the 'Field' on July 17, 1886, and now reproduced by the courtesy of the proprietors. It is given in extenso for the sake of the history and reminiscences embodied in it.

The Extinction of Small Rowing Clubs.

We published a fortnight ago a letter of complaint on this subject from a correspondent who signed himself 'Senior Oarsman.' We quite admit the fact that the tendency of the great rowing clubs of the Thames has been to absorb the numerous petty clubs which at one time abounded on the tideway, but we entirely fail to agree with his view that this consummation is to be deprecated, either in the interests of oarsmanship or of regattas. Our own opinion is, that four or five strong clubs raise the standard of rowing and the prestige of regattas to a far greater extent than if these same societies were split up into a dozen or more minor associations. We can remember when there were a large number of petty clubs of that description, many of them hailing from Putney. The ground-floor doors of the annexe to the 'Star and Garter' at Putney still commemorate the names of some of them, though the clubs have been extinct for ages. 'Nautilus' and 'Star' are among the titles which are still painted on the doors. Prior to the founding of the London Rowing Club in 1856, the rowing talent of the Thames was split up into many such small sections. None of them, save the 'Argonauts,' were fit to man one decent four between them. The L.R.C. consolidated these small societies for the time being; but there are always to be found oarsmen who prefer to pose as leaders of small-fry clubs rather than play second or third fiddle in first-class clubs. Hence, no sooner had the L.R.C. consolidated one batch of small clubs than others sprang into existence. At the date of the founding of the Metropolitan Regatta in 1866 there were once more a host of these minor societies on the Thames, and one of the causes of weakness in the executive of that regatta arose from the recognition of these small clubs by the L.R.C. as factors to be consulted in its organisation. These petty clubs had no chance of winning the open prizes, but they were keen to distinguish themselves and have a hand in the gathering, and accordingly the 'metropolitan' eights and pairs for local second-raters had to be established, in order to induce the small clubs to join the undertaking. The result of this policy was, that before long the L.R.C. provided by far the larger proportion of the funds for the regatta, and yet had to defer to the majority of votes of the small clubs in the matter of executive. At that date Kingston was the only other club (except those of the U.B.C's.) which was up to Grand Challenge form, like the L.R.C. Since that date there has been an expansion of other strong clubs, and, as a necessary corollary, a gradual decay of minor ones. Thames has grown to be a worthy rival of London, and has done much to raise the standard of oarsmanship. Leander has been revived, and Twickenham, which at one time (in the sixties) was quite a small local club, now comes out also in Grand Challenge form. This club have not yet actually landed the great prize, but they have more than once been good enough to win it, had they been fortunate enough to draw the best station. Besides these clubs, there has been the Molesey Club, which in 1875 and 1876 was capable of making the best crews gallop at Henley, and won the Senior fours at sundry minor Thames regattas later in the season. Its later absence from Henley is due to the retirement from active oarsmanship of Mr. H. Chinnery and others, whose personal energies alone sufficed to combat the difficulty of distance from London. Meantime, clubs like the Ariel, Corsair West London, Ino, and others have become 'fine by degrees and beautifully less,' until they expired of inanition. There are, and always will be, sundry ambitious second-class oarsmen who regret the extinction of societies of this sort, and who recall with regret the pot-hunting for junior prizes which sometimes fell in their way. But when we recollect that clubs of this stamp were conspicuously absent from the winning roll, and usually even from the competition in senior races in minor Thames regattas, we fail to see wherein rowing science suffers by their absorption. Junior oarsmen obtain far better instruction in the ranks of the crack clubs than they could hope to find in the small-fry institutions, and they have found this out. When men have matriculated as oarsmen in weak clubs, they constantly contract insidious faults of style, the result of being put to race in light boats before they have mastered the first principles of oarsmanship. If such men subsequently aspire to join the better clubs, they have a worse chance of attaining a seat in a first or even a second crew than if they had joined the big club at the outset, and had been carefully taught in tubs till they were fairly proficient. They have to be 'untaught' from a bad style before they can be moulded in a good one. The Thames cup eights at Henley are of a higher order now than they were seven or eight years ago, and we are inclined to ascribe this fact to the 'absorption' system, which not only strengthens the large clubs, but also provides better instruction for the rising generation than was the case when talent was more split up. Oarsmen of good standard who are really desirous of distinguishing themselves, and are not too proud to serve in the ranks of a big club after having held office in a smaller one, freely gravitate from minor to leading clubs. The juniors of their clubs follow their leaders, and so the minor clubs become gradually depleted.

