CHAPTER XVI. WATERMEN AND PROFESSIONALS.

Previous

The London waterman is the oldest type of professional oarsmanship. He was called into existence for the purpose of locomotion, and race-rowing was a very secondary consideration with him in the first instance. Just as in the present day credentials of respectability are required by the Commissioners of Police of drivers of cabs and omnibuses (and none may ply for hire in these capacities within the metropolis unless duly licensed), so in olden days great stress was laid on the due qualification of watermen. An aspirant was and is required to serve seven years’ apprenticeship before he can be ‘free’ of the river, and until he is ‘free’ of it he may not ply for hire upon it under heavy penalties for so doing. This regulation is in the interests of public safety. If apprentices exhibit special talent for rowing they can win what are called ‘coats and badges,’ given by certain corporate bodies, and by so doing they can take up their ‘freedom’ without paying fees for the privilege. We believe that no such restrictions exist on our other British rivers. The rule survives on the Thames because in olden times the Thames was a highway for passenger traffic in ‘wherries.’ In those times, where a passenger would now go to a thoroughfare or call a cab, he would have gone to the nearest ‘stairs’ and have hailed a wherry. London had not then grown to its present dimensions, and the Thames lay conveniently as a highway between Westminster, the City, and the docks.

Amateurs began to take up rowing early in the present century as a sport; and these contests seem to have fostered the idea of match-making among watermen. The title of a Champion of the Thames seems first to have been held by one R. Campbell, who beat C. Williams, another waterman, in a match on September 9, 1831, and also beat R. Coombes in a match the date of which is doubtful, but it was in heavy boats. Campbell was a powerful and heavy man, while Coombes weighed less that ten stone. Coombes turned the tables on Campbell a few years later (in 1846), and for some years Coombes was held to be invincible. In those times London watermen could, at scratch, man an eight to hold or even beat the best trained crew of amateurs. The original waterman’s wherry was a vehicle of conveyance; it was of much greater size than would be required to carry one man alone in a sheer contest for speed, but so soon as ‘racing’ came into vogue among watermen, lighter craft were built for matches, and were called ‘wager’ boats. The hull of the wherry was constructed as narrow as possible, and the sides flared out just at the greatest beam, so as to allow of sufficient width to carry the rowlocks with the requisite leverage for the sculls. This detail has already been treated in Chapter XI. under the head of ‘boat building.’

Coombes had been beaten by Campbell in old-fashioned wherries, such as could be used for the business of conveying passengers. When he in turn defeated Campbell both men used ‘wager boats.’ The time came when years told on Coombes, and he had to yield to his own pupil Cole. Coombes was not convinced by his defeat, and made another match, but Cole this time won with greater ease. They rowed in ‘outriggers’ on these occasions. Cole in turn succumbed to Messenger of Teddington in 1855, and two years later Harry Kelley, the best waterman the Thames ever produced, either as an oarsman or as a judge of rowing, beat Messenger. Up to this time London watermen had been considered invincible at sculling. Harry Clasper had produced four-oar crews from the Tyne to oppose Coombes and his four, but no Tyne sculler had dared to lay claim to the Championship. However, in 1859 Robert Chambers was matched with Kelley, and to the horror of the Thames men their favourite was beaten, and with considerable ease. The Tyne man was the bigger, and had a very long sweep with his sculls; on that day he showed to great advantage, the more so because Kelley was not sculling up to his best form. Defeated men can always suggest excuses for failure, and Kelley, for years after that race, averred that he had not been beaten on his merits; he had been kept waiting a long time at the post, and was cold and stiff at the start. In those days, whether in University matches or in public sculling races, the lead was a matter of special importance. In the first place the old code of rules were in force, which enabled a leading sculler to take his opponent’s water, to wash him, to retain the captured course, and to compel his adversary to row round him in order to pass him. Secondly, and even more important, was the action of the crowds of steamers which followed such races. The Thames Conservancy had no control over them, and they would lie half-way up Putney Reach waiting for a race, and then steam alongside of or even ahead of the sternmost competitor. Their paddles drew away the water from him, and caused him literally to row uphill. Under such circumstances even the champion of the day would have found it next to impossible to overhaul even an apprentice sculler, if the latter were in clear water ahead of the steamer fleet and the former were a few lengths behind in the ‘draw’ of the paddles.

River scene with old-fashioned waterman

THAMES WATERMAN—CIRC. 1825.

