In the Oxford Reach the mean river flow is about 20 m3/sec,
the low flow (exceeded 95% of the time) is about 2 m3/sec,
and the high flow (exceeded 10% of the time) is about 50 m3/sec.
The Cherwell contributes about 20% of the mean flow at Iffley
| ROWING SAFETY FLAGS | |
|---|---|
Godstow Flag Status Hover over graphic for details = No restrictions. = Senior crews only. = No crews allowed.
= Flag not maintained. | |
Isis Flag Status = No restrictions. = No novice coxes ... = Senior crews only ... = No crews allowed. = Flag not maintained. | |
| Not found |
Reading Rowing Club safety flag |
| Not found |
Henley: Upper Thames Rowing Club |
|
|
Maidenhead Rowing Club Safety Flag Amber >= 65 m3/sec; Red/Amber >= 100 m3/sec; Red >= 120 m3/sec |
| Not found |
Marlow Rowing club use a sophisticated system - a webcam on a manual system of safety lights: left = RED, middle = AMBER, right = GREEN |
| Not found |
Cambridge University Combined Boat Clubs safety flag = [No restrictions] hover over graphic for detail = [Senior crews only] = [closed with exceptions] = The river is closed to all crews = [The flag is not operational]
|
Oxford University Rowing Clubs click any link on map or links
The Oxford Rowing Reach, Reproduced by kind permission.
Leave me a message if a link doesn't work, click Messages, top right!
1910: This section in
Thames Valley Villages by Charles G Harper
TORPIDS (Bumping Races) early March
SUMMER EIGHTS: (Bumping Races) Tue 31 May 2011 - Fri 3 Jun 2011
Maps
Isis 1811 in OXFORD ROWING, Sherwood, 1900
a picture of the river from the towing-path opposite where the barges now stand. The foreground is shortened to enable the artist to throw up the buildings of Christ Church, but it is with the river itself that we are interested. It will be seen that there are no barges, no boats, even, in sight, except the primitive one to the right, no wall on the meadow side, and of course no railings. Such boats as there were, were kept at Folly Bridge, at the Boat House Tavern near the lock.
1815: It is generally reckoned that the first bumping races started.
1816 -
The environs of Oxford are very pleasing and picturesque, especially when viewed from the Isis, down which river conveyances may at all times be procured in small and neatly painted boats as far as Iffley Paper-Mills. This is a pleasure in which the students are fond of indulging.
1817: Hall's Boathouse Tavern - showing an eight - from "OXFORD ROWING, A History of Boat-Racing at Oxford from the Earliest Times", by W E Sherwood, 1900 -
1817: Hall's Boathouse Tavern - showing an eight.
1819:
Invention of the rowlock by Wallop Brabazon.
The swivel rowlock was then invented in 1875 by Michael Davis
- and, such is the lightning speed of change in the rowing world, the last time
the Grand at Henley was won with fixed pin rowlocks was in 1949
The Rowlock by Wallop Brabazon
The Oxford Bumps
This drawing by Serres was photographed by Taunt and is described as by Dominic Serres, the elder. (1722-93). I think it is probably by his son John Thomas Serres. His dates were 1759-1825. And in fact that same picture is in Sherwood's 'Oxford Rowing' dated as 1822
Bumping Race at Oxford, (John Thomas?) Serres, (1822)
This next, very similar picture is signed J T Serres and dated 1821. It shows a third eight close behind the other two making it almost certain we are looking at a bumping race
Bumping Race at Oxford, signed by John Thomas Serres, 1821
College Barges
In 1821 the barges with sails up on the far bank are presumably travelling
through and have been asked to make way for the race. Notice the primitive state of
the moored barges - which have not yet reached their final glory at this date - indeed they may
not strictly be college barges - but belong to boatmen.
The barge with the windows rather like a railway carriage was owned by the boatbuilder Isaac King,
and was known as King's Barge. It served as the finishing post for bumping races
and it became the custom to indicate the results of each day's racing by the order of flags
raised on the barge flagpole - they can be seen above.
It became used as changing rooms by the oarsmen and this led
to the wish of every college to have its own barge.
Then in 1831 the new London Bridge opened. The old bridge which dated from medieval times was such
a barrier to the flow of the tide that it caused a considerable drop and was clearly acting as a weir.
Above bridge the tides were much reduced by this effect. But the new bridge enabled a much freer flow
and the tides above bridge therefore increased. The traditional old barges (the Lord Mayor's,
and those of the various Guilds) were rowed, and the increasing stream was difficult for the ponderous craft.
At the same time steam was coming in and causing wash problems and making the old barges look rather slow.
There was therefore a ready market in such barges - of which Oxford probably took advantage.
John and Stephen Salter took over King's barge in 1852 for their own boatbuilding business,
before eventually acquiring the Boat House Tavern at Folly Bridge.
1885: The Royal River -
The great deed of the new undergraduates
was the discovery of the river.
In the early years of the (19th) century it was still only a place for
fishing in;
occasionally a heavy tub was rowed down to Nuneham.
Bell-ringing had gone out as an exercise;
cricket was the game of one exclusive club.
The nearest approach to a healthy rivalry between colleges was a
competition between New College and All Souls’ in
making negus.
[ A drink made from 2 parts Port, 1 part Claret, 1 part Burgundy,
1 part Brandy, 2 parts water, Lemon slices, nutmeg, 1 teaspoon Sugar. Served hot. ]
New College won by putting in no water ...
It was not till 1837 that the old boats had their sides cut down.
About ten years later outriggers came in,
and after another ten, keel-less boats.
Another ten brought sliding seats from America,
And so the skiff and the four and the eight reached their perfect economy of
construction, and the quality of beauty they share with their counterpart, the
bicycle, on land. Both bicycle and skiff
are extensions of the human machine within such limits that they remain as it
were mere developed limbs working at every moment as parts of one balancing
frame, projections of the person.
In 1839 the University Boat Club was
started, and the great Oxford school of rowing
shot up to overshadow the older faculties.
Before this time college racing had begun
on the admirable bumping system, that not only makes
the race a prolonged spectacle for those who stand still to see, but allows of
so much spirit of body in those who run by their college boat.
At first the boats started out of Iffley Lock. The stroke of each boat, as its
turn came, ran down the thwarts pushing out, and the next boat followed as soon
as he cleared the lock.
Now there's a quotation to try out on an Oxford Academic -
" - the great Oxford school of rowing shot up to overshadow the older faculties - "
1820s: Sherwood, in "Oxford Rowing, 1900, quotes Gresley in 'Portrait of an English Churchman'
describing the start of the races -
Gresley, who took his degree in 1823, and had himself
rowed in the Westminster boat before coming to Oxford,
in his 'Portrait of an English Churchman' thus describes the
start of the races.
His hero and his friend had taken refuge in
Iffley Churchyard, to which they had crossed that they might
avoid the groups which were assembling to witness the boatrace.
Here the well-known sound of oars arrested their attention, not
The splash so clear and chill
Of yon old fisher's solitary oar
which is described by the poets, but that quick, regular,
business-like stroke, which is caused by the rapid turning of many
oars at the same moment of time.
Presently a gallant eight-oar appeared in the bend of the river, and then another boat
succeeded, and another. They entered the lock together, and
for a short time all was hushed in silence.
Soon the creaking of the opening gate was heard, and the boats sprang forth one
by one ; the sky was rent by the mingled shouts of the friends
of each party, as they followed them along the bank, cheering
them on in the race, until as they approached towards Oxford
the sound died upon the breeze.
Sherwood in Oxford Rowing, 1900, writes -
It was the custom with these early eights to row down to
Sandford, and then return together to Iffley Lock. The boats
were large ones, with a gang-plank running across the seats
down the middle of the boat.
When the lock gates opened, the stroke of the head boat, who was standing in the bows with
a boat-hook, ran down the boat, either along the plank or along
the side, and pushed her out of the lock as quickly as possible,
immediately taking his seat and rowing. The first boat was
followed as quickly as possible by the second, and that by the
third, and thus the race was started.
Which makes sense of the next picture, which shows exactly that.
Oxford Bumps start before 1825
[ Notice in the above print the oars held vertically so that the boat (without riggers) has its hull
actually touching the lock wall. Seven oarsmen are on their seats but stroke is between three and four
striding down the boat pushing the boat along with his shoulder against the lock gate.
Where is stroke's oar? I can't see it in the above print.
It could just be laid over towards the stern beside cox?
W B Woodgate in 'Boating',
1888, wrote -
The eight oars seem to have been in the habit of going down to Sandford or Nuneham to dine, and of rowing home in company.
From Iffley to Oxford they were inclined to race to see who could be home first.
They could not race abreast so they rowed in Indian file,
and those behind jealously tried to overtake the leaders.
Hence began the idea of starting in a fixed order out of Iffley Lock,
of racing in procession, and of an overtaken boat giving place to its victor
on the next night of procession.
...
This [1824] was the last year in which the boats started out of Iffley Lock.
