1880: The Grand was won by Leander Club in 7:03
The Diamonds was again won by J. Lowndes (Derby) in 9:10
1881: The Grand was won by London R.C. in 7:23
The Diamonds was again won by J. Lowndes (Derby) in 9:28
R C Lehmann in his book "The Complete Oarsman" writes of the Grand Challenge Cup in 1881 -
London Win the Grand Challenge Cup in 1881
Since 1877, when they had last won the Grand, London
had suffered a certain amount of eclipse.
Thames, Jesus (Cambridge), and Leander had won this great event in the
three following years.
In 1881 London flamed up again and
placed to their credit one of the most notable successes ever
achieved over the Henley course. They had lost nearly all
the great oars who had made them famous in the past.
F. S. Gulston, A. de L. Long, and S. le B. Smith were no longer
rowing for them, but they still retained the services of F. L.
Playford, nephew of that H. H. Playford who had stroked
their first winning crew in 1857.
F. L. Playford had won the Wingfield Sculls five times in succession, from 1875-1879,
when he had resigned. He had won the Diamonds in 1876,
had stroked the winning Grand crew in 1877, and the winning
Stewards' Fours in 1876-77-78. He was one of the most
magnificent oars ever seen in a boat, powerful in his work,
beautifully smooth in his style, and gifted with a wonderful
judgment both of pace and of opportunity in a race. He was
again stroke of the London Eight in 1881, with a crew of
comparative novices behind him. They had, however, worked
very hard, had been trained into the most perfect condition,
and were capable of rowing a very fast stroke with complete
ease to themselves.
The entry for the Grand in this year was of very high
quality. Leander, who had won in the previous year, were
again represented by a very powerful crew of six Oxonians
and two Cantabs, with L. R. West at stroke and T. C. Edwards-
Moss at No. 7. Hertford College had brought their Head of
the River crew from Oxford, with G. Q. Roberts, E. Buck,
D. E. Brown, Jefferson Lowndes, and G. S. Fort included in
it, a very strong combination for a College crew.
In the final heat of the Grand these three crews were left
to compete against one another. Hertford had the Berks,
station, Leander the centre, and London the Bucks. London
were reputed to be the fastest of the three, but very few
supposed that, with the handicap of the station against them,
they could possibly win the race. All three started at a great
pace, and it was soon seen that Leander, at any rate, were
faster than Hertford. They led out, and as they neared the
White House they were able to come over and take the inside
water ahead of Hertford They now had the full advantage
of the comer to the finish, and it seemed as if nothing could
prevent them from winning.
London, however, made a
splendid effort. They picked the stroke up and came sailing
round from their outside station as if they had a gale of wind
behind them. Steadily they drew ahead of Leander, whose
condition was not all that it ought to have been.
The rowing of Edwards-Moss at this moment was magnificent, but Play-
ford in the London crew was not to be denied. His boat had
the longer distance to travel, but she was now moving much
faster. In less than half a minute he had drawn his men well
ahead, and with a final spurt, admirably taken up, he landed
them winners by a bare length.
1881: George Leslie in his book "
Our River " (link to full text and drawings)
has a description of the Henley Regatta in his day.
Some people would say little has changed -
all the elements of the modern regatta are there - the major changes are:
that the course is now boomed for reasons that were quite apparent in Leslie's day;
the Old Course (1839-1889) ran
from the Berkshire side of the top of Temple Island to near Henley Bridge.
Without booms it must have produced
drama, not to say chaos, near the finish.
The New Course was used from 1886
onwards (and straightened in 1924).
It was moved downstream with the start on the Buckinghamshire
side just below Temple Island (ie the other side of Temple island from the modern start)
and the finish not nearly so close to Henley Bridge.
This is fairer to the competitors -
At the same time the number of
competitors in each race was reduced to two;
more entrants to each competition
mean that the regatta has expanded from two days to five;
the description of the races,
particularly the sculling, makes one realise that the Victorian oarsmen
were not quite athletes in the modern sense - more heroic maybe - but less
well trained;
[ This is where all our modern problems with drawing the line at drugs in sport spring from -
The in the earliest years (say 1820-40) the original competition was between gentlemen who had no idea of preparing for the race.
But then a sneaky idea occurred to some -
There was a legal way to obtain an advantage over other competitors - you could "train"
and get away with it! Initially it was thought to be a little underhand;
it was the sort of thing lower class paid boatmen might do -
but gentlemen were amateurs and gentlemen would not stoop so low.