All this was well known, and could be seen any day in an important Thames race (the hollowness of the Oxford wins of 1861 and 1862 against Cambridge was undoubtedly owing to the treatment which the Cantabs experienced from the steamers when once the lead had become decisive). Kelley argued to his friends that all that could be said of the race was that he could not go as fast that day as Chambers for the first mile, and that after this point, whether or not he could have rowed down his opponent was an open question, for the steamers never gave him a chance of fair play. However, for a long time Kelley could not find backers for a new match. Meantime, Tom White and Everson in turn tried their luck against Chambers and were hopelessly beaten. In 1863 Green the Australian came to England to make a match with Chambers. Green was a square, powerful man, about Kelley’s height, but a stone heavier. He sculled upright in body, and with too much arm work for staying power, and did not make enough use of his body, especially as to swing back at the end of the stroke. He sculled a fast stroke, and so long as his arms lasted went a tremendous pace. Kelley and he fraternised, and practised together. When the match came off against Chambers, Green went right away for a mile, and then maintained his lead of three or more clear lengths for another half-mile. Chambers sculled rather below his form at first, wildly, as if flurried at being so easily led, but off Craven he settled down to his old long sweep, and held Green. The end came suddenly; off the Soap Works Green collapsed, clean rowed out, and Chambers finished at his leisure. This match did Kelley good with his friends, for they knew that he could always in private practice go by Green after a mile or so had been sculled, quite as easily as Chambers eventually had done. Proposals were broached for a match between the cracks of the Thames and Tyne, and although the Tyne party pressed to have the race on the Tyne, they gave way at last, and the venue was the Thames. The stakes were 200l. a side, as usual in Champion matches, and there was also a staked ‘bet’ of 300l. to 200l. on Chambers. (The race was on August 8, 1865.) The Tyne man was a strong favourite at the start, but Kelley got away with the lead, and was never again caught, winning cleverly by four lengths, and sculling in form such as was never seen before or after, on old-fashioned fixed seats. Just at this time there was a speedy Tyne sculler called Cooper; he lately had sculled a mile match with Chambers on the Tyne, and Chambers had won by one yard only, in a surf which was all in favour of the bigger man (Chambers). A week or two after the aforesaid Champion race, Kelley, Cooper, and Chambers met for a 300l. sweepstake (specially got up for these three men, over the two-mile tidal course of the ‘Eau Brink Cut’ at King’s Lynn). Both Kelley and Chambers had been indulging a little after their Champion’s training. Cooper, who had been lately beaten by Chambers in the Thames Regatta, for a 50l. purse (Hammersmith to Putney), was very fit, and jumped away from both the cracks. Chambers was short of wind, and was never in the race. Kelley stuck to Cooper, and rowed him down half a mile from the finish. Cooper then rowed across Kelley, fouled him, and drove him ashore. Cooper was properly disqualified on the foul. Next year Hammill the American came over to scull Kelley, and the races took place on the Tyne. One race was end on end, and the other round a stake boat. Kelley won each race with utter ease. Hammill’s style was an exaggeration of Green’s, all arm work, and a stroke up to 55 a minute at the start. About this time J. Sadler was rising to fame. He had been a chimney-sweep, and afterwards was ‘Jack in the water’ to Simmonds’ yard at Putney. He, unfortunately for himself, exposed much of his merits when rowing for the Thames Regatta Sculls in 1865, and instead of making a profitable series of matches up the scale, beginning with third-rate opponents, he had to make his first great match with T. Hoare, who was reputed second only to Kelley on the Thames. Sadler beat Hoare easily, and was at the close of 1866 matched to scull Chambers for the Championship, Kelley having ‘retired’ from the title (Kelley and Sadler were allies at the time, and Sadler was Kelley’s pupil). In the match Sadler went well and fast at Hammersmith, and then tired, fouled Chambers, and lost the race.

In the following year Kelley and Chambers were once more matched. Kelley came out of his retirement in consequence of some wrangling which had arisen out of the previous defeat of his pupil Sadler by Chambers. The new match took place on the Tyne, on a rough day and with a bad tide, on May 6. Kelley won and with some ease. It was evident that Chambers was no longer the man that he had been. He never again sculled for the Championship, but he took part in the Paris International Regatta in July of the same year. Very soon after this his lungs showed extensive disease, and he gradually sank of decline.En passant we may say of Chambers that, apart from grand physique and science as an oarsman, he displayed qualities throughout his career which would stamp him as a model for champions of the present day. He was always courteous, never puffed up with success, never overbearing, and yet at the same time always fondly confident in his own powers and stamina. A more honourable man never sat in a boat. The writer recalls a little incident as characteristic of Chambers. Just before the 1865 match against Kelley, he accosted Chambers at Putney and asked him if he wished to sell his boat after the match. (It was a common practice for Tyne scullers to do this, to save the cost of conveyance back to the Tyne.) Chambers replied, he would sell her. The writer asked if he might try her after the race. ‘Hoot mon,’ said Chambers, ‘try her noo, if ye like.’ Now the writer was known to be an ally of Kelley (who usually accompanied him when training on the tideway for sculling races). In these days we much doubt whether any championship candidate would allow a third person—whether amateur or professional—known to be in sympathy with his opponent, to set foot in his racing craft on the eve of a match. Nothing would be easier than to have an ‘accident’ with her; and all scullers know that to have to adopt a strange boat on the day of a match would be a most serious drawback. That Chambers never for a moment harboured such suspicion of his rivals shows that he judged them by his own faultless standard of fair play.