The racing has hitherto been conducted on this principle;
the start between the boats were just so much as the dexterity of the stroke could obtain.
He, the stroke, stood on the bow thwart, and ran down the row of thwarts;
pushing the boat along with his shoulder against the lock gates, he reached his own thwart,
by which time the impetus had shot the boat clear of the lock, he dropped onto his own seat,
and began to row.
The oarsmen had their oars 'tossed' meantime.
The boat next in order then followed the same process, and so on.
The boats lay in échelon while waiting for the start.
I have not seen it mentioned - but there was a weir on the towpath side above Iffley Lock in those days and a bad start might have had worse consequences than a bump -
1824, Mar 18:
Drowned, J. Harvey, esq. a Commoner of Wadham College.
As he was rowing in a skiff between Ifley and Oxford, near the Wiers,
it is supposed he stood up in the boat, to take off his jacket;
when the oar slipping from his hand, in endeavouring to recover it, he fell into the stream.
Mr. Taylor, of Brazennose, dived several times in vain, and the body was not found for two hours.
1826: The Boat Race - An Oxford Scene, from the Literary Lounger. [The starting method has by now moved on slightly from the above description - the boats move out from the lock and then a starting pistol is fired. ] -
SCENE I. — The Lock at Iffley, and the Banks of the Isis up to Oxford.
Crowds of Gownsmen. — "Hines [lock-keeper], open the lock".
"They come!"
(Vast deal of cheering.
Exeter, Christ Church, Black Exeter, and Worcester are the four boats for the race.
Skiffs ; two, four, and six oared cutters in all parts of the river.
The togati, on the banks, preparing for the run.
Eyes anxiously looking for the start;
a beautiful evening between eight and nine;
bustle and life the predominant feature.)
Hines. — "Gentlemen, all ready. Please to want any thing."
Cockswain. — "Grease, and plenty of it."
(The oars being anointed, the boats float out of the lock.
Exeter having the start, then Christ Church, Black Exeter, and Worcester.)
A gownsman on shore — "Are you all right."
"Yes, fire away," from the boat crews.
(A pistol goes off, and the boats at the same time.
Gownsmen hurrying along the banks.)
Cries of "bravo, bravo, go it Christ Church ; you are gaining ground". (Strange phrase at a boat race.)
"Pull, Exeter ; stronger yet ; they gain ; she is almost upon you."
"Huzza! Christ Church, beautifully pulled."
Here a gentleman tumbles in the water, exclaiming, " Holloa! look here."
("Yes, Sir, you seem to be very much in for it.")
(Many knocked up, others dropping the chase, and all puffed.)
"Huzza, huzza, Christ Church for ever."
"Go it, Exeter ; no use ; she beats;"
"bravo! Christ Church bumps her. Huzza!"
(loud cries of exultation for Christ Church.)
Exeter looks exceeding glum and exclaims, " What a sell!"
(Christ Church receives the congratulations of her well-wishers, and then they row direct for Oxford.
The river now exhibits a truly splendid appearance.
All the smaller boats, tugging to arrive with first intelligence, rowed by some of the finest
young men in Europe.
The St. John's four oar appears ; abuse follows ;
"Shame bow; sluggish bow; yah! muffs!" and such like epithets
are applied to the attempts, while the regular good ones are hailed with cries loud and lasting.
The method soon came to be starting from measured stations along the bank, the cox holding the end of a chain fixed to the bank which defined each boat’s starting position. Competitive coxes soon realised that by careful timing and hanging back until the last moment it was possible to have some way on the boat at the instant of starting. Also there is a trade off between distance from the bank and distance to the next boat. The closer you are willing to come to the bank the closer you can get to the next boat. Both factors could cause instant disaster by the smallest error. In Tom Brown at Oxford there is an account of a bumps start which was very nearly a disaster probably caused by these factors (and a side wind). Eton College did develop a fairer starting method by laying a chain on the bottom and having floating bungs held to the chain by a thin wire. ]
Bumps Start, 1892
Well, somehow I think somebody has missed the point! The bumps are supposed to be competitive - bump or be bumped. So why throw away the advantage that being closer to your target could give - why be just out at a right angle from the anchor point on the bank? I think that was the artist's impression - no oarsman or cox or boatman would have done it like that!
Bumps Start, 2007
This is more like it, with the boat as far upstream from the anchor point as they dare, though they will need to move the stern out a little before the gun.
The bullring, set in the wall of the
right bank, marks the start of the modern Oxford Bumping Races.
Unfortunately the bull has lost his ring.
1824 The London Literary Gazette -
Theological Profundity.
Every body knows that rowing is a favourite amusement at Oxford ;
and that the different boats, some with eight oars, Some with six, some with four,
are called by the names of the Colleges to which they respectively belong;
as, The Christ-Church, The Brazenose, The Magdalen, &c.
Towards the close of last term, a young stndent, undergoing a public examination in Divinity,
manifested the grossest ignorance on the subject.
At length the Examinant, a good-natured man, and a friend of the student's,
and of course anxious to save him from the disgrace of being plucked,
resolved to put a question in the answer to which no blunder could possibly be made.
The question was, "How many persons are there in the Trinity?"
To this the student, without the slightest hesitation or difficulty, replied,
"Four; and a steerer."
The universal roar that followed may easily be conceived.
1828: "The Episcopal Watchman" (American) -
The banks of the Isis presented this evening a most joyous and animated scene.
Just before sun-set, the students had assembled by hundreds along the river,
to the south of Christ Church Walk, to be the spectators of a rowing match
between the elite of Exeter and Brazen-nose.
Large parties had gone half a mile down the river to catch the earliest glimpse of the rival boats;
others were distributed about in groups, or stood along the green margin of the stream;
and all appeared to enter, with the joyousness and animation peculiar to youth,
into the spirit of the contest which was about to be decided.
At length, when expectation was at the highest, "a shout, loud as from numbers without number",
from the throng which covered a bridge at the farthest verge of the plain,
announced the appearance of the boats ; and in a few minutes they came flying through the water
in very gallant style.
First came the flower of Brazennose, in a pearl-coloured, eight-oared cutter,
each rower stripped to his shirt sleeves, and resplendent with the yellow badge of his college.
A few feet astern followed the youth of Exeter, decorated with a crimson scarf,
in a cutter of dazzling white, and impelled by the same number of oars.
The cheers of the spectators made the welkin ring ;
and old father Isis, vexed in his deepest recesses by the sturdy strokes of the oarsmen,
dashed his waves indignantly against the shore.
A prize at the Olympian games could not have been contended for with a more ardent spirit of emulation.
By some mismanagement on the part of the Brazennose steersman,
they almost lost the little distance they had gained ;
and the cutters came out so nearly equal that it was decided to be "all but a bump".
To add to the spirit and joyousness of the scene, groups of ladies were hovering about in the walks
at a distance ; and the river was thickly bestudded with beautiful little two-oared shallops.
These trials of speed frequently take place during the fine part of the season,
and afford a manly and unexceptionable recreation to the students.
The Isis, which is here five or six rods wide, and rolls placidly through the meadows,
presents every desirable facility for such exhibitions.
I think I have already remarked, that the young men of this country
have an appearance of greater muscular strength and capability of bodily exertion,
than those of the United States.
I speak now of the class which is usually found at seats of learning.
They use far more vigorous exercise than the pallid students of our American colleges;
and are in consequence much less frequently the victims of debility, dyspepsia,
and all the abhorred train of ills, mental and bodily, which result from a too sedentary life.
The beautiful pleasure grounds attached to many of the colleges,
offer tempting inducements to quit the cells of study for recreation, during the allotted leisure hours.
"Christ Church Walk" is one of the noblest promenades I have ever seen.
It is a walk of hard gravel, forty feet in breadth, lined by a double row of most majestic elms,
and nearly half a mile long.
It is quite on the south side of the city,
and opens into the extensive meadows traversed by the serpentine Isis.
The Oxford Boat Race Crew of 1829 -
The Oxford Boat Race Crew of 1829
The Oxford 1829 boat was 47 feet long and 4ft 5 in wide
Just 22 feet longer than my punt and almost twice as wide! -
Oxford 1829 Boat
See Boat Race pages.
1831: Robert Montgomery -
And, Isis!—how serene thy current flows,
With tinted surface by the meadowy way,
Without a ripple, or a breeze at play:
Yet, once again shall summer barks be seen,—
And furrow'd waters, where their flight has been;
While sounding Rapture, as her heroes speed
From Iffley locks, flies glorying o'er the mead,
Hails from the bank, as up the river ride
In oary swiftness and exulting pride,
Her barks triumphal!—let the flag be rear'd,
And thousands echo, when the colour's cheer'd !
1834: How to row -
How to row 1834, fixed seat, no outriggers
1836; Figaro in London -
Alarming Blasphemy
...
The blasphemy to which we would call public attention is contained
in the report of a rowing-match among the Oxford University students.
