Notwithstanding the hasty predictions of people who could not approve of what was originated and carried out without requiring their advice, the regatta brought together a splendid body of the best oarsmen and canoeists in the world from England, France, and America. Three Champions of England for the first time contended at the same place. The most renowned watermen came from Thames and Tyne and Humber, and eight-oared boats raced for the first time on the Seine. The weather was magnificent, the course was in perfect order, and better than almost any other of equal length near any capital; the arrangements made were the very best that might be contrived under the peculiarly difficult circumstances which could not be controlled, even by a committee comprising the very best men for the purpose, and zealous in their work; and lastly the racing itself, for spirit and for speed, and for that exciting interest which is caused by equal excellence sustained during well-contested struggles, was never surpassed.
But this grand exhibition of water athletics was not seen by more than a few hundreds of persons, so that “Tribunes,” richly draped, and with streamers flying above, and seats below for 1000 visitors, often had not three people there at a time.
The French oarsmen must have been absent at some “better” place, and of the French public you might see more of them assembled on the roadside round a dancing dog. The Emperor could not come—perhaps Bismarck would not let him, and as the Prince of Wales had to be in his proper place as the representative of England, receiving the Sultan in London, this important duty prevented His Royal Highness from enjoying the pleasure he might well have counted upon after the trouble he had taken in connection with the British Regatta in Paris.
But after stating this disappointment bluntly, it will be remembered by all who were at St. Cloud, that there was a great deal of real amusement, as well as of hard work, and the whole had a strange novelty both in its charms and its troubles.
For crews in “hard training” to sit down to bifteck, and Medoc, omelette, and haricots verts, with strawberries and cream, and bad French jabbered round, was certainly a novelty. To see a group of London watermen, addressed in unknown tongues, but perfectly self-possessed, visiting the Exhibition in the morning and rowing a race in the afternoon, was new; and to observe the complete bewilderment of soldiers and police at the whole proceedings, which came upon them of course with surprise in a country where no one reads the papers for an advertisement, except about a new play, or an infallible pill—all this was very amusing to those who could listen and look on.
The English rowing-men soon made themselves as comfortable as they could in their new quarters, and suffered patiently the disagreeables of French lodgings. They repaired their boats, often broken by the transit from London, and behaved with good humour in proportion to their good sense. Even the grumblers were satisfied, because they were provided with a new set of grievances; and so things passed off better than was expected by those who knew the real circumstances of the venture. It was the first regatta of the kind, and doubtless it will be the last.
No particular description of the various races for eight-oars, four-oars, pair-oars, and sculling, by watermen and amateurs, would be interesting to general readers; but a few notable lessons were there to be learned, which will probably not be disregarded.
An interesting feature was added to the occasion by the arrival of four men, who came from New Brunswick, to row at this regatta. They had no coxswain to steer them, as every other boat had, but the rudder was worked by strings leading to one of the rowers’ feet.
They contended first in a race where it was not allowed to use “outrigged” boats (so called because they are so narrow that the oars cannot work on the gunwale, but are rigged out on iron frames). Moreover, they rowed in a broad, heavy, clumsy-looking craft, with common oars like those used at sea, and they pulled a short jerky stroke, and had to go round a winding French course—indeed with apparently every disadvantage; yet they came in first, beating English and French, and winning 40l.
The same crew went in next for another race, and in another boat, an outrigger they had brought with them from the Dominion of Canada, and again they were first, and won 40l. more. [128] At once “Les Canadiens” became the favourites and heroes of the day. Englishmen cheered them because they were the winners, and some Frenchmen cheered them because they supposed the men were French, whereat the hardy Canadians smiled with French politeness, but muttering the while round protestations, intelligible only to English ears.