Not that we suggest for an instant that amateurs of this or of former days were ever suspected of being prone to foul play, but none the less do we believe that in these days few scullers in such a position as Chambers would have made the gratuitous offer which he did upon the occasion referred to.

In the autumn of 1867, Kelley and his pupil, J. Sadler, fell out; the result was a Champion match between them. On the first essay Kelley came in first after having been led, and having fairly tired Sadler out. But a foul had occurred when Kelley was giving Sadler the go-by, and the referee was unable to decide which was in the wrong. He accordingly ordered them to row again next day. The articles of the match provided for a start by ‘mutual consent,’ and somehow Sadler did not ‘consent’ at any moment when Kelley was ready. Strong opinions were expressed by several persons who watched the affair from the steamers, and eventually the referee ordered Kelley to row over the course. The stakes were awarded to Kelley by the referee, but Sadler brought an action against the stakeholder, M. J. Smith, then proprietor of the ‘Sportsman’ newspaper. The case became a cause cÉlÈbre. The Court decided that the referee had acted ultra vires in awarding the stakes to Kelley, inasmuch as he had not first taken the trouble to observe for himself Sadler’s manoeuvres at the starting post. He had formed his opinion from hearsay and separate statements. Eventually both parties withdrew their stakes.

In the year 1868 a new sculler of extraordinary merit came suddenly to the fore. The late Mr. J. G. Chambers, C.U.B.C., had got up a revived edition of the old Thames professional regattas, and with a liberal amount of added money. The sculls race brought out all the best men of the day, and among them Kelley; the distance was the full metropolitan course. Renforth, a Tyne sculler, electrified all by the ease with which he won. He was a heavier man than Kelley; he had a rather cramped finish at the chest, but a tremendous reach and grip forward. He slid on the seat to a considerable extent, especially when spurting.

Kelley was rather over weight at the time, and excuses were made for him on this score. As a matter of prestige he had to defend his title to the championship in a match, and he met Renforth on November 17. He made a better fight on that day than in the regatta sculls, but the youth and strength of Renforth were too much for the old champion. Renforth remained in undisputed possession until his death, which took place under very tragic circumstances during a four-oared match between an English and Canadian crew in Canada. The Englishmen were well ahead, when Renforth, rowing stroke, faltered, fainted, and died shortly after reaching shore. Some attributed his death to poison, some to epilepsy. The matter remains a mystery.

Sadler was now tacitly acknowledged to be the best sculler left in the kingdom (Kelley having retired). But Sadler could not claim the title of champion without winning it in a match. At last, in 1874, a mediocre Tyne sculler named Bagnall was brought out to row him for the title, and Sadler won easily enough.[17] Next year R. W. Boyd was the hope of the Tyne. He had a bad style for staying. He was all slide and no body swing; his body at the end of the stroke was unsupported by any leg work. So long as the piston action of his legs continued he went fast, but when the legs began to tire he stopped as if shot. His bad style was the result of his having taken to a slide before he had mastered the first principles of rowing upon a fixed seat, or had learned how to swing his body from the hips. Sadler, on the other hand, had been rowing for years on fixed seats before he ever saw a sliding seat; the veteran did not discard his old body swing when he took to the slide, but simply added slide to swing, whereas Boyd substituted slide for swing. The difference in style between the two was most marked when they showed in the race. Boyd had youth and strength on his side. Sadler was getting old and stale, his hair was grey, and he was not nearly so good as when he had rowed Kelley in 1867 (save that the slide added mechanically to his powers for speed). Boyd darted away with a long lead; before a mile had been crossed his piston action began to flag and his boat to go slower. Sadler plodded on, and when once up to him left him as if standing still, led easily through Hammersmith Bridge, and won hands down. Boyd never seemed to profit by this lesson. He stuck to his bad style so long as he was on the water, else he might have made a good sculler.

[17] This was the first champion race rowed on sliding seats.