The report states, that the boats are some of them called Christ's Church,
Corpus Christi, Baliol, Brazen Note, Jesus, and St. John's.
The very names are horrid and blasphemous enough,
but the details of the race has caused our religious blood to stand still in our holy veins,
and indeed it is altogether by far too much for us.
It states that, in the race, Jesus ran foul of Christ's Church,
and St. John's Brazen Note and Baliol ran smash astern of Corpus Christi.
O Procul este profani!
We did not know that the nose of Saint John was such a Brazen Nose as the reporters
have given him, We are shocked even unto shivering, and we are sad even unto blubbering.
1837: Pair Oar Challenge, Oxford to Westminster, The New Sporting Magazine -
Rowing Match, against time, from Oxford to London. —
The grand match to
row from Oxford to Westminster has been accomplished, and that, too, under
every difficulty and disadvantage. It was a fearful Herculean task, and never
yet was attempted with one pair of oars until the present occasion. The gentlemen
of the Guards performed this distance in a six-oared cutter about thirteen
years ago, in fifteen hours and forty-eight minutes. The present undertaking was
one against time, and the gentlemen who backed the latter at great odds
allowed three hours more for the performance with a pair of oars, in a wherry.
The betting, generally, was ten to one against its accomplishment in the given
time, eighteen hours and forty-eight minutes. The articles of the wager stated
that the gentleman, assisted by any person, landsman or waterman, whichever he
might name, should row the distance within a month of making the match, and
give four days' notice prior to the time of starting to the opposite party.
The opinion of the first and leading men on the river was, that the sitting in a boat
for eighteen hours was enough to beat any thing, independent of the labour.
The distance from Oxford to Westminster-bridge, by water, is 116 miles,
which, independent of all stoppages, and the delay of passing through 33 or 34
locks, would make it six miles and a half for every hour.
The name of the Gentleman
who attempted and accomplished this is Mr. G. M. Lander, and in the
course of his practice on the river, for some years, he had an excellent opportunity
of selecting a partner. He made a most judicious choice in taking Williams, of
Waterloo-bridge, the veteran who rowed from Richmond-bridge to Gravesend and
back, and whose lasting qualities and thorough game were known to be of the
first order. They had both been in training for three weeks, and were perfectly
well acquainted with each other's style of rowing. Although Mr. Lander so
repeatedly expresssed himself confident of success, yet the odds were five and six to one on time.
The notice was given on Saturday, and the beautiful black boat,
for oars' wagers, belonging to Chandler and Hunt, was chosen for the occasion,
and is unquestionably one of the best on the river for such an undertaking. Mr.
Lander was determined to have enough of it, and he and Williams started up
with the boat on Saturday. 9th September, performing, in the course of that and
the two following days, 97 miles up against the stream.
The Queen Bess, a beautiful eight-oared cutter, built for the University at
Cambridge, but belonging to Chandler, accompanied them, or was to have joined
them at Oxford, but did not succeed in getting further than Henley. The rain
descended in torrents as the men were about to get into their boat at two o'clock
on Thursday morning, 14th September, and many of the gentlemen residents
declared it would be absolutely ridiculous to attempt it; but Mr. Lander was
determined to take his chance. The wind was blowing great guns, and was all
against them, and the moon, which had shown in the early part of the evening,
became obscured. The start was deferred later than had been anticipated, and
the watches having been set, they drew their boat to Oxford-bridge at ten minutes
to four. It was quite dark, and there was a heavy drizzling rain. Half a
minute after the clock struck four, they started at an even but good pace, the
strokes being taken particularly long.
The steerage from Oxford to Abingdon-bridge, in the darkness that prevailed,
was exceedingly difficult, but Williams had the look out, and generalled it well, and
they passed through the different locks with less delay than could have been
anticipated, and were too hard at work to feel the chilly blast. The wind was
very violent, and in some of the reaches was a complete dead noser. After passing
eighteen locks, they reached Henley at twelve o'clock, and Marlow sixteen
minutes past one, being detained at Cresswell's Inn fifteen minutes to refresh.
They arrived at Maidenhead-bridge at a quarter past two o'clock in the day,
leaving them fifty-two miles yet to accomplish.
Mr. Lander's right hand was
fearfully swollen, but he stuck to his work well. At four they reached Staines-
bridge, where they stopped and partook of some sherry. When they reached
Teddington, it was twenty minutes past eight ; here they were detained nearly
ten minutes by a barge, but at two minutes past ten they went through Putney-
bridge, and ultimately arrived at the end of their long and tedious journey at
seventeen minutes to eleven, completing the distance in eighteen hours and forty-
three minutes, and winning with about five minutes to spare.
The men were helped out of the boat, and Mr. Lander was conveyed to
Chandler's, the Ship tavern, Mil1bank, where he was rubbed with flannels, and
took some tea with brandy. His hands were in a dreadful state, but he was
fresh, considering the greatness of the performance. He was put to bed immediately
afterwards, but was ever and anon disturbed by some anxious sporting
friend, who could not believe, save from his own lips, that he had won. Mr.
Lander, the day before rowing, weighed 12½ stone, and on going to scale a few
days after he did not weigh more than 11st. 21b. It is due to Williams to state,
that throughout the distance he worked nobly, and left nothing undone to ensure
the success of his partner.
Merton VIII, 1839
1839: The Sporting Magazine -
Oxford Challenge Silver Oars and Rudder
Some Members of the Oxford University Boat Club having presented a pair of Challenge Silver Oars
and a Challenge Silver Rudder to be rowed for annually by Members of not more than twelve terms standing,
in two-oared boats, in the October Term, the 15th and 16th of November were fixed on for the first contest.
The course was the same as that of the College Boat races ; no fouling allowed.
The following Gentlemen entered as competitors:—
University College - F. A. Menzies, R. Menzies : R. S. Fox, cockswain.
Merton College.— I. L. Scaly. I. J. J. Pocock : S. Cave, cockswain.
Christchurch and Balliol Colleges - R. Elwes, W. Rogers : E. Round, cockswain.
Brasen Nose College. — R. Walls, G. Meynell: C. E. Goodhart, cockswain.
The competitors met in the Club barge at two o'clock on the 15th, to draw lots,
when Messrs. Menzies and Rogers were matched for the first, and Messrs. Pocock and Walls for the second heat.
The start took place at Ifley, and after rowing one-third of the distance, Messrs. Menzies went ahead
and won by eight boats' length.
In the second Mr. Pocock's boat went ahead from the start, and won by double the distance of the preceding Match.
On the following day (the 16th) the winning boats took their stations at three o'clock,
and both crews laid to their work like men determined on victory:
the Messrs. Menzies, however, were "the stronger", and reached the goal off Christchnrch meadow
about four boats' lengths in advance of their opponents.
The oars and rudder were forthwith presented to the winners by Mr. Maberly, President of the O. U. B. C.
The oars, excepting the handle, tilling, and blade, are frosted :
on one side of the loom of each oar are the words "Challenge Oar",
and on the other the initials of the donors and date of presentation.
The yoke of the rudder is polished, with "Challenge Rudder" engraved on it;
the rudder itself frosted, with a scroll round it, and on either side the initials of the donors ;
the rudder strings of frosted twist.
All the eight-oared cutters were out, numerous boats covered the water,
and a large assemblage of spectators promenaded the walk in Christchurch meadow.
Oxford University Boat Races, 1842 -
Oxford University Boat Races, 1842
1846: Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine -
It was the last night of the boat races. All Oxford, town and gown, was on the move between Iffley
and Christchurch meadow. The reading man had left his ethics only half understood,
the rowing man his bottle more than half finished, to enjoy as beautiful a summer evening as
ever gladdened the banks of Isis.
One continued heterogeneous living stream was pouring on from "St Ole's" to King's barge,
and thence across the river in punts, down to the starting place by the lasher.
One moment your tailor puffed a cigar in your face, and the next,
just as you made some critical remark to your companion on the pretty girl you just passed,
and turned round to catch a second glimpse of her, you trod on the toes of your college tutor.
The contest that evening was of more than ordinary interest.
The new Oriel boat, a London-built clipper, an innovation in those days,
had bumped its other competitor easily in the previous race,
and only Christchurch now stood between her
and the head of the river.
And would they, could they, bump Christchurch tonight?
That was the question to which, for the time being, the coming examination,
and the coming St Leger, both gave way.
Christchurch had not been bumped for ten years before - whose old blue and white flag
stuck at the top of the mast as if it had been nailed there -
whose motto on the river had so long been "Nulli secundus?"
It was an important question, and the Christchurch men evidently thought so.
Steersmen and pullers had been summoned up from the country,
as soon as that impertinent new boat had begun to show symptoms of being a dangerous antagonist,
by the rapid progrees she was making from the bottom towards the head of the racing-boats.
The old heroes of bygone contests were enlisted again, like the Roman legionaries,
to fight the battle of their "vexillum",
the little three-cornered bit of blue and white silk before mentioned;
and the whole betting society of Oxford were divided into two great parties,
the Oriel and the Christchurch, the supporters of the old, or of the new dynasty of eight oars.