But by the time of Argonaut's "Rowing and Training" 1866 very definite (alarmingly so!) ideas of training had been imported from Prize Fighting
and Racehorse training. The advantage
obtained was so overwhelming that it began to spread. Indeed that spread has now almost reached
some Oxbridge College boatclubs! [Tongue firmly in cheek!]
In both Oxford and Cambridge the river battle between "the Gentlemen" and
the "athletes" has been long drawn out - and the inevitable triumph of the "athletes" is not
necessarily all for the best for your average enthusiastic but not particularly high achieving
club oarsperson.
But how does this relate to drugs? - well if tactics, even devious tactics such as "training" can
be employed - then how is the line to be drawn
against other forms of winning stategies? It is important that it is - everyone with sense knows that - but on what basis? ]
there are less spectators on
manually propelled boats, but there have been quite enough on mechanically
propelled boats to produce river traffic jams at modern regattas.
Enormous crowds now come by car and train.
TO MOST
people of the present day, the name of Henley
is familiar, chiefly in connection with the annual Regattas.
These
boat-races have to my mind one charm which does not appertain to horse racing;
it is the feeling of certainty that the contests are genuine, the class to
which the competitors belong, guaranteeing the entire absence of complicity or
underhand knavery. The Henley Regattas more
closely resemble than anything else in modern times, the old Olympian and
Isthmian games of the classic ages, or the jousts and tournaments of the days
of chivalry. The very pick of the best-bred young men in England here
manfully compete over a mile and a quarter, for the coveted and honourable
prize. The spectators are more select and respectable than those who frequent
the turf. At Henley there is no betting ring,
no book-makers with their depraved features and yelling noise; ladies and
gentlemen are the rule there, and not the exceptions. The young athletes strive
before their friends’, relations’, or it may be their sweethearts’ eyes; their
college chums or boating friends rush along the bank, and cheer and urge them
on. Glory and honour are there the well-merited prizes for pluck and endurance.
There is such a genuine ring in the cheers which greet the visitors, that one
is not astonished to find that it has reached across the Atlantic, finding in
the hearts that dwell in the Far West an echo, which more than once has stirred
them up to cross the ocean, to contest the prize with their English cousins. …
Much as
the railway been abused for spoiling the country, in this case I am sure it has
to be thanked for the orderliness and refinement which it brought to the river
side, rendering Henley on Regatta day a place of all others at which ladies may
safely appear, and adorn the gay scene with their fair faces and pretty
toilets.
The week
before the races begin, Henley seems to wake up from its usual apathy; along
the high roads boats on carts are seen continually arriving; various crews take
up their quarters about the town, their respective flags hanging out from the
upper windows.
On the
bridge from morn till night a constant string of idlers and rowing men of the
Grand Stand are brought out and solemnly fixed in their places. There is
nothing very grand about this stand, for it is not unlike a large, broad,
“Punch and Judy” box.
On the
day before the race, the scene becomes still more animated; a line of empty
carriages is formed across the bridge on the side overlooking the course; a few
gipsies, with Aunt Sallies and knock-em-downs, come wandering up, whilst boats
and boatmen from all parts of the river, gradually fill every available landing-place
along the quays between the bridge and the railway-station Wherever camping is
allowed, small tents are seen, with their picturesque inhabitants busy in
cooking, and making themselves at home. Great house-boats and steam
launches, one after another, are taking up their positions along the appointed
line, which, gay with bunting, already stretches down towards Phillis Court.
There are also numbers of small boats and punts with awnings rigged up in them,
beneath which parties of two or three make themselves independent of lodgings
in the town. The occupants of these boats, and the campers generally, affect
picturesque and rather outlandish costumes. Frequently at this time, two or
three of them are met with, on foraging expeditions up the town, carrying great
stone jugs for beer, or baskets of potatoes and meat.
The
bathing-place in the morning is crowded, and, indeed, the variety of costumes
and characters that throng the towpath, the bridge, and the streets, are quite
peculiar to Henley at Regatta time.
Early in
the morning of the first day’s racing, the bells of the old church ring out in
the most cheering way; boats arrive in numbers from both up and down the river.
