In b.u.mping races, if a college has no immediate fear of foes from the rear, it is well not to bring men too fine to the post; else, though they may do well enough for the first day or two, they may work stale or lose power before the end of the six days of the contest. It is better that a crew should row itself into condition than out of it. In training for long-distance racing, it is customary to make about every alternate day a light one, of about the same work as for college racing. The other days are long-course days of long grinds, to get men together, and to reduce weight. When men have settled to a light boat, and have begun to row courses against time, and especially when they reach Putney water, two long courses in each week are about enough. Many crews do not do even so much as this. As a rule a crew are better for not being taken for more than ten or eleven minutes of hard, uninterrupted racing, within three days of the race. A long course wastes much tissue, and it takes a day or two to feed up what they have wasted. Nevertheless, crews have been known to do long courses within 48 hours of a Putney match, and to win withal: e.g. the Oxonians of 1883, who came racing pace from Barnes to Putney two days before the race, and 'beat record' over that stretch of water.

[Ill.u.s.tration: b.u.mPING RACE--WAITING FOR THE GUN.]

Strokes and coaches do a crew much harm if they are jealous of 'times'

prematurely in practice. Suppose an opponent does a fast time, there is no need to go to the starting point and endeavour to eclipse time.

Possibly his rapid time has been accomplished by dint of a prematurely rapid stroke, while the pace of our own boat, with regard to the rate of stroke employed, discloses promise of better pace than our opponents, when racing shall arrive in real earnest. Now if we, for jealousy, take our own men at a gallop before they are ripe for it, we run great risk of injuring their style, and of throwing them back instead of improving them. After the day's race, the body should be well washed in tepid water, and rubbed dry with rough towels. It is a good thing for an oarsman to keep a toothbrush in his dressing-room. He will find it a great relief against thirst to wash his mouth out with it when dressing, more especially so if he also uses a little tincture of myrrh.

One 'odd man' is of great service to training, even if he cannot spare time to row in the actual race. Many a man in a crew is the better for a day's, or half a day's, rest now and then. Yet his gain is loss of practice to the rest, unless a stop-gap can be found to keep the machinery going. The berth of ninth man in a University eight often leads to promotion to the full colours in a following season, as U.B.C.

records can show.

With college eights there used to be a _furore_, some twenty years ago, for taking them over the long course in a gig eight. These martyrs, half fit, were made to row the regulation long course, from 'first gate' to lasher, or at least to Nuneham railway bridge, at a hard and without an easy. The idea was to 'shake them together.' The latter desideratum could have been attained just as well by taking them to the lasher and back again, but allowing them to be eased once in each mile or so. Many crews that adopted the process met with undoubted success, but we fancy that their success would have been greater had their long row been judiciously broken by rest every five minutes. To behold a half-trained college eight labouring past Nuneham, at the end of some fifteen minutes of toil, jealous to beat the time of some rival crew, used to be a pitiable sight. More crews were marred than made by this fanaticism.

On the morning of a race it is a good thing to send a crew to run sprints of seventy or eighty yards, twice. This clears the wind greatly for the rest of the day, without taking any appreciable strength out of the man. A crew thus 'aired' do not so much feel the severity of a sharp start in the subsequent race, and they gain their second wind much sooner.

The meal before a race should be a light one, comparatively: something that can be digested very easily. Mutton is digested sooner than beef.

H. Kelley used to swear by a wing of boiled chicken (without sauce) before a race. The fluid should be kept as low as possible just before a race; and there should be about three hours between the last meal and the start. A preliminary canter in the boat is advisable; it tests all oars and stretchers, and warms up the muscles. Even when men are rowing a second or third race in the day, they should not be chary of extending themselves for a few strokes on the way to the post. Muscles stiffen after a second race, and are all the better for being warmed up a trifle before they are again placed on the rack.