Never was signal more impatiently waited for than the pistol-shot
which was to set the boats in motion that night.
Hark!
"Gentlemen, are - you - ready?"
"No, No!" shouts some umpire, dissatisfied with the position of his own boat at the moment.
"Gentlemen, are you ready?" Again
"No, no, no!" How provoking! Christchurch and Oriel both beautifully placed,
and that provoking Exeter, or Worcester, or some boat that no one but its own crew
takes the slightest interest in tonight, right across the river!
And it will be getting dusk soon. Once more - and even Wyatt, the starter, is getting impatient -
"Are you ready?" Still a cry of
"No, no," from some crew who evidently never will be satisfied. But there goes the pistol.
They're off by all that's glorious!
"Now Oriel!"
"Now Christchurch" Hurrah! beautifully are both boats pulled - how they lash along the water!
Oriel gains evidently! But they have not got into their speed yet,
and the light boat has the best of it at starting.
"Hurrah, Oriel, its all your own way!"
"Now Christchurch, away with her!"
Scarcely is an eye turned on the boats behind; and indeed, the two first are going fast away from them.
They reach the Gut, and at the turn Oriel presses her rival hard.
The cheers are deafening; bets are three to one. She must bump her!
"Now Christchurch, go to work in the straight water!" Never did a crew pull so well,
and never at such a disadvantage. Their boat is a tub compared with Oriel.
See how she buries her bow at every stroke.
Hurrah, Christchurch! The old boat for ever! Those last three strokes gained a yard on Oriel!
She hold her own still! Away they go, those old steady practised oars, with that long slashing stroke,
and the strength and pluck begins to tell.
Well pulled Oriel! Now for it! Not an oar out of time, but as true together as a set of teeth.
But it won't do! Still Christchurch, by sheer dint of muscle, keeps her distance,
and the old flag floats triumphant another year.
1846: Statutes, University of Oxford, James Heywood, quotes the Oxford Herald -
On Monday next, June 22nd, the annual procession of the University boats will take place;
the boats will start from Iffley precisely at half-past seven, by firing the usual signal guns,
in the following order:—
Racing Boats:
Brasenose, Christ Church, Merton, St John's, Pembroke, Worcester, Lincoln,
Exeter, Trinity, Queen's, Magdalen Hall, University, Wadham, Magdalen, Balliol.
Torpid Boats:
Exeter, St John's, Brasenose, University, Christ Church, Worcester.
The boats will row up and salute the head boat (which will station itself at the University barge),
by tossing or raising their oars, pass under the left-hand arch of Folly Bridge,
and come out again under the centre arch; they will then proceed down the river,
turn round a punt moored off the Long Bridges, and return back again.
...
On Monday evening, June 22nd the usual procession of the boats of those Colleges
which had taken part in the races of the season, was formed, and left Iffley about half-past seven
o'clock to follow the above-mentioned course.
There were twenty-two boats in all, and their appearance was received with much cheering by the assembled visitors.
It was a very gay scene indeed, and was not a little enlivened by an excellent band
which was stationed at the University Club Boat.
1848: Oxford Rowing Colours -
Oxford Colours 1848
[ I recognise several of my contemporaries! ]
1853: Eliza Cook's Journal - the full text is here
King's barge is, par excellence, the barge of the river.
How you find yourself in a chaos of hats, caps, and boating-coats and Jerseys of every degree of repair or seediness!
How rigidly and how conscientiously the right of such property and the precise title-deed of possession are ascertained
and respected can only be told by those skilled in the costume of the river.
Of hats, however, the fashions have been less rigorously observed, and many a boat's crew may be seen on the river,
strangely forgetful of that accurate distinction of uniform, which it would have been thought high treason to violate.
...
King's barge is the great centre of the Oxford navy.
From King's barge float the streamers which announce, by their respective heights,
the winners of the day, and the relative state of the naval prowess of the various colleges.
Who knows not the anxiety with which, at the termination af the race,
when 'See the Conquering Hero' is performed as a drum and trombone duet,
when Christ Church has kept, or Brazen Nose "won the head of the river"
when Lincoln has “bumped" Worcester, or Pembroke "taken off";
— who knows not how all eyes are directed towards the lowering of those streamers,
and their subsequent elevation, in the order of the victories.
Who knows not Messrs. Spier's and Sons elaborate chart of straight, diagonal, and horizontal lines,
to which, as to the books of the Admiralty (only with the probability of a more satisfactory result),
you can appeal for the settlement of any historical doubt or difficulty touching the nautical achievements
of Trinity or New College in days of yore?
...
Cast your eye across the stream, and look as far as you can down towards Iffley.
A gun has just been fired — another, and another.
Far down, on the opposite side, you discern an indistinct, moving mass, hurrying towards Oxford.
Shouts are heard, at first all confused and chaotic, but gradually resolving into "Well done, Christ Church!"
"Well pulled, Brazen Nose," "Go it, Lincoln", "Go it, stroke", "Well done, Pembroke"
and a rush of hundreds pours along the opposite bank; each man at the top of his voice,
each man eulogistic or indignant, as the respective state of his own or of some other college boat may justify.
The enthusiasts in a race always "run up" with the boats, and it is as exciting a sight as you would wish to behold,
when one boat seems on the point of running into another, and that boat,
with a few vigorous strokes, quickly places herself at a hopeless distance.
It is a pleasant thing to see the motley group which a boat-race draws together.
Town and gown amalgamate wonderfully. See that respectable middle-aged don, who is lifting half a dozen
little boys and girls into a punt. You would not suppose that he is the great Professor of Inorganic Philosophy,
and that all those little boys and girls are revelling in the delight of being out with "pa."
But it is so. The worthy doctor has as great a love for boys and girls as for acids and alkaloids;
and what is still more to his credit, he does not mind how many people know it.
We love to see a don taking a genuine interest in the amusements of young men;
it is a tacit acknowledgment of a natural sympathy which is far more conducive to "university extension"
(in the best sense of the word) than the most severe lectorial austerity.
A boat-race seems to bridge over the unfathomable gulf between the don and the undergraduate.
No don ever feels ashamed (unless he was a bad rower) of his ancient boating career.
Veteran heads of houses will condescend to recommend boating as an exercise;
and we have even known them unbend so far as to grant the use of the college-hall
for a supper in honour of the heroes of the newly-achieved victory.
A word, too, on the subject of boating, as pursued in the University.
Boating is unquestionably the healthiest and most athletic, chest-expanding amusement pursued at Oxford,
and one for which the place possesses every resource and advantage that can be desired.
But there are as many varieties not only in the manner of pursuing this occupation, as in the men who practise it.
There are the men who boat, and who do little or nothing else.
... Nevertheless, your thorough reading man is often a good boating man likewise.
There are plenty of healthy young fellows, thank Heaven!
who can keep both their heads and their arms at work, without finding one interfere with the other.
1859:
An Oxford Boatrace, an American's Impression.
1861: T Hughes,
Tom Brown at Oxford -
[ This book, not as well known as Tom
Brown’s Schooldays, has several river stories.
Our hero takes a skiff from Christchurch Meadow down to Sandford and
comes to grief spectacularly on a weir and has to be rescued.
At the end of his first year he gains a place
in the college eight and makes his first bump.
They go on to become “Head of the River”. ]
The Start at Iffley from Tom Brown at Oxford, 1861.
The jackets were thrown on shore, and
gathered up by the boatmen in attendance. The crew poised their oars, No. 2
pushing out her head, and the Captain doing the same for the stern.
Miller took the starting-rope in his hand.
“How the wind catches her stern,” he said;
”here, pay out the rope one of you. No, not you - some fellow with a strong hand.
Yes, you'll do,” he went on, as Hardy stepped down the bank and took hold of the rope;
”let me have it foot by foot as I want it. Not too quick;
make the most of it - that'll do. Two and three just dip your oars in to give
her way.”
The rope paid out steadily, and the boat
settled to her place. But now the wind rose again, and the stern drifted
towards the bank.
“You must back her a bit, Miller,
and keep her a little further out, or our oars on stroke side will catch the
bank.”
“So I see; curse the wind. Back her, one
stroke all. Back her, I say!” shouted Miller.
It is no easy matter to get a crew to
back her an inch just now, particularly as there are in her two men who have
never rowed a race before, except in the Torpids, and
one who has never rowed a race, in his life.
However, back she comes; the starting
rope slackens in Miller’s left hand, and the stroke, unshipping his oar, pushes
the stern gently out.
There goes the second gun! One
short minute more, and we are off. Short minute,
indeed! You wouldn’t say so if you were in the boat, with your heart in
your mouth, and trembling all over like a man with the
palsy. Those sixty seconds before the starting gun in your first race –
why, they are like a life time.
“By Jove, we are drifting in again,” said Miller, in horror. The Captain looked grim, but said nothing;
it was too late now for him to be unshipping
again.