The very early trains bring down a large mixture of itinerant fruitsellers,
African Gentlemen [ not quite what Leslie wrote ], organ-grinders, boatmen,
and general riff-raff, along with some of
the more eager and interested of the spectators. The later trains are reserved
for the elite; at Paddington the crowd on the platform, for these trains, is
never a disagreeable or formidable one to mix in; the trains are well-managed,
run frequently, and if only the sun shines, all are smiling and happy. From the
windows of the train, as it passes over the bridge at Shiplake, you may catch
sight of numerous boat-loads, wending their way along down stream, and
sometimes of one of those huge barges from Reading, with crowds of people standing on
the deck.
[ See Marsh Lock for Leslie's account of Marsh Lock on Regatta day ]
… the lock below at Hambleden is also very
crowded on the mornings of the boat-races, but as it is entered against the
stream, getting in and out of it is a far less difficult matter.
Not the least of the pleasures of the Regatta
day, to a regular frequenter of the river, are the numerous nods and greetings
which are received from old river-side friends and acquaintances of every sort.
About ten o’clock a large waggonette, carrying the Eton boys, passes along,
the road in front of my mother’s cottage; they all look very serious, and as
old and manly as they possibly can. Racing ships and outriggers are now being
lifted about carefully down by the boat-houses; the various colours of the
different rowing-clubs assume large and distinct masses, as the birds of a
feather flock together, and form into knots of uniformity.
Mr. Lord, on a paddle-wheel steamer belonging to
the Thames Conservancy, is now seen busy in putting things to rights; seeing
that the various large craft are moored in their proper line, and sometimes
towing obstructive barges right up through the bridge, far off out of harm’s
way; indeed, throughout the day, Mr. Lord has a very hard time of it, and I
believe few are aware how much of the comfort and orderliness of the Regattas
are due to his skill, energy, and good temper.
The umpire’s boat is seen getting up steam - a
long, rakish-looking craft, with no cabins or railings about it; a boat of
reputed fabulous speed, since celebrated in connection with the sad disaster at
Shepperton.
The Umpire's Launches Leslie could be referring to are:
1877-1879: Three Des Vignes launches, used at each regatta and then sold.
1880: WRAITH, Des Vignes
[ The sad disaster was an accident in the dark when a Des Vignes launch struck a rowing boat at
Shepperton and Mrs Sarah Bollard was drowned. George Francis Gabriel Desvignes was charged with
'feloniously killing and slaying'. The verdict after a considerable amount of evidence was 'not guilty'.
The Old Bailey trial on 23rd November 1880 is
online The launch concerned was WOLVERINE which may have been used as a Royal Regatta Umpire's launch ]
Henley Royal Regatta in the 1880s
with the Umpire's Steam Launch Eupatira, built by Des Vignes.
The umpire’s boat is not popular with the floating spectators, partly on account of the rocking about they get from its swell, and partly on account of its taking, throughout the day, various parties of ladies and gentlemen as passengers. To this latter practice I most strongly object. I do not know whether any charge is made for the trip, but even if the passage is free, there is great want of taste about thus crowding a boat which at best, is only tolerated as a necessary evil, and in which none but the umpire and some Press representatives ought to be allowed to accompany the engine-driver and steerer.
[ I was a passenger in the Umpire’s Launch, following my old college to ignominious defeat at the hands of the Irish, early one Thursday morning in 1988? You are uniquely placed to see the Umpire’s back and an occasional oar tip. Vociferous supporting is not encouraged. But I’m glad I did it once. ]
The river gradually gets covered with boats in every direction. Train after train arrives, and happy crowds come streaming along in front of River Terrace down to the boats, or off in search of the friends they expect to meet. Fortunate are those who find their boats or friends safely at the appointed place, and many are the anxious people seen searching in vain, surrounded and harassed by the speculative boatmen who have brought up for the occasion every sort of thing with oars that will float, which are to be hired for fabulous sums.
Henley Regatta, 1912, Postcard
The crowd about the “Lion” and on the bridge now gets very dense. Boats on the water are scattered about in apparently hopeless confusion, and presently the crew of an eight is seen to embark for the first heat of the Grand Challenge. They are slowly turned above the bridge, and paddling down through the arches they pass on, picking their way along the course, with frequent stops, to the starting point. They are very quickly followed by their antagonists, and the umpire’s boat with warning whistle steams slowly down to the island; but still the crowd of floating spectators seems in hopeless confusion. The Conservancy men, with red flags in their boats, go to work in earnest, whilst gradually the floating masses sort themselves together, and to range alongside of the moored house-boats and launches.
