And now to apply this illustration. If the object of the rower were to move his oar through the water—the boat being supposed for the moment to be a fixture—he could not do better than to adopt the Cambridge style of pulling. For this style gives a steady pressure on the oar at the beginning of the stroke, followed by a gradual increase, and ending by a sharp lift through the water. On the contrary, the Oxford style, in which arms and body apply all their strength at once to the oar, would probably, as in the case of our imaginary fixed boats, result in the fracture of the oar. If the boat were not fixed, but very heavy and clumsy, conclusions very different from the above would be arrived at. The Oxford style would be unsuitable to the propulsion of a heavy boat, because, although the oar would have very little slip through the water, yet the boat itself could not be moved in so sudden a manner as to make the applied force available. On the other hand, the Cambridge style would be very suitable; because, although there would be considerable 'slip' this would in any case be inevitable, and the force would be applied to the boat (as well as to the oar) in the gradual increasing manner best suited to produce motion through the water. Hence we can understand the long series of victories gained by the light-blue oarsmen in the 'old fashioned racing eights'. But when we come to consider the case of a boat like the present wager-boat—a boat which answers immediately to the slightest propelling force—we see that that mode of rowing must be the most effective which permits the oar to have the least possible motion through the water, which lifts the boat along from the water as from an almost stable fulcrum. Hence it is that that sharp grip of the water which is taken by London watermen, and by rowers at Oxford, Eton, Radley, and Westminster, is so much more effective than the heavy drag followed by a rapid and almost jerking finish which marks the Cambridge style.
The mention of public-school rowing leads me to urge another consideration. There are public-school oarsmen at Cambridge, and they hold, as might be supposed, a high position amongst university rowing-men. In general they form so small a minority of college racing-men, that they have to give up their own workmanlike style, and adopt the style of those they row with. But there is one club—the Third Trinity Club—which consists exclusively of Eton and Westminster men, and although it is a small club, it has been repeatedly at the head of the river, holding its own successfully against clubs which have sent in far heavier and better-trained crews. But even more remarkable is the fact that powerful college crews were sent from Cambridge to Henley between the years 1860-69 which have actually been unable to maintain their own against Eton lads! This of itself suffices to show that there was something radically wrong in the style then prevalent at Cambridge; for in such races age, weight, strength, and length of practice were all in favour of the Cambridge crews.
When I first expressed these views about the Oxford and Cambridge style in the 'Daily News' in April 1869, several Oxford and Cambridge men denied that the difference between the two styles was that which I have indicated, asserting that neither Oxford nor Cambridge oarsmen advocated working with the arms in the beginning of the stroke. It was so great a novelty to myself to learn, in 1858, that London watermen row in the manner I have described, and I found the very watermen who rowed in that way so confidently denying that they did so, that I was not greatly surprised to find many University men, and not a few of the first University oarsmen, persisting that the rules laid down in 'Principles of Rowing' before the modern racing-boats were used are still valid and are still followed at Oxford as well as Cambridge. It was denounced as a special heresy to teach that work should be done by the arms at the beginning of the stroke, instead of the old rule being followed according to which the arms were to remain straight till the body was upright in the backward swing, the work being done entirely by the body and legs up to that moment, and then finished by the arms. But before I ventured to enunciate a theory on the subject I had been careful to apply a number of tests not only while watching Oxford and Cambridge eights, but in actual practice. I had inquired diligently also of those who are not merely able to adopt a good rowing style but to analyse it, so as to learn precisely where and how they do their work. In some cases, I found first-rate oarsmen had given very little thought to the matter; but on the question being put to them, they quickly recognised the essential principles on which the most effective and the least tiring style for the modern racing-boat depends. One such oarsman said to me, after giving a few days' trial as well as thought to the matter—'You are quite right; arms, legs, and body must work together from the very beginning'; the work is done when the body comes upright; and not only must this be so for the work to be done in the most effective way, but it is essential also if the hands are to be quickly disengaged, the recovery quick, and a good reach forward obtained.