In 1876 Australia once more challenged England. Sadler was the holder of the championship, and Trickett was the crack of Australia. The Australian was a younger and bigger man than Sadler; he slid well, but he bent his arms much too early in the stroke. This would tend to tire them prematurely, and if the pace could be kept up, Trickett would soon have realised the effects of this salient fault of his. But Sadler was older, staler, and more grizzled than ever. He made a poor fight against Trickett, and a few weeks later in the Thames Regatta Sculls he came in nowhere, finishing even behind old ‘Jock’ Anderson, who never had been more than a third-rate sculler. Enough was then seen to show that our best sculler, as to style, was hopelessly old and stale, and that our new men, even if faster than he, had no style to make them worthy to uphold the old country’s honours on the water. Trickett returned to Australia without trying conclusions with any other of our scullers for the championship. He made a match with Lumsden, a Tyne man, but the latter forfeited. If at the moment it had been known that the Sadler of 1876 was some ten lengths in the mile inferior to the Sadler of 1875, it is likely that Lumsden would have gone to the post, and that some other British sculler would also have endeavoured, while there was time, to arrange a match with the Australian.

The title of Champion of the World had now left England. Sadler retired, and there was still an opening for candidature for his abandoned title. As regards the now purely local honours of the representatives of Britain in sculling, Mr. Charles Bush, a well-known supporter of professional sculling, had found a coal-heaver, by name Higgins, who had shown good form in a Thames regatta, and was looked upon as the rising man of the Thames. There was also a rising sculler of the name of Blackman, who had won the Thames Regatta Sculls. Higgins was matched for champion honours against Boyd, and the match came off on May 20, 1877, The wind blew a gale from S.W., and Boyd had the windward station. In such a cross wind station alone sufficed to decide the race, and Boyd won easily. The two met again on October 8 of the same year, and Higgins proved himself the better stayer of the two. He had a better idea of sliding than Boyd, and used his legs better and swung farther back. Boyd stuck to his piston action, and was rowed out in six minutes. They met a third time on the following January 11, this time on the Tyne, and once more Higgins won, after a foul. He was plainly the better man of the two for any distance beyond a mile.

In the succeeding summer a Durham pitman, one W. Elliott, came out as a Championship candidate. He was short and thick-set, and was decidedly clumsy at his first essay. He met Higgins, and was beaten easily. He improved rapidly and came out again the following September. The proprietors of the ‘Sportsman’ had established a challenge cup, to be won by three successive victories, under certain conditions. Higgins, Boyd, and Elliott competed for it, and Elliott beat them both. The final heat was on September 17. In the following year, 1879, Elliott and Higgins met on the Tyne, on February 21, and once more Elliott held his own. He remained the representative of British professional sculling until the arrival of Edward Hanlan in this country.

Hanlan first attracted notice at the Philadelphia regatta of 1876. Mr. R. H. Labat, of the Dublin University, London, and Thames Rowing Clubs, took part in that regatta, and entered into conversation with Hanlan. He, as one of the L.R.C. men, lent Hanlan a pair of sculls for the occasion, and with them Hanlan won the Open Professional Sculling Prize. He beat among others one Luke, who had beaten Higgins in a trial heat. Higgins was at the moment suffering from exertions in a four-oared race earlier in the day, so that his defeat did not occasion much surprise; but Mr. Labat on his return to England told the writer of this chapter that in his opinion Hanlan was far and away the best sculler he had ever seen, and that even if Higgins had been fresh and fit, Hanlan would have been too good for him. At that date Hanlan had not made his great reputation, but the soundness of Mr. Labat’s estimate of his powers was fully verified subsequently.

In 1879 Hanlan, having beaten the best American scullers, came to England to row for the ‘Sportsman’ Challenge Cup. He commenced his career in England by beating a second-rate northern sculler, in a sort of trial match; but this was only a feeler before trying conclusions with Elliott. The two met on the Tyne on June 16, and Elliott was simply ‘never in it.’ Hanlan led him, played with him, and beat him as he liked.

It did not require any very deep knowledge of oarsmanship to enable a spectator to observe the vast difference which existed between his style and that of such men as Boyd or Elliott. Hanlan used his slide concurrently with swing, carrying his body well back, with straight arms long past the perpendicular, before he attempted to row the stroke in by bending the arms. His superiority was manifest, and yet our British (professional) scullers seemed wedded to this vicious trick of premature slide and no swing, and doggedly declined to recognise the maxim

Fas est et ab hoste doceri.