Between races a little food may be taken, even if there is only an hour to spare: biscuit soaked in port wine stays the stomach; and if there is more than an hour cold mutton and stale bread (no b.u.t.ter), to the extent of a couple of sandwiches or more (according to time for digestion), will be of service. Such a meal may be washed down with a little cold tea and brandy. The tea deadens the pain of stiffened muscles; the brandy helps to keep the pulse up. If young hands are fidgetty and nervous, a little brandy and water may be given them; or brandy and tea, not exceeding a wine-gla.s.s, rather more tea than brandy. The writer used often to pick up his crew thus, and was sometimes laughed at for it in old days. He is relieved to find no less an authority than Mr. E. D.

Brickwood, on page 219 of 'Boat-racing,' holding the same view as himself, and commending the same system of 'pick-me-up.'

AILMENTS.

A rowing man seems somehow to be heir to nearly as many ailments as a racehorse. Except that he does not turn 'roarer,' and that there is no such hereditary taint in rowing clubs, he may almost be likened to a Derby favourite.

_Boils_ are one of the most common afflictions. They used to be seen more frequently in the writer's days than now. The modern recognition of the importance of a due proportion of vegetable food blended with the animal food has tended to reduce the proportion of oarsmen annually laid up by this complaint. A man is not carnivorous purely, but omnivorous, like a pig or a bear. If he gorges too much animal food meat, he disorders his blood, and his blood seeks to throw off its humours. If there is a sore anywhere on the frame at the time, the blood will select this as a safety valve, and will raise a fester there. If there is no such existing safety valve, the blood soon broaches a volcano of its own, and has an unpleasant habit of selecting most inconvenient sites for these eruptions. Where there is most wear and tear going on to the cuticle is a likely spot for the volcano to open, and nature in this respect is p.r.o.ne to favour the seat of honour more than any other portions of the frame. Next in fashion, perhaps, comes the neck; the friction of a comforter when the neck is dripping with perspiration tends often to make the skin of the neck tender and to induce a boil to break out there. A blistered hand is not unlikely to be selected as the scene of outbreak, or a shoulder chafed by a wet jersey.

A crew should be under strict orders to report _all_ ailments, if only a blister, _instantly_ to the coach. It is better to leave _no_ discretion in this matter to the oarsman, even at the risk of troubling the mentor with trifles. If a man is once allowed to decide for himself whether he will report some petty and incipient ailment, he is likely to try to hush it up lest it should militate against his coach's selection of him; the effect of this is that mischief which might otherwise have been checked in the bud, is allowed to a.s.sume dangerous proportions for want of a st.i.tch in time. An oarsman should be impressed that nothing is more likely to militate against his dream of being selected than disobedience to this or any other standing order. The smallest pimple should be shown forthwith to the coach, the slightest hoa.r.s.eness or tendency to snuffle reported; any tenderness of joint or sinew instantly made known.

To return to boils. If a boil is observed in the pimple stage, it may be scotched and killed. Painting it with iodine will drive it away, in the writer's experience. 'Stonehenge' advises a wash of nitrate of silver, of fifteen to twenty grains to the ounce, to be painted over the spot.

Mr. Brickwood also, while quoting 'Stonehenge' on this point, recommends bathing with bay salt and water.

Anyhow, these external means of repression do not of themselves suffice.

They only bung up the volcano; the best step is to cure the blood, otherwise it will break out somewhere else. The writer's favourite remedy is a dose of syrup of iodide of iron; one teaspoonful in a winegla.s.s of water, just before or after a meal, is about the best thing. A second dose of half the amount may be taken twenty-four hours later. This medicine is rather constipating; a slight aperient, if only a dose of Carlsbad salts before breakfast or a seidlitz powder, may be taken to counteract it in this respect. It is a strong but prompt remedy; anything is better than to have a member of a crew eventually unable to sit down for a week or so! An extra gla.s.s of port after dinner, _and plenty of green food_, will help to rectify the disordered blood.

Another good internal remedy is brewer's yeast, a tablespoonful twice a day after meals. Watermen swear by this, and Mr. Brickwood personally recommends it.

If care is taken a boil can be thus nipped in the bud (figuratively); to do this _literally_ is the very worst thing. Some people pinch off the head of a small boil. This only adds fuel to the fire. If a boil has become large, red, and angry before any remedies are applied, it is too late to drive it in, and the next best thing is to coax it out. This is done with strong linseed poultices. A doctor should be called in, and be persuaded to lance it, to the core, and to squeeze it, so soon as he judges it to be well filled with pus.