“Here, catch hold of the long boat-hook, and fend her off.”
Hardy, to whom this was addressed,
seized the boat-hook, and, standing with one foot in the water, pressed the end
of the boat-hook against the gunwhale, at the full stretch of his arm, and so,
by main force, kept the stern out. There was just room for stroke oars to
dip, and that was all. The starting rope was as taut as a harp-string;
will Miller’s left hand hold out?
It is an awful moment. But the
coxswain, though almost dragged backwards off his seat, is equal to the
occasion. He holds his watch in his right hand with the tiller rope.
“Eight seconds more only. Look out
for the flash. Remember, all eyes in the boat.”
There it comes, at last – the flash of the
starting gun. Long before the sound of
the report can roll up the river, the whole pent-up life and energy which has
been held in leash, as it were, for the last six minutes, is let loose, and
breaks away with a bound and a dash which he who has felt it will remember for
his life, but the like of which, will he ever feel again? The starting ropes drop from the coxswain’s
hands, the oars flash into the water, and gleam on the feather, the spray flies
from them, and the boats leap forward.
The crowds on the bank scatter, and rush along,
each keeping as near as it may be to its own boat.
Some of the men on the towing path, some on
the very edge of it, often in, the water – some slightly in advance, as if they
could help to drag their boat forward – some behind, where they can see the
pulling better – but all at full speed, in wild excitement, and shouting at the
top of their voices to those on whom the honour of the college is laid.
“Well pulled all!”
“Pick her up there, five!”
“You’re gaining every stroke!”
“Time in the bows!”
“Bravo, St.Ambrose!”
On they rushed by the side of the boats, jostling
one another, stumbling, struggling, and panting along.
For a quarter of a mile along the bank the
glorious maddening hurly-burly extends, and rolls up the side of the stream.
...
The St. Ambrose’s boat is well away from the
boat behind, there is a great gap between the accompanying crowds;
and now, as they near the Gut, she hangs for
a moment or two in hand, though the roar from the bank grows louder and louder,
and Tom is already aware that the St. Ambrose crowd is melting into the one
ahead of them.
“We must be close to Exeter!” The thought flashes into him, and it would
seem into the rest of the crew at the same moment.
For, all at once, the strain seems taken off
their arms again; there is no more
drag; she springs to the stroke as she
did at the start; and Miller’s face,
which had darkened for a few seconds, lightens up again. Miller’s face and
attitude are a study. Coiled up into the
smallest possible space, his chin almost resting on his knees, his hands close
to his sides, firmly but lightly feeling the rudder, as a good horseman handles
the mouth of a free-going hunter, - if a coxswain could make a bump by his own
exertions, surely he would do it. No
sudden jerks of the St. Ambrose rudder will you see, watch as you will from the
bank; the boat
never hangs through fault of his, but easily and gracefully rounds every
point.
“You’re gaining! You’re gaining!” he now and then mutters to
the Captain, who responds with a wink, keeping his breath for other
matters. Isn’t he grand, the Captain, as
he comes forward like lightning, stroke after stroke, his back flat, his teeth
set, his whole frame working from the hips with the regularity of a
machine? As the space still narrows, the
eyes of the fiery little coxswain flash with excitement, but he is far too good
a judge to hurry the final effort before the victory is safe in his grasp.
The two crowds are mingled now, and no mistake;
and the shouts come all in a heap over the water.
“Now, St Ambrose, six strokes more.”
“Now, Exeter, you’re gaining; pick her up.”
“Mind the Gut, Exeter.”
“Bravo, St Ambrose.”
The water rushes by, still eddying from the strokes of the boat ahead.
Tom fancies now he can hear their oars and
the workings of their rudder, and the voice of their
coxswain. In another moment both boats
are in the Gut, and a perfect storm of shouts reaches them from the crowd, as
it rushes madly off to the left to the foot-bridge, amidst which
“Oh, well steered, well steered, St. Ambrose!” is the prevailing cry.
Then Miller, motionless as a statue till now,
lifts his right hand and whirls the tassel round his head;
“Give it her now, boys; six strokes and we are into them.” Old Jervis lays down that great broad back,
and lashes his oar through the water with the might of a giant, the crew catch
him up in another stroke, the tight new boat answers to the spurt, and Tom
feels a little shock behind him and then a grating sound, as Miller shouts,
“Unship oars bow and three,” and the nose of the St. Ambrose boat glides
quietly up the side of the Exeter, till it touches their stroke oar.
Read all the rowing material in Tom Brown at Oxford
here
1866: The Arts of Rowing and Training.
Bump, 1877.
Will you look at the gearing! (The ratio between the oarsman's end of the oar and the water end).
This is [I now think!] typical of fixed seat rowing
The cox on the left is acknowledging that a bump has been made.
1885: A Bumping Race, The Royal River -
A Bumping Race, The Royal River, 1885.
[ In the above bumping race the 3rd eight is faster
than the 2nd eight which is faster than the 1st eight.
However it appears (and it must
have been a close thing) that the 3rd eight has already
bumped the 2nd eight (whose cox has his hand raised in acknowledgement)
and the 1st eight has got away untouched (despite being overlapped
by the 2nd eight, witness the capped man with the bell, bottom
centre, signalling this fact). This
represents a failure by the cox of the 2nd eight whose boat was fast
enough to have bumped the 1st eight, but through less than perfect
steering failed to do so. In the next
race they will start in the order 1st, 3rd, 2nd.
In that next race, on this evidence, the 3rd
eight will very easily bump the 1st eight leaving the 2nd
eight well behind.
In the following race the starting order would then be 3rd, 1st, 2nd.
On the basis of the evidence so far the 3rd eight will leave the 1st eight far behind.
The 2nd eight ought to bump the first eight, though it might be a close thing.
In the modern races the rules change slightly between the Torpids (March) and the Eights (May).
In the Torpids the bumped boat continues to row whilst the bumping boat draws to one side. In the
Eights both boats stop once a bump occurs.
My memories of Cambridge bumps are in Me and Water.
Glory and Disaster! ]
1859: The Procession of Boats -
1859: The Procession of Boats
1873: Taunt's Map and Guide to the Thames -
Oxford should be seen during the "Commemoration Week", which recurs annually in June:
then, throughout the city, and on the river, pleasure is the order of the day,
and everything wears holiday garb.
In the gay barges lining the beautiful banks of Christ Church Walk,
enlivened by the varied costumes of many oarsmen, the river has, at Oxford, charms
which it can boast nowhere else.
1863: The Oxford Commemoration: The Procession of Boats -
1863: The Oxford Commemoration: The Procession of Boats
1867:
BOATING LIFE AT OXFORD; Chapter 1 & 2
Chapter 3 (Bumps Supper)
Chapter 4 (Boat Race)
1872: The Oxford Boatrace Crew, Practising on the Isis during the floods -
1872: The Oxford Boatrace Crew, Practising on the Isis during the floods
I have reversed this print to show Stroke on the conventional side. Email me if I'm wrong!
The Oxford Crew at Home
The University Barge
1888:
Boating by W B Woodgate - read complete text and prints online
1889: The great W.H.Grenfell, who rowed three times for Oxford
and was President of the O.U.B.C. in 1879 wrote an article for the English Illustrated Magazine
on ROWING AT OXFORD.
It is too long to be quoted in full on this page and so I have placed it on a page of its own.
Interestingly that same edition contained ROWING AT CAMBRIDGE by no less a figure than R.C.Lehmann - so I will
include that for contrast (when I have time!)
1890: Boat Race correspondence -
In the correspondence between the University Boat Club Presidents
to set the details for the 1890 race, the date became a sticking point,
flashing over when Guy Nickalls [of Oxford] wrote
that Cambridge wanted to get the best of everything
because they were “a poorer lot than usual.”
Less than tactful stuff from [Oxford] that had lost four in a row!
To celebrate this Inter-University Incident, Rudy Lehmann, [of Cambridge]
penned thirty-two stanzas for Granta, the year-old Cambridge magazine -
THE QUARREL: 'A POORER LOT THAN USUAL'
Strew your heads with dust and ashes, O ye sons of sedgy Cam;
Let your speech be meek and humble as the baa of bleating lamb;
Let your bloods go robed in sackcloth and be careless of their boots,--
You’re “a poorer lot than usual, – rather lower than the brutes.
Fiery Nickalls wrote the latter, fiery Nickalls, fine and large,--
And his frenzied eye flashed fury as he sat within his barge.
Long enough have we submitted; now the time has come to strike;
Shall “a poorer lot than usual” settle all things as they like?
“I, the winner of the Wingfields, of the Diamonds winner too,
Who at stroke, or six, or seven am the mainstay of the crew;
I, whom friends call Guy or Luney,” it was thus the chieftain spoke, --
“Of ‘a poorer lot than usual’ will not tamely bear the yoke.
“Nay, my brothers of the Isis, let us write to them and say
They shall trample us no longer in the old familiar way;
And the banner of our Boat Club, as it flutters in its pride,
By ‘a poorer lot than usual’ shall no longer be defied.”
