The writer has in mind two such incidents which occurred to himself at different times while officiating as captain of a club. In each case the mutineer was the stroke, and the spes gregis. He resented being told to row slower, or faster, as the case might be, and presently flatly declined to be dictated to. In each case the boat was instantly ordered ashore, and the grumbler was asked to step out. His place was filled by some emergency man, he was left ashore, and was told at the end of the day that the captain regretted to be obliged to dispense with his services. In each case the rest of the crew buttonholed their late stroke, and put the screw upon him to beg pardon, and with success. The one stroke was reinstated at his old post; the other was also put back to the boat, but at No. 6. In both cases mutiny was stamped out once and for all. Of these two men it may be said that one eventually rose to be stroke of a winning University eight, and the other of a winning Grand Challenge crew. In each case they were great personal friends of the captain, and there was no interruption of social relations through the peremptory line of conduct pursued. Many old fellow-oarsmen of the writer will doubtless recognise these incidents, in which names are naturally omitted.

Punctuality is an important detail of discipline in a crew. It is a good system to order a fine to be levied by the secretary upon anyone who exceeds a certain limit of grace from the hour fixed for practice. It is better that the secretary or treasurer should levy it than the captain, because thereby the captain in this detail places himself under the subordinate officer’s jurisdiction, and is himself fined if he is late. He can do this without loss of dignity, and in fact adds to his influence by submitting as a matter of course to the general regulation. It spoils the discipline of a crew if a captain takes French leave for himself, and keeps his men dancing attendance upon him, and yet rates them when one of them similarly delays the practice.

EMBARKING.

In making up a crew a captain is often in an invidious position. It is said by cricketers that the danger of having a leading bowler for captain of an eleven is that he is often judicially blind as to the right moment for taking himself off. Similarly, for a stroke to be captain, or rather for a likely candidate for strokeship to be captain, may be productive of misunderstandings and mischief to the crew. In old days stroke and captain were synonyms. The ‘stroke’ was elected by the club. He was supposed to be the best all-round oar, and as such to be capable of setting the best stroke to the crew. His office attached itself to his seat. In sundry old college records of rowing we find the expression ‘a meeting of strokes,’ where in modern times we should speak of a ‘captains’ meeting.’ The U.B.C.’s departed from this tradition more than forty years ago. Since then captains have been found at all thwarts, even including that of the coxswain. Most college clubs followed the U.B.C. principle forthwith, but not all so. We can recall an incident to the contrary. At Queen’s College, Oxon, there remained a written rule that stroke should be captain as late as about 1862. In or about that year a Mr. Godfrey was rowing stroke of the Queen’s eight in the bumping races, and was ex-officio captain. He had previously stroked the Queen’s torpid, and with good success. One night during the summer races Queen’s got bumped (or failed to effect a bump). Some of the crew laid the blame of their failure upon their stroke, for having rowed, as they alleged, too rapid a stroke. A college meeting had to be called, and a new stroke to be ‘elected,’ before a change could be made in the order of the boat for the next night’s race! Mr. Godfrey was asked to resign his seat as stroke, which of course he did, and took the seat of No. 6. His successor was thus elected captain. Much sympathy for Mr. Godfrey’s unfortunate statutory deposition from command was openly expressed by out-college oarsmen, and the result was before long that a change was made in the code of the Queen’s College Boat Club, and its adaptation to that of the more advanced rules which found favour with the majority of the U.B.C.

However, just as a bowler at cricket is prone to be blind to his own weaknesses, and to be imbued with ambition to do too much with his own hands at moments when they have lost their cunning, so when a captain has claims, not superlative, to the after-thwart, there is always some danger lest his eagerness to do all he can may blind him as to the best choice for that seat. In some cases, as with (of late) Messrs. West and Pitman, respectively strokes and presidents of their U.B.C’.s, or in the cases of such oarsmen as Messrs. W. Hoare, W. R. Griffiths, M. Brown, J. H. D. Goldie, R. Lesley, H. Rhodes, &c., all of whom had won their spurs as first-class strokes before they were elected to the presidency, the coincidence of stroke and captain has done no harm and has found the best man in the right place. Nevertheless, it is advisable to caution all captains on this score, and to suggest to them that, when they find themselves sharing a candidature for an important seat, they will do well to ask the advice of some impartial mentor, and abide by it.

At Eton the traditional law of identity of stroke and captain held good, with natural Etonian conservatism, until a date even later than that of the previously related anecdote of Queen’s College. So far as we can recollect, the first instance in which an Eton eight was not stroked by its captain was in 1864. In that year Mr. (now Colonel) Seymour Corkran was captain of Eton. He was a sort of pocket Hercules, of great breadth and weight, scaling close upon 13 st. Eton crews were not then so heavy as in these days, and the wondrous old Eton ‘Mat-Taylor’ boat, which then was still in her prime, would not satisfactorily carry so heavy a weight in the stern. Mr. Corkran placed himself at No. 7, and installed a light-weight, Mr. Mossop, at stroke. In this year Eton won the Ladies’ Plate for the first time, University College leaving them to walk over for it, after University had had a severe losing race earlier in the day against the Kingston Rowing Club for the final heat of the Grand Challenge.

The duties of a captain are not confined to the mere selection of his racing crew for the moment, nor to the preservation of order and régime in the matter of training. If he is to do his duty by the club, he should be on duty pretty well all through the season. He should keep his eyes open to note any raw oarsman who shows signs of talent, and mark him to be tried and coached into form hereafter. A captain of an elective club can do much to maintain the credit of his flag by looking up suitable recruits who have not yet joined a leading club, and by inducing them to put themselves under his care, and to submit themselves for election. One of the best oars that ever rowed at Henley, who became an amateur champion (Mr. W. Long), was secured for the L.R.C. by the prompt energy of the then captain of that club, on the occasion of Mr. Long’s début at Henley Regatta. On that occasion he came from Ipswich, to row for the pairs, with a partner much inferior to himself. They did not win, but Mr. Long’s hitherto unknown merits were at once seen, and his enlistment in the L.R.C. ranks had very much to do with the long series of victories, especially in Stewards’ Cup and other four-oar races, which for some seasons afterwards attended the fortunes of the L.R.C.

Per contra, to show how a good oarsman may be going begging, in 1867 Mr. F. Gulston was not asked to row either by London or Kingston; he went to Paris to row in a pair-oar, and still the L.R.C. overlooked him, though he was a member of their club, and though the L.R.C. were entered for the international regatta on the Seine. Mr. Gulston was nearly, probably quite, as good an oarsman then as in his very best days; but his light, though not hid under a bushel, was openly disregarded by his club. Through the minor regattas of the summer he took refuge with an ‘Oscillators’ crew, and shoved three inferior men behind along at such a pace that next season it was impossible to ignore him. He became stroke of the L.R.C. Grand Challenge crew in 1868, and won the prize easily.