_Raws_ used to be more common twenty-five years ago than now: boat cushions had much to do with them. Few oarsmen in these days use cushions. Raws are best anointed with a mixture of oxide of zinc, spermaceti and glycerine, which any chemist can make up, to the consistency of cold cream. It should be b.u.t.tered on thickly, especially at bed-time.

_Blisters_ should be p.r.i.c.ked with a needle (_never_ with _pin_); the water should be squeezed out, and the old skin left on to shield the young skin below.

Festers are only another version of boils. The internal remedies, to rectify the blood, should be the same as for boils. Cuts or wounds of broken skin may be treated like raws if slight; if deeper, then wrapped in lint, soaked in cold water, and bound with oilskin to keep the lint moist.

_Abdominal strains_ sometimes occur (i.e. of the abdominal muscles of recovery) if a man does a hard day's work before he is fairly fit. A day's rest is the best thing; an hour's sitting in a hot hip bath, replenishing the heat as the water cools, gives much relief. The strain works off while the oarsman is warm to his work, but recurs with extra pain when he starts cold for the next row. If there is any suspicion of hernia (or 'rupture') work should instantly stop, even ten miles from home; the patient should row no more, walk gently to a resting-place, and send for a doctor. Once only has the writer known of real hernia in a day's row, and then the results were painfully serious. Inspection of the abdomen will show if there is any hernia.

_Diarrh[oe]a_ is a common complaint. It is best to call in a doctor if the attack does not pa.s.s off in half a day. If a man has to go to the post while thus affected, it is a good thing to give him some _raw_ arrowroot (three or four table-spoonfuls) in _cold_ water. The dose should be well stirred, to make the arrowroot swill down the throat. To put the arrowroot into hot water spoils the effect which is desired.

Many doctors have a tender horror of consenting to any patient rowing, even for a day, so long as he is under their care, though only for a boil which does not affect his action.

Professional instinct prompts them to feel that the speediest possible cure is the chief desideratum, and of course that object is best attained by lying on the shelf. A doctor who will consent to do his best to cure, subject to a.s.senting to his patient's continuing at work so long as actual danger is not thereby incurred, and so long as disablement for the more important race day is not risked, is sometimes, but too rarely, found.

_Sprains_, _colds_, _coughs_, &c., had better be submitted at once to a doctor. A cold on the chest may become much more serious than it appears at first, and should never be trifled with. Slightly sprained wrists weaken, but need not necessarily cripple a man. Mr. W. h.o.a.re, stroke of Oxford boat in 1862, had a sprained wrist at Putney, and rowed half the race with only one hand, as also much of the practice. He was none the worse after Easter, when the tendons had rested and recuperated.

Oarsmen should be careful to wrap up warmly the instant that they cease work. Many a cold has been caught by men sitting in their jerseys--cold wind suddenly checking perspiration after a sharp row--while some chatter is going on about the time which the trial has taken, or why No.

So-and-so caught a small crab halfway. A woollen comforter should always be at hand to wrap promptly round the neck and over the chest when exertion ceases, and so soon as men land they should clothe up in warm flannel, until the time comes to strip and work.

Siestas should not be allowed. There is a temptation to doze on a full stomach after a hard day, or even when fresh after a midday meal. No one should be allowed to give way to this; it only makes men 'slack,' and spoils digestion.

If a man can keep his bedclothes on all night, and keep warm, he will do himself good if he sleeps with an open window, winter or summer. He thereby gets more fresh air, and accordingly has not to tax the respiratory muscles so much, in order to inhale the necessary amount of oxygen. Eight hours sleep with open windows refresh the frame more than nine hours and upwards in a stuffy bedroom. A roaring fire may obviate an open window, for it forces a constant current of air through the apartment. The writer has slept with windows wide open, winter and summer, since he first matriculated at his University, save once or twice for a night or two when suffering from cold (not contracted by having slept with open windows). If a bed is well tucked up, and the frame well covered, the chest cannot be chilled, and the mouth and nose are none the worse for inhaling cool fresh air, even below freezing-point. This refers to men of sound chests. Men of weak const.i.tution have no business to train or to race.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FOUR-OAR.]