So he wrote it, and he signed it in the Presidential chair,
And he folded and addressed it, and he posted it with care;
And the heedless postman bore it, little recking of the frown
Of “a poorer lot than usual” who reside in Cambridge town.
. . . .
THE OXFORD LETTER IS RECEIVED BY THE CAMBRIDGE BOATCLUB CAPTAINS
And they sat in solemn conclave, there within the panelled hall,
Where the golden names of oarsmen gleam and glitter on the wall;
Mighty Muttle read the letter, lord and master of the crew,
In “a poorer lot than usual” of socks and shorts and shoes.
Then they looked at one another as they heard it with dismay,
And one said, “This is awful,” and another, “Let us pray”;
Till at last one rose and murmured, and his fingers, as he rose,
Were “a poorer lot than usual” – extended from his nose.
“Thus,” he said, “I answer Nickalls of the boast so loud and big;
Let him mount, and, if he likes it, ride to Putney on a pig.
Let him go to Bath or blazes, go to Jericho and back,
Or “a poorer lot than usual” place his head within a sack.
“But when next he writes to Cambridge let him try another plan;
Manners cost no more than twopence, and ‘tis manners makyth man.
And, O Muttle! if you meet him, tell him plainly face to face
That ‘a poorer lot than usual’ mean to beat him in the race.”
But the name calling had to stop. Nickalls and Rowe had to go to Cambridge to make peace, cemented at a banquet in their honour:
THE RECONCILIATION, OXFORD IN CAMBRIDGE
Oh! sadly flows the Isis, full sadly go the crews,
And the Blue-aspiring oarsmen all have yielded to the blues,
Through hall and quad and college sweeps the universal moan,--
“Give Guy and Reggie back to us; we cannot row alone.”
To Iffley drift the “toggers,” as slow as any hearse;
For while the men forget their form the coach forgets to curse;
And bow, who screws most painfully, forgets to murmur “Blank,”
As the cox forgets his rudder-strings and runs into the bank.
. . . .
But Guy has hastened Camward; he leaves them to their sighs,
And Reggie Rowe goes with him, curly Reggie of the eyes --
Reggie the slim and supple, the pride of all the Eight,
Who never left his bed too soon, and never yet rowed late.
See how our Muttle greets them; his childlike smile is bland,
That heathen Cantab, Muttle, as he shakes them by the hand:
“Now, welcome both to Cambridge; first lunch and then away
To watch ‘the poorer---’ Hem! I mean the crew at work to-day.”
. . . .
Muttle at six is “stylish,” so at least the Field reports;
No man has ever worn, I trow, so short a pair of shorts.
His blade sweeps through the water, as he swings his 13.10,
And pulls it all, and more than all, that brawny king of men.
. . . .
And, now the work is over, the rival chieftains sit
And talk of friendly nothings in their armchairs at the Pitt;
And yet methought I marked a shade of sadness on the face
Of Nickalls, as he thought upon the coming Putney race.
But oh! that merry evening the clash of knives and forks,
The sparkle of the wineglass, and the popping of the corks;
And the walls and rafters echoed and re-echoed to our cry,
As we drained our brimming bumpers to Reggie and to Guy.
So here’s a health to Oxford men; there came a storm of late,
But our sturdy friendship weathered it, nor foundered on a date;
And, when the furious race is past, again we’ll meet and dine,
And drink a cup of kindness yet for days of auld lang syne.
As a totally unbiased Cambridge man I conclude Cambridge had the best of that!
However, Oxford won in 1890 (and the next eight years!)
Before you think I'm just being humble, see Boatrace 2010 with summary chart of wins etc
Boat-race at Barnes Bridge, Henry Taunt, 1890
© Oxfordshire County Council Photographic Archive;
1892: Saluting the Head Boat -
1892: Saluting the Head Boat.
E W Hazelhurst, Our Beautiful Homeland, Oxford -
Christ Church Meadow, with its Broad Walk and its mighty trees, ...
It is here that on Show Sunday, in Commemoration Week, in June, those who hold high places
in the University, with favoured guests, and some few undergraduates, pace up and down,
or used to pace up and down in days gone by; for it belongs to a more modern pen to say
whether the old custom still obtains, or whether it has passed away with other things
of ceremony ...
1892: Adventures and Letters of Richard Harding Davis -
Oxford - May, 1892.
Dear Family:
I came down here on Saturday morning with the Peels, who gave an enormous boating party and luncheon
on a tiny little island. The day was beautiful with a warm brilliant sun, and the river was just as
narrow and pretty as the head of the Squan river, and with old walls and college buildings added.
We had the prettiest Mrs. Peel in our boat and Mrs. Joseph Chamberlain, who was Miss Endicott and
who is very sweet and pretty.
We raced the other punts and rowboats and soon, after much splashing
and exertion, reached the head of the river. Then we went to tea in New College and to see the
sights of the different colleges now on the Thames. The barges of the colleges, painted different
colors and gilded like circus band-wagons and decorated with coats of arms and flying great flags,
lined the one shore for a quarter of a mile and were covered by girls in pretty frocks and
under-grads in blazers.
Then the boats came into sight one after another with the men running
alongside on the towpath. This was one of the most remarkable sights of the country so far.
There were over six hundred men coming six abreast, falling and stumbling and pushing, shouting
and firing pistols. It sounded like a cavalry charge and the line seemed endless.
The whole thing was most theatrical and effective.
E W Hazelhurst, Our Beautiful Homeland, Oxford -
None who have once heard it can forget the roar mingled with the rattles, pistol shots and bells, that draw closer and even closer, as the Eights come racing to the Barges. Scarcely music perhaps, but for all that a part of the song of Oxford life.
1894: R H Forster, Considers the plight of an overweight cox. He was a Cambridge man - but what cox can afford to ignore the sentiment? -
What more pathetic sight is there than a coxswain who starts his career with not ill-founded hopes of winning distinction, and then begins to increase in bulk, his prospects sinking as his weight rises, till the vision of a ‘blue’ fades first to the less artistic white of a Trial Cap, and then sets altogether?
I once was a light little cox,
The smartest that ever was seen;
For I stood but five three in my socks,
And weighed barely seven thirteen:
The figures I give you are true,
And I coxed in a club Trial Eight;
And they said I was sure of my blue,
And I was till I went up in weight.
The change was begun in the Vac.,
For I spared not the well-fatted calf;
And I found myself, when I came back,
Increased by a stone and a half.
Still they set me to cox a Lent crew,
But docked my allowance of grog,
Threw doubts on my chance of a blue,
And said I was fat as a hog.
Yet still there comes increase of weight,
My garments expansion require,
I project o’er each side of the eight,
And my buttons are fastened with wire.
They make me take runs in the Backs,
(Now my running is marvellous poor):
And their pointed allusions to “stacks”
Are very ill-natured, I’m sure.
O ‘Varsity President, you
Are in need of an oarsman of weight:
Then give me, O give me my blue!
Next year, ‘twill I fear, be too late.
For if in this way I enlarge,
Next year, I would have you to note,
Nought less than the bulkiest barge
Will be able to hold me and float!
Ouch says he - who has just returned from coxing a reunion crew, forty years on,
at thirteen and a half stone - and we beat one undergraduate VIII!
1895: A bumping Race, Francis Frith -
1895: A bumping Race, Francis Frith
1896: "The Spill" - At the bank New College, next it Balliol, which has been run into by Trinity, which in turn has been bumped by Exeter -
The Spill, 1896 from Balliol College Rowing Archives
1893: The Oxford Magazine -
BEFORE THE EIGHTS
MID-May ! and the Eights are upon us, and looming already in sight
The vision of Schools that we look to with terror, yet half with delight,
To think that at last they'll be done with, and clad in a decent degree,
We shall laugh at our Tutors and leave them to "viva" themselves, and be free.
Yet 'tis pleasant to linger a moment, while May wears the glory of June,
And the fragrance of midsummer floats from the meadows, where sudden and soon
The flowers of several seasons have blossomed together in one,
Ragged robin and clover, and comfrey and sorrel ablaze in the sun.
What a Term ! was the cricket-field ever baked brown at so early a date ?
Or the river so shallow that scarce there is water to carry an Eight ?
Yet for sake of our sisters and cousins, some water no doubt will be found
To float us a week for the racing and save us from going aground.
For though Tutors be born with discussions to fix the foundation of Ford,
Though the Council is still in existence, and Delegates meet to be bored,
Though Professors, turned architects, lecture so learned on "gablet" and "squinch"
And explain how St. Mary's was built at the first to the tenth of an inch
Still the pleasant May world will go gaily unheeding, and bonnet and frock
Invade the Broad Walk and the Barges, and from Folly Bridge down to the Lock
The stream will be crowded with faces as eager as ever to see
If Magdalen keeps head of the river, or which will be first of the three
That have struggled these years; & the shout will re-echo from lungs that are strong
On the meadow, the bank and the Barges, and they will be flashing along,
Those sixty-foot racers that throb to the stroke as the lilt of a song.