At that rate the two best British scullers were, in the writer’s opinion, two amateurs—viz., Mr. Frank Playford, holder of the Wingfield Sculls, and Mr. T. C. Edwardes-Moss, twice winner of the Diamonds at Henley. Either of these gentlemen could have made a terrible example of the best British professionals, could amateur etiquette have admitted a match between the two classes. The only time that these gentlemen met, Mr. Playford proved the winner, over the Wingfield course. A sort of line as to relative merit between amateur and professional talent is gained by recalling Mr. Edwardes-Moss’s victory for the Diamond Sculls in 1878. In that year he met an American, Lee, then self-styled an amateur, but who now openly practises as a professional, and who is quite in the first flight of that class in America. He could probably beat any English professional of to-day, or at least make a close fight with our best man. When the two met at Henley Mr. Edwardes-Moss was by no means in trim to uphold the honour of British sculling. He had gone through three commemoration balls at Oxford about ten days before the regatta. He had only an old sculling boat, somewhat screwed and limp. He had lent her freely to Eton and Windsor friends during the preceding summer, not anticipating that he would need her to race in again; but when the regatta drew nigh he could find no boat to suit him, and had to make shift with the old boat. In the race he had to give Lee the inside, or Berks station; and all who have known Henley Regatta are well aware of the advantage of that side; it gives dead water for some hundreds of yards below Poplar Point, and still further gains on rounding the point. Three lengths would fairly represent the minimum of the handicap between the two stations on a smooth day, such as that of the race. The two scullers raced round the point, Lee leading slightly; but the Oxonian caught him and just headed him on the post. Lee stopped one stroke too soon, whether from exhaustion or error is uncertain, but the performance plainly stamped the English amateur as his superior, half trained and badly boated as he was. Over a champion course, in a match, Lee would in his Henley form have been a score or more lengths behind the Oxonian.

Enough can be guessed from these calculations to show that there would have been a most interesting race, to say the least, if it could have been arranged for a trial of power between Mr. Playford and Hanlan. The latter sculler used to admit, so we always understood, that the London Rowing Club sculler was the only man he had seen whom he did not feel confident of being able to beat.

Hanlan’s style, good though it undoubtedly was, appeared to even greater advantage when seen alongside of the miserable form of our professionals. Hanlan was a well-made man, of middle height, and a thoroughly scientific sculler. He was the best exponent of sliding-seat sculling among professionals, only a long way so; but we, who can recall Kelley and Chambers in their best days, must hold to the opinion that the two latter were, ceteris paribus, as good professors of fixed-seat sculling as ever was Hanlan of the art on a slide. Had sliding seats been in vogue in 1860, and the next half-dozen years, we believe that Kelley and Chambers would have proved themselves capable of doing much the same that Hanlan did in his own generation. We have seen Kelley scull on a sliding seat. He was fat and short of wind, and never attempted to make a study of the leg-work of sliding; but, being simply an amateur at it, his style was a model for all our young school to copy. Like all old fixed-seat oarsmen who have attained merit in the old school, he stuck to his traditional body swing, and added the slide to it, as it were instinctively. There could hardly be a greater contrast of action than to see scullers like Boyd or Blackman kicking backwards and forwards, with piston action and helpless bodies doubled up at the finish, and to observe, paddling within sight of these, old stagers like Biffen and Kelley in a double-sculling boat fitted with slides. It was easy to see that until the new generation of British professionals could be taught first principles of rowing on a fixed seat, there was small chance of their ever acquiring the proper use of the slide as exemplified by Hanlan.

To return to Hanlan’s performances. The Championship of the ‘World’ still rested in Trickett, who had further maintained his title (since he had beaten Sadler), by defeating Rush on the Paramatta, Sydney, on June 30, 1877. Rush had once been the Australian champion; Trickett had beaten him before tackling Sadler, and this was a new attempt by Rush to regain his lost honours. Technically, Trickett could have claimed to defend his title in his own country; but plenty of money was forthcoming to recoup him for expenses of travel, and he assented to meet Hanlan on the Thames for the nominal trophy of the ‘Sportsman’ Challenge Cup, but really for the wider honour of champion of the world. The match came off on November 16, 1880, and Trickett was defeated with even greater ease than Elliott on the Tyne.

