early period to have characterized the rowing man. I find that in 1831 a race was arranged between the captains of racing crews and the rest of the University, to take place on Tuesday, November 29. On Monday, the 28th, however, there arrived "a request from the Vice-Chancellor, backed by the tutors of the several colleges, that we should refrain from racing on account of the cholera then prevailing in Sunderland. We accordingly gave up the match forthwith, and with it another which was to have been rowed the same day between the quondam Etonians and the private school men." The secretary, however, adds this caustic comment, "It is presumed that Dr. Haviland, at whose instigation the Vice-Chancellor put a stop to the race, confounded the terms (and pronunciations?) 'rowing' and 'rowing,' and while he was anxious to stop any debauchery in the latter class of men, by a slight mistake was the means of preventing the healthy exercise of the former."
The umpire for the college races seems never to have been properly appreciated. Indeed, in 1834, the U.B.C. solemnly resolved "that the umpire was no use, ... and accordingly that Bowtell
should be cashiered. In consequence of this resolution, it was proposed and carried that the same person who had the management of the posts, lines, and starting the boats should also place the flags on the bumping-post, and receive for his pay 4s. a week, with an addition of 2s. 6d. at the end of the quarter in case the starting be well managed, but that each time the pistol misses fire 1s. should be deducted from his weekly pay."
In 1835, in consequence of the removal of the Chesterton Lock, the U.B.C. transferred the starting-posts to the reach between Baitsbite and First Post Corner, and there they have remained ever since.
Side by side with the college boat clubs, formed by the combination of their members for strictly imperial matters, regulating and controlling the inter-collegiate races, but never interfering with the internal arrangements and the individual liberty of the college clubs, the University Boat Club grew up. With two short but historical extracts from its early proceedings, I will conclude this cursory investigation into the records of the musty past. On February 20, 1829, at a meeting of the U.B.C. Committee, held in Mr. Gisborne's
rooms, it was resolved inter alia "That Mr. Snow, St. John's, be requested to write immediately to Mr. Staniforth, Christ Church, Oxford, proposing to make up a University match;" and on March 12, on the receipt of a letter from Mr. Staniforth, Christ Church, Oxford, a meeting of the U.B.C. was called at Mr. Harman's rooms, Caius College, when the following resolution was passed:—"That Mr. Stephen Davies (the Oxford boat-builder) be requested to post the following challenge in some conspicuous part of his barge: 'That the University of Cambridge hereby challenge the University of Oxford to row a match at or near London, each in an eight-oared boat, during the ensuing Easter vacation.'"
Thus was brought about the first race between the two Universities. Mr. Snow was appointed captain, and it was further decided that the University Boat Club should defray all expenses, and that the match be not made up for money. It is unnecessary for me to relate once again how the race was eventually rowed from Hambledon Lock to Henley Bridge, and how the Light Blues (who, by the way, were then the Pinks) suffered defeat by many lengths. The story has been
too well and too often told before. Each crew contained a future bishop—the late Bishop of St. Andrew's rowing No. 4 in the Oxford boat, whilst the late Bishop Selwyn, afterwards Bishop of New Zealand, and subsequently of Lichfield, occupied the important position of No. 7 for Cambridge. Of the remainder more than half were afterwards ordained.
So much, then, for the origins of College and University racing. Thenceforward the friendly rivalry flourished with only slight intermissions; gradually the race became an event. The great public became interested in it, cabmen and 'bus-drivers decorated their whips in honour of the crews, sightseers flocked to the river-banks to catch a glimpse of them as they flashed past, and their prowess was celebrated by the press. It is not, however, too much to say that without the keen spirit of emulation which is fostered by the college races both at Oxford and Cambridge, the University boat-race would cease to exist. Truly a light blue cap is to the oarsman a glorious prize, but there are many hundreds of ardent enthusiasts who have to content themselves with a place in the college boats in the Lent or the
May Term. Want of form, or of weight, or of the necessary strength and stamina may hinder them from attaining to a place in the University Eight, but they should console themselves by reflecting that without their patient and earnest labours for the welfare of their several colleges it would be impossible to maintain a high standard of oarsmanship, or to form a representative University Eight. Let me, therefore, be for a page or two the apologist, nay, rather the panegyrist, of the college oarsman, with whom many of my happiest hours have been spent.