So the race goes its way, and St. Mary's looks wistfully down at the stream
She has loved through the ages, to wonder if scaffolds and poles are a dream,
And Professors and pedants but shadows that pass as a vapour and die,
To leave her unharmed and triumphant the glorious Queen of the High.
1900:
OXFORD ROWING by W E Sherwood
1900: Eights Week. Modern day organisers may wish to look carefully at this photograph before
despairing about our problems with river traffic -
1900: Eights Week punts
1901: Oxford Eights -
Oxford Eights: 'The last spurt for the bump'
1906: Oxford, Andrew Lang -
The river is the chief feature in the scenery, and in the life of
amusement. From the first day of term, in October, it is crowded
with every sort of craft. The freshman admires the golden colouring
of the woods and Magdalen tower rising, silvery, through the blue
autumnal haze.
As soon as he appears on the river, his weight,
strength, and "form" are estimated. He soon finds himself pulling in
a college "challenge four," under the severe eye of a senior cox, and
by the middle of December he has rowed his first race, and is
regularly entered for a serious vocation.
The thorough-going
boating-man is the creature of habit. Every day, at the same hour,
after a judicious luncheon, he is seen, in flannels, making for the
barge. He goes out, in a skiff, or a pair, or a four-oar, ...
Chief of all the boating-man goes out in an eight, and
rows down to Iffley, with the beautiful old mill and Norman church,
or accomplishes "the long course." He rows up again, lounges in the
barge, rows down again (if he has only pulled over the short course),
and goes back to dinner in hall.
The table where men sit who are in
training is a noisy table, and the athletes verge on "bear-fighting"
even in hall. A statistician might compute how many steaks, chops,
pots of beer, and of marmalade, an orthodox man will consume in the
course of three years. He will, perhaps, pretend to suffer from the
monotony of boating shop, boating society, and broad-blown boating
jokes. But this appears to be a harmless affectation. The old
breakfasts, wines, and suppers, the honest boating slang, will always
have an attraction for him.
The summer term will lose its delight
when the May races are over. Boating-men are the salt of the
University, so steady, so well disciplined, so good-tempered are
they. The sport has nothing selfish or personal in it; men row for
their college, or their University; not like running--men, who run,
as it were, each for his own hand. Whatever may be his work in life,
a boating-man will stick to it. His favourite sport is not
expensive, and nothing can possibly be less luxurious.
1906: Waiting for the Cox, Andrew Lang -
Waiting for the Cox, 1906, in Oxford, by Andrew Lang
1906: Coaching the Eight, Andrew Lang -
Coaching the Eight, 1906, in Oxford, by Andrew Lang
I think only the Blue Boat was allowed to have a coach on horseback
Just below the Gut on the left bank is the third of the mouths
of the River Cherwell, - Freshman’s River ...
1906: G.E.Mitton -
The Eights, which take place in the middle of the summer term, are the event of the year to Oxford, and intensely exciting they may be. The lowest boat starts from the lasher above Iffley, and the course ends at Salter's Barge. But the crux of the whole matter often lies in The Gut, and much depends on the ability of the cox to steer a clean course, as to whether his boat is bumped or bumps. As the boats in cutting the curve below this crucial point come diagonally at it, disaster here often overtakes a crew which has before been doing well. The [third mouth of] the Cherwell is navigable only in a canoe and by good luck; but the tale is told that one cox, in his first year, being excited beyond reason, mistook it for the main channel, and, steering right ahead, landed his crew high and dry on the shoals. Hence the name, the Freshman's River.
[ The 'lasher above Iffley' may be puzzling. 'Lasher' is a type of weir.
But Iffley Lock
was totally rebuilt in 1924 - and before that there was a weir on the right bank
above the lock. See Iffley Lock for map. ]
Other disasters occur in the heat of the moment. In 2007 at least two boats ran up the bank
and one hit a tree. Three in this boat caught a monumental crab with a bumping boat only feet
behind. Not often you see an oars person holding two oars in a conventional eight! -
Whoops! - 2007
And the name of the above boat? Alice Liddell
named after the original hearer of the Alice in Wonderland stories (See Isis).
Mind you as disasters go it would be hard to beat the following from 1873 -
A fearful scrimmage occurred among the upper crafts. Balliol had bumped Trinity, and failed to get out of the way of Lincoln, who were driven against the wall by Queens. Wadham in hot pursuit, cut right into Queens, and were themselves upset by Oriel. Into the midst of this mass of confusion came the luckless Exeter; Pembroke were upon them in an instant, and Magdalen rushed into Pembroke, followed by Corpus, who managed to paddle past the debris and reach the winning post. Exeter and Balliol were each fined £5.
1906: Eights Week, Francis Frith -
1906: Eights Week, Francis Frith
1906: G.E. Mitton -
To the left are the college barges, resplendent in many colours, with their slender flagstaffs rising against a background of the shady trees that border Christchurch meadows. The reach of water beside them is alive with boats, and the oars rise and dip with the regularity of the legs of a monster centipede. The barges should be seen in Eights week, when they are in their glory, occupied by the mothers, sisters, and aunts of the undergraduates, dressed in costumes that in mass look like brilliant flower-beds.
Postcard of the scene below Folly Bridge in 1900.
1908: Bumps starting guns at Iffley -
Bumps starting guns at Iffley, 1908
2007: Bumps starting guns at Iffley -
Bumps starting guns at Iffley, 2007
1909: J E Vincent, The Story of the Thames -
[This reach] ... is subject, of course, to the ordinary rules of navigation,
but it also has a law of its own; and that law is that all other craft must make way
for eight-oars in practice at all times, and most especially for the University Eight,
or one of the Trial Eights.
You may search the Statutes of England and the Law Reports in vain for that law
or confirmation of it. It has not that Sanction upon which jurists insist,
but it can by no means be disobeyed with impunity, nor would anyone save a congenital
churl desire to disregard it. For the fundamental truth of the matter is that,
no matter what the rights of the public may be in the eye of the law,
the river from Iffley Lock to Folly Bridge is set aside in the main during term time
for serious rowing by those undergraduates of Oxford University who make oarsmanship
the earnest business of their outdoor life at Oxford.
They may be inclined to strain their rights,
but whoso should attempt to assert his in opposition would be likely to discover
that Oxford water can be very cold, and Oxford language quite warm,
and he would probably obtain scanty consolation if he tried Oxford law
about the matter afterwards.
[ This may be overstating the case in 2009 - but just be aware that athletes in training
should be respected and try to stay out of the way! ]
1922: from 'Zuleika Dobson, or An Oxford Love Story' by Max Beerbohm
[rather cavalierly edited to leave largely the rowing material] -
The enormous eight young men in the thread-like skiff — the skiff that would scarce have seemed
an adequate vehicle for the tiny "cox" who sat facing them — were staring up at Zuleika
with that uniformity of impulse which, in another direction, had enabled them
to bump a boat on two of the previous "nights."
If to-night they bumped the next boat, Univ., then would Judas be three places "up" on the river;
and to-morrow Judas would have a Bump Supper.
Furthermore, if Univ. were bumped to-night, Magdalen might be bumped to-morrow.
Then would Judas, for the first time in history, be head of the river.
Oh tremulous hope!
Yet, for the moment, these eight young men seemed to have forgotten the awful responsibility
that rested on their over-developed shoulders.
Their hearts, already strained by rowing, had been transfixed this afternoon by Eros' darts.
All of them had seen Zuleika as she came down to the river;
and now they sat gaping up at her, fumbling with their oars.
The tiny cox gaped too; but he it was who first recalled duty.
With piping adjurations he brought the giants back to their senses.
The boat moved away down stream, with a fairly steady stroke.
Not in a day can the traditions of Oxford be sent spinning.
From all the barges the usual punt-loads of young men were being ferried across to the towing-path —
young men naked of knee, armed with rattles, post-horns, motor-hooters, gongs, and other instruments of clangour.
Though Zuleika filled their thoughts, they hurried along the towing-path, as by custom, to the starting-point.
...
hark! the sound of a distant gun. It was the signal for the race
...
The first boat came jerking past in mid-stream;
and the towing-path, with its serried throng of runners, was like a live thing, keeping pace.
...
it seemed as though all the Wagnerian orchestras of Europe, with the Straussian ones thrown in,
were here to clash in unison the full volume of right music for the glory of the reprieve.
The fact was that the Judas boat had just bumped Univ., exactly opposite the Judas barge.
The oarsmen in either boat sat humped, panting, some of them rocking and writhing, after their wholesome exercise.
But there was not one of them whose eyes were not upcast at Zuleika.
And the vocalisation and instrumentation of the dancers and stampers on the towing-path had by this time
ceased to mean aught of joy in the victors or of comfort for the vanquished,
and had resolved itself into a wild wordless hymn to the glory of Miss Dobson.