CHAPTER XIII.

ROWING CLUBS.

The formation of a 'club' for the pursuit of any branch of sport gives a local stimulus at once to the game, and lends facilities for the acquisition of merit in the performance. This is peculiarly the case with rowing, and for more than one reason. Theoretically a man might, by unaided scientific study, elaborate for himself the most improved system or principle of oarsmanship. Practically he will do nothing of the sort, and if left to teach himself will develop all sorts of faults of style, which tend to the outlay of a maximum of exertion for a minimum of progress. The tiro in oarsmanship requires instruction from the outset; the sooner he is taught, the more likely is he to become proficient. If he begins to teach himself, he will certainly acquire faulty action, which will settle to habit. If later on he has recourse to a mentor, the labours of both pupil and tutor will be more arduous than if the pupil were a complete beginner; the pupil will require first to be _un_taught from his bad style before he is adapted for instruction in good action of limbs and body.

Moreover, all rowing becomes so mechanical that the polished oarsman is almost as unconscious of merit in his style (save from what others may tell him of himself) as the duffer is of his various inelegancies. The very best oarsman is liable insidiously to develop faults in his own style which he himself, or a less scientific performer, would readily notice in another person.

Hence, where men row together in a club, each can be of service to the other, in pointing out faults, of which the performer is unconscious. So that half-a-dozen oarsmen or scullers of equal cla.s.s, if they will thus mutually a.s.sist each other, can attain between them a higher standard than if each had rowed like a hermit. Still more is the standard of oarsmanship raised among juniors when the older hands of a club take them in charge and coach them.

In addition to this system of reciprocal education, a club fosters rivalry, and organises club races; and, in like manner, a plurality of clubs stimulates compet.i.tion between clubs, and produces open racing between members of the rival inst.i.tutions.

College clubs seem to be the oldest on record. Some of them go back as early as the concluding years of George the Third. The rise of British oarsmanship has been traced in a preceding chapter. The oldest 'open'

rowing club is the 'Leander.' When it originated seems to be uncertain, but it was considered relatively to be an 'old' club in 1837.

Mr. G. D. Rowe, Hon. Secretary of the Club, has kindly extracted the following memoranda from the Club's history of its records:--

It would seem that the earliest known metropolitan rowing clubs were 'The Star' and 'The Arrow,' which existed at the end of the last century, and expired somewhere about 1820. Out of the ruins sprang the Leander Club, which is still a flourishing inst.i.tution, and which includes amongst its members most of the great University oarsmen of the last thirty years or so. So far as can be ascertained, the Leander Club did not exist in 1820, but it was in full swing in 1825, and in 1830 was looked upon as a well-known and long-established boat club.

In 1837, 1838, and 1841 Leander rowed races against Cambridge, losing the first and winning the last, whilst in 1838 the race was declared a draw owing to fouling.

In all three the course was from Westminster to Putney.

In 1839 Leander was beaten for the Grand Challenge Cup at Henley by the Oxford Etonians; but in 1840 the Leander crew won the Cup, whilst in 1841 they came in first, but were disqualified on a foul. In consequence of this Leander did not again compete for the G.C.C. till 1858,[12] as the Club considered the ruling of the Umpire unfair.

[12] The Leander entry at Henley, 1858, arose thus. A mixed team of old Blues of _both_ colours got up an eight, and qualified by rowing under the Leander flag.

Meanwhile, however, in 1843, -4, and -5 Leander won the Challenge Cup at the Thames Regatta, and between 1845 and 1855 Leander won the Presentation Cup at Erith for Four-oars, several times.

Leander, however, was as much a social a.s.sociation as a competing rowing club. Up till 1856 the number of members was limited to twenty-five men, who used to meet at Westminster once or twice a week, and row to Putney or Greenwich, and take dinner together. Sometimes they would go to the Albert Docks, and dine on board a ship, at the expense of one of their members, who was a large shipowner.