Just about this date a sculling regatta, open to the world, was organised on the Thames. It was got up purely for commercial purposes by a company called the ‘Hop Bitters,’ who required to advertise their wares. Nevertheless, it produced good sport. Hanlan did not compete in it. It came off only two days after his match with Trickett. Our British scullers took part in it, and with most humiliating results. Not one of them could gain a place in the final heat, for which four prizes were awarded to the four winners of trial heats. The four winners of the contest were one and all either colonials or Americans, and the winner was one Elias Laycock, also a Sydney man, and undoubtedly a better sculler than Trickett, although the latter was the nominal champion of Australia at the time. Laycock sculled in good style, so far as leg-work and finish of the stroke; his body action was not cramped, but he had not so long a swing as should, if possible, be displayed by a man of his size. He scaled rather above twelve stone. Wallace Ross, who finished second to him, after leading him some distance, had been the favourite, and had been reputed as only a trifle inferior to Hanlan. The forward reach and first part of Ross’s stroke was as good as could be wished, but he had a cramped, tiring, and ugly finish with his arms and shoulders. When Laycock succeeded in beating him a furore was created; Laycock’s staying powers were unmistakable, and many who saw him fancied that his stamina would enable him to give Hanlan trouble before the end of four miles. Laycock himself was not endued with so high an opinion of his own merits; but he was too game a man to shirk a contest when it was proposed to him, and the result was that he was soon matched to scull Hanlan.

The match came off on the following February 14, 1881, over the Thames course. Laycock stuck to his work all the way, but was never in it for speed. Hanlan led from start to finish, and won easily. A year later Hanlan was back in England to row Boyd on the Tyne. Boyd’s friends fondly fancied that he had developed some improvement, but it was a delusion. Never was an oarsman more wedded to vicious style and wanton waste of strength than the pet of the Tyne. The race came off on April 3, 1882, and was, of course, an easy paddle for Hanlan. The knowledge that Hanlan was going to be again on English waters, brought about a return match between him and Trickett. This was rowed on the Thames on May 1 following, and once more the Canadian won easily.No one in Britain thought fit to challenge Hanlan again, after the decisive manner in which he had disposed of all his opponents; but in his own country he twice defended his title, in 1883. On May 31 in that year he rowed J. L. Kennedy, a comparatively new man, in Massachusetts, and beat him; and on the following July 18 he once more met his old opponent, Wallace Ross, on the St. Lawrence, and beat him, though after a closer race than heretofore.

In England about this time sculling had sunk even lower among professionals than in the days when Boyd and Elliott were the professors of the science. These men had retired; there were sundry second and third class competitors for champion honours, among them one Largan, who had been to Australia to scull a match or two, and one Perkins, and one Bubear. The latter at first was inferior to Perkins, and was a man of delicate health and somewhat difficult to train. He often disappointed his backers by going amiss just before a match was due, but he took rather more pains with his style than other British scullers had done of late, and eventually he succeeded in surpassing them, and in becoming the representative (such as it was) of British professional oarsmanship.

We should mention that in 1881 the brothers Messrs. Walter and Harry Chinnery most generously made an expensive attempt to raise the lost standard of British sculling, by giving 1000l. in prizes for a series of years, to be sculled for. These two gentlemen were well-known leading amateur athletes in their day. The elder had been a champion amateur long-distance runner; the younger had won the amateur boxing championship, and had rowed a good oar at Henley regattas and elsewhere. It may be invidious to look a gift horse in the mouth, but we feel that this generous subsidy of the Messrs. Chinnery was practically wasted for want of being fettered with a certain condition. That condition should have been, that the competitions for the Chinnery prizes should be on fixed seats. One reason why professional racing has fallen off of late so much, compared to amateur performances, may be found in the fact that amateurs are taught, and are willing to be taught, from first principles: whereas our professionals nowadays are little better than self-taught. Rowing and sculling require scientific instruction more than ever on slides. In old days the main business of a professional oarsman was to carry passengers in his boat; the calling produced a large following, and out of these some few were good oarsmen and took to boat-racing as well as to mere plying for hire. Here there was a natural nursery for professional racing oarsmen. The disuse of the wherry for locomotion destroyed this nursery; we have already shown that our later professionals are as a rule neither London watermen nor Tyne keelmen. They are a medley lot by trade; a chimney-sweep, a collier, a coal-heaver, a miner, a cabman, &c., all swell the ranks. Such men as these take to the water simply for what they can make out of it, by racing on it. Their one ambition is to race, and to run before they can decently walk. Hence they do not go through the school of fixed-seat rowing before they graduate on sliders, and they have no instructors, nor will they listen to advice.

Amateurs, on the other hand, belong as a rule to clubs; and all clubs of any prestige coach their juniors carefully, and lay down rules for their improvement. Two very usual club rules are, that juniors shall not begin by racing in keelless crank boats, but in steady ‘tub’-built craft. No such control exists over junior professionals; if a bricklayer’s apprentice takes to the water in spare hours, and begins to fancy himself as an oarsman, he will probably find friends who will back him for a small stake against some brother hobbledehoy. Each of these aspirants will thus endeavour to use the speediest boat and appliances that he can obtain. Unfortunately it so happens that sliding seats give so much extra power that even bad sliding À la Boyd produces more pace than good fixed-seat rowing. The result of this is, that, however little a tiro may know of rowing, he will, in a day or two, get more pace on a slide than if he adhered to a fixed seat. So the two cripples race each other on slides, before they have acquired the barest rudiments of swing, and as a natural result they can never be expected hereafter to progress beyond mediocrity.