Behind her and all around her on the roof of the barge, young Judasians were venting in like manner their hearts
through their lungs.
Torpids, 1937
Eights Week, "Came to Oxford", Muirhead Bone, published 1952 - but I think the account and illustrations are 1938 -
1952: 'Came to Oxford' by Gertrude Bone, illustrated by Muirhead Bone -
But these [the Cherwell et al] are the lilies and languors of the river.
The Shining Mile is stern endeavour.
(To forestall any remonstrance from earnest people, I chronicle the fact that the length actually rowed by the College Eights is one mile and two furlongs.)
'Rugby? Oh you mean to play Rugby? Well, of course, I've nothing against Rugby. It's a nice little game.
But remember! A College stands by its boats!'
You are impressed by that visit of the great Captain of Boats.
You join the band of consecrated oarsmen sitting apart at table. You eat next-to-raw beef steaks. No smokes! No drinks!
'The College stands by its boats!'
You frequent the river.
I have a fancy for it on a winter morning of frost shining in sunlight.
From one of those ancient narrows for defence called a gut you look on a silver river at pause.
The towing-path is empty. The free ferry crosses a gleam with the gravity of Time on the dial.
You look back and forth at that bend in the path and see a clear and empty river shining and waiting, the shining mile of hope
lying under the willows with their threatening fists.
And all the Term, for you the river bears the weight (rolling smooth again after washing high up to the roots of the willows)
of the splashing and striving of boats - your boat!
Your muscles ache! You patiently endure a great deal of flyting from an irascible coach on a bicycle.
You steady your stroke; your leg-work improves; a grunt of approbation heartens you for a week.
Term goes by and you can do nothing else.
You begin to wish you hadn't - and then it comes! Mastery over those difficult paces, easy muscle, conquered breathing!
You walk like a person apart and precious. Nothing less than the shining mile for you!
Eights Week: From Christ Church Boat House, "Came to Oxford", Muirhead Bone, 1938 -
It's nervous work when it comes; when the boat swings out from the barge and you settle your legs and strike water
under the eyes of the elegancies in appropriate costume, and the other men of the College.
The elegancies you don't mind so much.
After all they are probably more afraid of you than you are of them.
But the appraising eyes of the other men and other crews - these are the formidable tests.
'The College stands by its boats!'
Once out on the shining mile you are spared the laments of the longshoremen that the Eights 'isn't what it was!'
'Why! I can remember the time when there was bands playing and they trimmed the barges up with flowers. Hundreds, thousands, there was!
It's nothing like it was in my young days.'
You don't hear how the weather is always bad at the Eights - 'of course today's an exception!'
You hear nothing of these disclaimers as you measure your shining mile - three heart beats to two strokes, a difficult rhythm.
They are beautiful things these swallow-tapered boats and not all longshoremen are captious.
I was peering through a certain railing which gives a long sight of the boats when Oriel swung past -
a boat and crew who had found themselves and were everything that a College longs for in the way of rowing,
when I heard a voice chanting beside me, and all for its own pleasure too, not in the least for my information,
'A lovely crew! That's lovely rowing! A lovely crew that is!'
If the gentleman had been Welsh (perhaps he was) I should have said that the delight of his subject had brought him into the Hwyl,
for he sang on in a fine afflatus till they were past.
For a sight of the finish and beauty of water-craft wait for the parade of the golden boats at the end of the Eights,
and after it is all over except a few belated pistol-shots to carry you on to the next Eights week, slip under the alders and beech beside the Cherwell
and see the apotheosis of all that is charming in English rivers.
Perhaps just because I was not expecting it, the sight seemed to me especially delightful.
The sunlight slanted over the buttercup-meadows of Christ Church and the whitethorn shook all its fragrance into the light.
Scarlet thorns, heavy to the ground with blossom, made a quiet brilliance on the green bank of the river.
Foundations of beryl and jasper lay in the water by the tunnel of birch and alder when the returning punts broke through.
By ones and twos at first and then in a medley they came, drawn, it seemed, by teams of coloured balloons
and urged on by the gay voices of girls.
They drew homeward and away and as I watched them I thought that the return of the punts from the last of the Eights on that superb evening of May,
one of the prettiest sights I had ever seen in England.
Eights Week, the return of the Punts: "Came to Oxford", Muirhead Bone, 1938
How to balance a racing boat (I wish I'd read that 40 years ago!
A History of Oxford College Rowing.
(Folly Bridge)
Introduction
Estuary
PLA
QEII Br
Barrier
Tower Br
Custom Ho
London Br
; Frost Fairs
Cannon St Rb
The Great Stink
Southwark Br
Millenium Br
Blackfriars Rb
Blackfriars Br
Waterloo Br
Charing Cross Rb
Westminster Br
Lambeth Br
Vauxhall Br
Victoria Rb
Chelsea Br
Albert Br
Battersea Br
Battersea Rb
Wandsworth Br
Fulham Rb
Putney Br
Hammersmith Br
Barnes Rb
Chiswick Br
Kew Rb
Kew Br
RICHMOND
Twickenham Br
Richmond Rb
Richmond Br
TEDDINGTON
Kingston Rb
Kingston Br
Ditton Slip
Hampton Br
MOLESEY
SUNBURY
Walton Br
Desborough Cut
SHEPPERTON
Chertsey Br
CHERTSEY
M3 Br
Laleham Slip
PENTON HOOK
Staines Rb
Staines Br
Runnymede Br
BELL WEIR
Magna Carta Is
OLD WINDSOR
Albert Br
Datchet
Victoria Br
Black Potts Rb
ROMNEY
Eton
Windsor Br
Windsor Rb
Windsor Slip
Elizabeth Br
BOVENEY
Dorney Lake
York Cut
Summerleaze Fb
MonkeyIsland
New Thames Br
BRAY
Bray Slip
Maidenhead Rb
Maidenhead Br
Below Boulters
BOULTERS
Cliveden
Hedsor
COOKHAM
Cookham Slip
Cookham Br
BourneEnd RFb
Quarry Woods
A404 Br
MARLOW
Marlow Br
Bisham
TEMPLE
HURLEY
Medmenham
Culham Ct
Aston Slip
HAMBLEDEN
Temple Is
Fawley Ct
Remenham
Regatta
Phyllis Ct
Henley Slip
Leander
Red Lion
Henley Br
Angel on Br
Landing
Hobbs Boatyard
Hobbs Slipway
MARSH
Hennerton
Bolney
Wargrave
Shiplake Rb
R.Loddon
SHIPLAKE
Sonning Br
SONNING
Dreadnought
K&A Canal
CAVERSHAM
Reading Br
Caversham Br
Reading Slip
Purley
MAPLEDURHAM
Hardwick Ho
Whitchurch Br
WHITCHURCH
Hartswood Reach
Gatehampton Rb
Goring Gap
Goring Br
GORING
Swan
CLEEVE
Moulsford
Moulsford Rb
Papist Way Slip
Winterbrook Br
Wallingford Br
BENSON
Shillingford Br
R.Thame
DAYS
Burcot
Clifton Hampden
Clifton Church
Clifton H Br
Barley Mow
Long Wittenham
CLIFTON
Appleford Rb
Sutton Courtenay
Sutton Br
CULHAM
Culham Cut Fb
Abingdon Slip
Abingdon
Abingdon Br
ABINGDON
Nuneham Rb
Nuneham
Nuneham Park
Radley Boats
SANDFORD
Rose Island
Kennington Rb
Isis Br
Iffley Mill
IFFLEY
Oxford Rowing
Isis
Donnington Br
Riverside Slip
Boathouses
Punting
Lower Cherwell
Upper Cherwell
Islip
Head of River
Salters Steamers
Folly Br
Bacons Folly
Oxford Fb
Osney Fb
Weir stream
Osney Rb
Bullstake Stream
Osney Marina
OSNEY
Osney Br
Four Rivers
OLD RIVER
CANAL
Medley Weir Site
Medley Fb
Bossoms
Perch
Trout
GODSTOW
Godstow Nunnery
Godstow Br
Thames Br
KINGS
River Evenlode
EYNSHAM
Swinford Br
Oxford Cruisers
PINKHILL
Farmoor
Stanton Harcourt
Bablock Slip
Arks Weir Site
NORTHMOOR
Harts Fb
Rose Revived
Newbridge
Maybush
River Windrush
below Shifford
SHIFFORD
Shifford Fb
Tenfoot Fb
Trout Inn
Tadpole Br
RUSHEY
Old Mans Fb
RADCOT
Radcot Cradle Fb
Swan Inn
Radcot New Br
Radcot Old Br
GRAFTON
Eaton Hastings
Kelmscott
Eaton Fb
BUSCOT
Bloomers Hole Fb
Trout Inn
St Johns Br
ST JOHNS
Halfpenny Br
Marina Slip
LIMIT
Inglesham
Hannington Br
Kempsford
Castle Eaton Br
Marston Meysey
A419 Br
Cricklade
SOURCE?
THAMES HEAD
SEVEN SPRINGS