I found, however, that the essential distinction between a good style in the modern racing eight, and a good style in the old-fashioned boats, had been recognised (at least, so far as the modern boats are concerned) a year before my article in the 'Daily News' appeared. In an article on 'Water Derbies,' 'Wat Bradwood,' describing the University race of 1868, draws the following distinctions between the two crews, which precisely accord with my own observations on that occasion; only it is to be noticed that, whereas he is describing the beginning of the race, the whole of which he witnessed from the Umpire's boat, my observations were made from the shore not far from the finish, when Oxford was so far ahead that there was ample time to note separately and closely the style of each boat:—'The styles of progress of the two boats themselves are palpably distinct,' he says; 'Cambridge take a shorter time to come through the air than to row through the water; they go much farther backward than Oxford, and are very slow in getting the hands off the chest; their boat is drawn through the water at each stroke, but has hardly any perceptible "lift." Oxford, on the other hand, swing just the reverse of Cambridge, a long time in getting forward' (he means of course, a relatively longer time, for no good oarsman would ever take a long time in getting forward), 'and very fast through the water, driving the oars through with a hit like sledgehammers, while the boat jumps out of the water several inches at each stroke.' These last words again relate rather to contrast between the boats than to the actual lift. The 'drag at the end' in the Cambridge style used always to dip the nose of the eight, whereas the quick disengagement of the hands in the Oxford style prevents any dipping, so that by contrast the Oxford boat seen beside the Cambridge seemed lifted at the end of each stroke. In reality there was very little if any lifting, though the sharp grip of the water at the beginning of the stroke caused the boat to dip a little as compared with her position at the end. Theoretically, the less change of level throughout the stroke (from feather to finish) the better; but if there is any such change, it is far better it should be of the nature of a lift above the flotation-level than of the nature of a dip below that level.
Again, towards the close of the same article 'Wat Bradwood' made the following pertinent remarks respecting the Oxford style in 1868 and generally: 'The general style of Oxford has not deteriorated; though many outsiders fancied that Oxford rowed a short stroke, it was more that the time occupied by them in slashing the oar through the water was short than the reach itself; this deceived inexperienced eyes, especially when compared to the slow 'draw through' (query 'drag') of Cambridge, which often appeared for similar reasons a longer stroke than it really was.[14] He attributed the defeat of the Cantabs, who were a stronger set of men than the Oxonians, to the teaching of their 'coach,' who had been (though this he does not mention) as good a 'coach' as ever existed for rowing in the old fashioned style of boats, but whose 'experience availed nothing to teach the modern style of light-boat rowing.'
In another article by the same writer, in the 'Pall Mall Gazette,' (1868), a noteworthy illustration is given of the value of a good style. 'Among the college boats in the first division at Cambridge this year, the strongest were perhaps First Trinity, Trinity Flail, and notably Emmanuel; the weakest in the division was the Lady Margaret crew,'—the crew representing St. John's College. 'But notwithstanding this, Lady Margaret went up one place, and pressed Trinity very hotly. There must, of course, be some special reason to account for eight weak men proving superior to eight strong ones.' There is a little (unintentional) exaggeration here; the stroke of the Lady Margaret crew was a strong as well as an elegant oarsman, and two others of the crew could certainly not be called weak; nevertheless the crew as a whole was undoubtedly weak compared with most of the other crews of the first division, 'That reason,' proceeds our author, 'is to be found in style. Every day of practice on the Cam you hear the "coaches" of the different racing-boats giving their crews certain directions, some absurd, and nearly all, from some accidental reason, useless. The chief of these is to "keep it long," and if you object to the results of this teaching, you are told that "length" is the great requisite of good rowing, and that "Oxford, sir, always beat us, because they are longer than we are." Now, this is true and yet untrue. At Cambridge "length" is acquired by making the men "finish the stroke," that is, by making them "swing well back" beyond the perpendicular. Of course the oar remains longer in the water, but we maintain that the extra time it is kept there by the backward motion of the body is time lost. The "swinging back" throws a tremendous strain on the abdominal muscles, the weakest rowing muscles in the body; very soon the men feel this strain, become exhausted, and unable to "get forward," and finally lose time and swing and "go all to pieces." Length obtained by going backwards is of no possible use. A crew ought to be "coached" to get as far forward as they can, to finish the stroke by