We do not consider that regatta entries are practically injured by the development of the large clubs at the expense of the smaller ones. We have already said that these small clubs are of little or no use for senior races, whereas their ingredients, consolidated in larger bodies, create one or two more strong clubs which are good enough to produce competent senior crews, and so swell senior entries. We admit that to some extent junior entries may fall off in numbers, in consequence of the breaking up of petty clubs; but, even allowing this, we hold that the quality of junior entries increases in proportion as those juniors hail from a good club endowed with scientific coaching. Clubs whose powers are limited to the production of junior crews do not contribute much to the standard of oarsmanship, and at the same time they divert material which in good hands might attain a good standard. The many petty clubs of fifteen or twenty years ago used to labour, each by itself, through a whole season to produce just one junior crew; and this possibly won a race at last, on a sort of tontine principle, through the gradual victories of former opponents in junior races, which on each occasion removed a rival from the field of the future. The modern strong and first class clubs turn out one junior crew after another in the season; so that batch after batch of juniors are thus taken in hand, and competently coached during the season. Besides regatta rowing, there are club contests, and these are to be found in even greater abundance and variety under the management of the leading clubs, and afford more scope for rising oarsmen, than ever was the case in the expiring and expired minor clubs. We gave publicity to our correspondent's complaint, as a matter of fair play in a subject that might be of interest to many; but, all things considered, we come to the conclusion that his deductions break down in every respect, and that rowing and regattas alike benefit rather than lose by consolidation of material in the first-class clubs of the day.

* * *

EARLY AMATEURS.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE AMATEUR, HIS HISTORY AND DESCRIPTION.

The old theory of an amateur was that he was a 'gentleman,' and that the two were simply convertible terms. The amateur of old might make rowing his sport, so long as he did not actually make it his ostensible means of livelihood. The Leander oarsmen who matched themselves against University crews between 1830 and 1840 did not consider that they lost caste by rowing for a stake.

In 1831 Oxford and Leander rowed at Henley for 200l. a side, with watermen steering them. Much later than this it was not considered improper for two 'gentlemen' to row a match (or race one) for a mutual stake (not a bet). Until 1861, when the conditions of the Wingfield Sculls were remodelled at a meeting of ex-champions and old competitors, it had been the custom for all entries for that prize to pay a fee of 5l., and the winner swept the pool! No one dreamed of suggesting that this was in any way derogatory to the status of an amateur.

But as rowing became more popular, and more widely adopted as a pastime, it began to be felt that it was invidious to leave the question 'Is he an amateur?' to the local opinion of the regatta committee, before whom such a question might be raised. Oarsmen came to the conclusion that some written definition of the qualification was necessary; some hard and fast rule, prospective, if not retrospective. Till then, various executives had adopted various opinions as to what constituted an amateur. One year, about 1871, the Henley executive declined to recognise one of the local crews engaged in the 'Town Cup' as 'amateurs;' and on this ground refused to allow them to start for the Wyfold Cup. It was not alleged that any of this crew had ever laboured as a mechanic, or rowed for money. The allegation of the Henley executive was that this crew were not 'gentlemen amateurs,' and as such they declined to admit them. A few days later another regatta executive freely admitted this same crew, and none of the recognised amateur clubs opposed to them raised any objection to the local crew's status.

This variety of opinion led to consultation among certain old amateurs whose ideas were universally respected, and as a result, on April 10, 1878, a meeting was held at Putney, at which there were present-

Francis Playford, L.R.C., Chairman.

T. Edmund Hockin, Secretary, C.U.B.C.

T. C. Edwardes-Moss, President, O.U.B.C.

F. S. Gulston, Captain, London R.C.

Henry P. Marriott, for Secretary, O.U.B C.