Towing Guard Boats up Henley Reach
Still, as each train arrives, or as a fresh batch of boats escapes through Marsh Lock, more
and more happy boatfuls come straggling down on to the course, when bang goes
the gun for the start, and with redoubled energy the Conservancy men row up the
stream, clearing the water as they go, and gradually driving, like sheep dogs,
the straying herds of boats towards the Oxford shore.
Nothing much is seen of the two eights at first;
the umpire’s steamer and the thick bunch of runners along the tow-path alone
indicate their whereabouts. But in the meantime all sorts of opinions are
freely given as to the probable results of the race; how it is a certainty for
one on account of the station, or else that the shelter of the willows which
favours the Bucks side, will more than compensate for the advantages of the
other shore, and in consequence we shall see a “rattling good race.”
Those of the spectators who have field-glasses
begin very soon to declare which boat is leading, but much reliance can seldom
be placed on these remarks, as it is impossible with three-quarters of a mile
of foreshortening perspective, to judge correctly of a few yards’ lead. It is
not long, however, before the shouts from the runners on the banks grow more
and more audible, and are taken up by the spectators in the boats on the other
side; in a few seconds more two long lines of straining bodies dart past, the
boats themselves seeming to lift and bound at each stroke in regular cadence.
The race is generally pretty well decided as Phillis Court is
passed, as anything like a lead here is seldom again lost. Amidst the roar of
cheers and the swell from the umpire’s boat the sound of the band is heard
playing the well-known air, and the first heat is lost and won.
Directly the racing boats have passed, the course
is rapidly covered again by boats of every description: there are gigs, skiffs,
wherries, stout oak sailing-boats, canoes and punts; there are boats manned or
“girled” by fancy crews, sometimes consisting of four pretty little girls in
blue sailor dresses, or a set of boys, double-banked, in man-of-war costume.
Fashion in the matter of hats alters every year; at the last Regatta
Basque bonnets of every colour were much in vogue. There was also a sort of
gondola, with a real Italian in sailor costume, who managed his oar
beautifully, and kept the boat going gracefully amongst the crowd.
Gondola at Henley Regatta, Henry Taunt -
Gondola at Henley Regatta, Henry Taunt, 1890
© Oxfordshire County Council Photographic Archive; HT12945
[ There has always been at least one gondola spectating at recent regattas. ]
Gondola by Phyllis Court at Henley Royal Regatta, 2003]
City Barge, Oxford
specialise in Venetian Rowing.
George Leslie continues -
A large family boat, with Paterfamilias and
hampers in the stern, and young Hopeful in the bows with a hitcher, generally
forms the centre of one of the tangled floating clusters which are perpetually
seen throughout the day. On every side the cry is “Look ahead, sir.” Speed of
any sort is quite impossible, and the perpetual shipping and unshipping of oars
must be very irksome and aggravating.
Here my dear old punt comes out finely; she can
be gently poled along either backwards or forwards, standing at the head or
stern, Oxford fashion
[ i.e. not "Run" as was Leslie's normal style, but "pricked" from a
stationary position ]
and thus steered with the minutest accuracy:
if you wish to pass quickly up or down the course it is best to slip
between the line of moored launches, as behind them the water is comparatively
clear from obstructives.
People in rowing boats, as a rule, are rather
inclined to take affront at being passed by a punt, whilst they themselves are
drifting helplessly with unshipped oars; but if you are careful not to bump
them, they can do little but scowl at you as you pass. Some allowance, too,
must be made for their feelings, as the perpetual fouling they encounter,
cannot fail to affect the tempers of even the most amiable. Later on in the
day, when they have become more accustomed to the process, and have had their
luncheons, they get more disposed to take the little annoyances with good
nature.
Many floating parties take up permanent stations
alongside a friendly house-boat or launch, and great numbers find their way
down to the willow-fringed meadows of Fawley, where, if the day is fine, at two
o’clock may be seen one long string of confluent picnics, a little harassed by
the haymakers, photographers, gipsies, &c., but otherwise as happy and
lively as possible. Hospitality is so great on these days, that with me the
only difficulty is to avoid the certain after-headache which results from
partaking too frequently or too freely
of the cups and drinks of all sorts which are offered you by everyone.