Now, if there were prizes offered for rising professionals, subject to the condition that sliding seats should not be used, these tiros would have some chance of being induced to study the art of using the body for swing, and of mastering this all-important feature in oarsmanship, before they ventured to fly so high as to race upon slides.

Twenty and more years ago there was a class of match-making on the Thames which is now obsolete. This was to row in what were called ‘old-fashioned’ wager boats, i.e. the lightest form of wherry which used to be built before H. Clasper established outriggers. The keelless boat requires a sharp catch up at the beginning to get the best pace out of it, and it also requires more ‘sitting’ to keep it on an even keel. (If it is not on an even keel, the hands do not grip the water evenly, and power thereby is wasted.) It was because this fact used to be realised in those days better than now, that so many rough scullers were matched in ‘old-fashioned’ boats, rather than in ‘best and best’ boats, as the fastest built craft were usually styled in the articles of matches. It would do good if this quondam practice of matching duffers on even terms in steady old-fashioned craft could be re-introduced on the Thames.

Another incident has tended greatly to the deterioration of professional rowing, and this is the lapse of professional regattas. Certain gentlemen connected with the University and the leading Thames boat clubs used formerly to get up an annual summer regatta for the benefit of professional oarsmen. In the ‘forties’ a somewhat similar regatta had also existed for a time, but it had consisted of amateur competitions as well as of professional. This earlier regatta faded away when its chief trophy, the ‘Gold Cup’ for amateur eight oars, was won thrice in succession by, and became the property of, the ‘Thames Club.’ (That Thames Club is now extinct, and must not be confounded with the well-known ‘Thames Rowing Club’ of the present day.) Some of the members of the Thames crew that won this ‘Gold Cup’ in the forties are still to be found, the most notable of them being Messrs. Frank Playford, senr. (amateur champion in 1849); and Rhodes Cobb, the president of the Kingston Rowing Club. (The sons of each of these old athletes have similarly made their mark in aquatics of the present generation.) Owing to the action of the chairman of a steamboat company and other gentlemen who had other interests than those of boating to serve, these regattas have lapsed.

To resume—as to Thames regattas. The Thames Subscription Club, between 1861 and 1866, got up a Thames regatta, which annually produced fine sport between Thames and Tyne men, and once or twice good Glasgow crews joined in the competition. In 1866 the amateur element was introduced as a mixture. This was the last year of the series.

Meantime the late Mr. H. H. Playford had for three years laboured to form a sort of ‘nursery’ regatta for professionals. It was styled the ‘Sons of the Thames’ regatta, and it had the effect of bringing out several good men, such as the Biffens, Wise, Tagg, &c., who afterwards distinguished themselves in the greater regattas on the Thames, which were open to the world. Never was professional rowing at higher flood than just at this date, thanks to the gentleman referred to.In 1867 there was no regatta; but in 1868 a new series was founded. The late Messrs. J. G. Chambers, George Morrison, Allan Morrison, Rev. R. W. Risley, the Playfords, Brickwood and other prominent amateurs, gave money and labour to aid the scheme, and it flourished right well for nine seasons. It produced, like the preceding series, fine rowing, and many a subsequent sculling or four-oar match arose out of the regatta contests. So far these regattas had been promoted solely for sport, and in pure unselfishness. In 1876 a steamboat company originated the idea of a Thames regatta, and advertised a scheme. Subscriptions were obtained from several of the City sources which had formerly subscribed to bon fide Thames regatta, and thus the funds of the old-established meeting were sapped. The latter came off all the same that year, there thus being two Thames regattas for one season. But there were not funds to carry on two such meetings, and the amateur promoters of the old established regatta retired next year in favour of the speculative promoters. The speculative regatta lived just one year more, and then its promoters gave up, and left our British professionals with no regatta at all to encourage them.