bringing their elbows past their sides, and their hands well into their bodies, and then complaints about "wind" and "last" will be fewer. This was abundantly proved in the late May races. First Trinity, it is true, kept "head," but only because of their great strength, and because they had a stroke who understood the duties of his position. Before, the races every sporting newspaper, every supposed judge of rowing in the University, was certain about only one thing, and that was that Lady Margaret must go down; the only question was where they would stop. They, however, not only kept away from Trinity Hall, but finished above Emmanuel and Third Trinity, infinitely stronger' (which no doubt must be understood as meaning 'far stronger') 'boats. The reason was that they were the only boat on the river which rowed in anything like a good style. They had the reach forward, the quick recovery, and the equally quick disengagement of the hands, which marked the Oxford crew of 1868. Consequently although a very weak lot of men, they were able to vindicate style against strength. We hope' (added Wat Bradwood) 'that Cambridge generally will appreciate the lesson; it is one that has not been taught them for years, and results on their own river ought to show its value.' Less than a year after this was written, the Cambridge boat, with Goldie, the Lady Margaret stroke, at the aft thwart, were just beaten by Oxford in one of the best races ever rowed, and the year after, with the same stroke, they won for the first time in ten years. The subsequent successes of the Jesus boat on the Cam afforded further illustrations of the superiority of style over strength. For the Jesus boat has remained for years at the head of the river, though the crew as a whole has often been far surpassed in strength by the crews of Trinity, John's, and other colleges.
There is, as the writer from whom I have quoted above correctly says, 'no opposition between theory and practice in this matter, any more than there is in metaphysics or moral philosophy.' The ill-success of Cambridge in past years was in the main due to a want of appreciation of theory, and the absence of due recognition of the entire change which the introduction of the light outrigged racing-boat had produced in the art of effective rowing. The Cambridge 'finish to the stroke,' the 'lug at the end,' as sailors call it, was excellent with the old fashioned boats. It was indeed essential to success in a race, as was the lightning feather. But now the essential conditions are a sharp grasp of the water at the beginning of the stroke, the intensest possible action then and throughout the time the oar is in the water, so that the oar may be as short a time as possible in the water, but in the time may have the largest possible range. This result must not merely be obtained from each individual member of the crew, but from all together in precisely the same time. It is necessary that the stroke should mark the time in the most distinct and emphatic manner. In the Cambridge style, or what at least used so to be called, perfect time, though of course always desirable, was not so absolutely essential as in the Oxford style. The oars being a long time in the water, it mattered less if any oarsman was for a small fraction of a second behind or in advance of his fellows. But with the sharp dash upon the water and the quick tear through the water of the better style, perfect simultaneity is all-important. The stroke must not only have first a good style himself, and secondly a keen sense of time, but he must have that power of making his crew know and feel what he is doing, and what he wants them to do, which constitutes the essential distinction between the merely steady stroke and such a stroke as every man of the crew feels to be made for the place. When one of these 'born strokes' occupies the aft thwart, there is no occasion for the coxswain to tell the crew when to quicken or when to row steadily at their hardest; for the whole crew knows and feels the purpose of the stroke as distinctly as he knows and feels it himself.
The following paragraph, written a few days before the race (1879) is left unaltered. I may note that Marriott, the successful Oxford stroke of 1878, so far succeeded in improving the style of the Oxford boat when he took the aft thwart in '79 (far too late by the way), that Cambridge did not win by anything like the expected distance.
[Since the above was written I have seen both the crews for the present year's race at work. It is too early to venture a prediction as to the result of the race, though the odds offered on Cambridge would seem to imply that nothing short of an accident can save Oxford from a crushing defeat. It is manifest that Cambridge has the stronger crew, and the style of the Oxford crew at present is not such as to indicate that this year the Oxford style will defeat superior strength. In fact, at present, Oxford shows defects which have been wont to characterise Cambridge crews, and which unmistakably do characterise the present Cambridge crew, fine though it undoubtedly is. But if, as has before now happened, the Oxford crew fall into the true Oxford style during the fortnight before the race, the odds will not be 2 to 1 as at present, nor even 3 to 2, on Cambridge.]
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