And this was just at a time when our champion honours had been wrested from us, and when we needed more than ever some disinterested assistance, in order to revive and encourage the falling fortunes of professional oarsmanship! It was too late to revive the old regatta; the hand of Death was busy among the old amateurs who had founded the second series, and the four or five gentlemen whose names headed the list of promoters (supra) have passed rapidly away, from one cause or another, in the prime of life. Whether hereafter any combination of later amateurs will once more come to the rescue, as did the late Messrs. Chambers, H. Playford, the Morrisons, and Risley, remains to be seen. If they do so, we hope they will found something, at first, more on the lines of the Playford series of ‘Sons of the Thames’ regatta, to bring out new blood; and that they will insist upon no slides being used in any race of the meeting, for at least two seasons. Slides are not allowed in the public schools fours (lately rowed for at Henley, and now competed for at Marlow), nor in Oxford torpids, nor in Cambridge lower division races. Nor do the leading amateur tideway clubs allow their juniors to race on them in club matches. If we are to educate a new generation of professional talent, we must do so on the same general principle that we teach our junior amateurs in rowing clubs.

Since the date of Hanlan’s invasion of Britain, British scullers have not been in the hunt for champion competitions. Such champion racing as has taken place has been confined to Canadians, Americans, or Australians. In 1884, May 22, Laycock was once more brought out to row Hanlan on the Nepean river, New South Wales, and Hanlan again held his own. Meantime an emigrant (in childhood) from Chertsey, one William Beach, had been rapidly improving his style in New South Wales. He took hints from his conquerors until, when he was about forty, a time when most scullers are past their prime, he could beat all comers in his own colony. Hanlan was persuaded to visit Australia to row him, and the first match between them came off August 16, 1884, on the Paramatta. To the surprise of all, Beach went as fast as Hanlan, and outstayed him. Excuses were made for this reverse to one who had been reckoned invincible: Hanlan had been unfairly washed by a steamer, and some fancied he had held Beach too cheap, and was not fully trained. Another match was made for March 28, 1885. Meantime Beach easily beat, on February 28 of that year, another colonial challenger, T. Clifford. In his return match with Hanlan he fairly tired the Canadian out. Beach scales a trifle over twelve stone, and proves the truth of the old saying that a good big one is better than a good little one.

In December of 1885 Hanlan beat Neil Matterson, a young and rising Australian candidate for the championship.

In the summer of 1886, a large amount was subscribed for a series of sculling prizes on the Thames. Beach was in England, training for a match against Gaudaur of St. Louis, U.S., who had lately beaten the best American scullers. Gaudaur did not row in this regatta of scullers, but Beach did.

The trial heats of this regatta were rowed in stretches of about three miles each, following the tide over different parts of the tideway. In the first heat Neil Matterson beat Ross. In the second, Teemer, U.S., beat Perkins, a London sculler. Bubear rowed over for the third heat, and the fourth was won by Beach beating Lee, U.S. (once a pseudo amateur and an unsuccessful competitor for the Diamond Sculls of Henley!) Next day Beach beat Bubear, and Teemer beat Matterson. The final heat took place over the regulation course of Putney to Mortlake. Beach won as he liked, on a tide that was not first class, in 22 min. 16 secs. The racing occupied August 31, and September 1 and 2.On September 18, Beach met Gaudaur for the championship over the Putney course. Beach was, as the race showed, a little ‘off;’ apparently he had been indulging; for to look at Gaudaur few would have expected him to make such a close fit of the race as he did. The stakes were 500l. a side. The tide was a good one, and the water was smooth beyond Hammersmith. Beach led, and seemed to have the race safe off Chiswick. Then he began to lose ground, Gaudaur came up to him, and Beach stopped, apparently rowed out. Possibly he had ‘stitch,’ as the sequel shows. Gaudaur got just in front of Beach, and could not get away. Beach stopped again, and still Gaudaur could do little better than paddle. Half way up Horse Reach Beach seemed to recover, and once more came up with his man. He led by a few feet at Barnes Bridge, and after that drew steadily away, winning by three lengths in the exceptionally good time of 22 min. 30 secs. or 22 min. 29 secs.

A week later Beach did a much finer performance, for time. He rowed Wallace Ross for the championship, over the usual course, and beat him in a common paddle, without being extended, and with wind foul, on a neap tide, in 23 min. 5 secs. The pace of this tide, let alone foul wind, must have been about a minute to a minute and a quarter (if not more) slower than the tide on which Beach and Gaudaur had sculled some days before. Those who know the effect of tides on pace, will admit that this last performance, all things considered, is Beach’s best, and is also the best ever accomplished by any sculler over the Thames tideway course. Had Beach been on a spring tide that day, and been doing his best, he would probably have done a good deal faster than 21 min. 30 secs. over our champion course. All factors considered, we believe that the present champion sculler is the fastest that the world has yet produced, better than even Hanlan at his best. To compare him with the best old fixed-seat champions would be invidious to all parties. Each in his day made the best of the mechanical appliances at his disposal, and was A1 in style for their use.


Too close together

A FOUL.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Clyx.com


Top of Page
Top of Page