House-boats are particularly convenient at the Regatta; they accommodate a
large party, and afford a sense of security from the rain, which on one of the
days is a well-known proverbial certainty. No place can be better than the roof
of a house-boat for seeing the racing from, and with a good lunch below, a
pleasant party, and a boat or two in which to move about occasionally, in my
opinion the houseboat affords quite the best means of enjoying the day to
perfection. A steam-launch is not quite as convenient, but of course it has the
advantage of being able to move off and return home quickly in the evening. I
do not object to plenty of these launches at the Regatta, as they are not then
either smoking or raising swell. Their size and variety in the long line of
moored craft form, too, a very important feature in the composition of the
whole scene from an artistic point of view.
… Lunch being over, people resume their
programmes, and the races are again regarded with interest-the heats for the
diamond sculls, in which there is generally rather more personal interest felt
attracting great attention. The speed in these contests seems of course
comparatively slow after the eights and fours, the competitors usually
straggling up one after another in rather erratic courses, the men by the time
the dreaded poplar corner is reached often appearing much exhausted. The whole
way along they are shouted at, and cheered on, in a much more personal fashion
than in the other races; each is addressed by name, and every variety of advice
and encouragement is bestowed on them by their respective friends and admirers.
By 3 o’clock in the afternoon the crowd on the water is at its extreme height;
…
If tired of stopping in one place, it is amusing
at times to punt up to the bridge to see the crowds, to hear the band play, and
view the Grand Stand with its patient occupants seated in demure rows. At one
corner of the Stand, on a red cloth, are displayed the large silver goblets and
cups which are distributed to the victors at the close of the second day.
Henley Regatta, Walter Field
It is next to impossible to distinguish a friend
on the shore when you yourself are afloat, and I am constantly being told after
the Regatta that I was seen and hailed by friends on the bank of whose presence
I was utterly unaware; it is, therefore, as well now and then to land and go a
little around among the carriages on the bridge, by the Stand, or down the
tow-path. This latter place is never pleasant to me on account of the smell of
the turf, especially if it has rained at all;
grass under a crowd on a hot damp day gives out an odour which mixes
very unpleasantly with the various smells of the crowd itself, and which seems
to haunt your nose for a day or two after.…
In consequence of the great number of trial
heats, the racing on the first day is seldom over till late in the evening;
some time however before the last one or two heats, people from town begin to
leave the river, and there is a pretty steady stream to the railway going on
all the time, from five till eight or nine o’clock. The town on the evening of
the first day is quiet enough, at least as far as the rowing men are concerned,
as they are mostly in strict training, and have to keep quiet for the second
and final struggles. The course looks very pretty in the summer twilight; the
glimmering lights along the line of moored launches, and boat sleeping parties,
together with the broken line of the houses of the old town, the church tower,
the bridge, and the trees at Phillis Court, giving the river a wonderfully
romantic and beautiful appearance. The
town soon quiets down for the night’s rest,
and stirs itself betimes in the
morning for the final races. The crews go off along the tow-path in batches for
their morning’s swim, and with towels in their hands, are seen returning ready
for their breakfasts. As the programme for the second day has much fewer events
on it to be decided, the races do not generally commence till one o’clock.
[ Why didn't Jerome use this material in Three Men in a Boat?
He had clearly (from other evidence) read George Leslie's book.
In his "Three Men in a Boat" He had set up for it. Downstream he says it is nearing
Henley week - and then suddenly from Hambleden there
is no mention of Henley and we find ourselves
at Hennerton Backwater.
Maybe time ran out - or maybe he was
a little disconcerted by the humour in Leslie's description - who knows?
The comedian needs the straight man to feed
him without the least hint of humour - and Leslie has that hint -
"On the bridge from morn till night a constant string of idlers and rowing men of the Grand Stand are brought out and solemnly fixed in their places. There is nothing very grand about this stand, for it is not unlike a large, broad, “Punch and Judy” box."
What Jerome could have done with that!
Or - maybe he
saw there was a whole book here - but then did not get round to writing it? ]
1882: The Grand was won by Exeter College, Oxford in 8:11
The Diamonds was again won by J. Lowndes (Derby) in 11:43
1883: The Grand was won by London R.C. in 7:51
The Diamonds was again won by J. Lowndes (Twickenham R.C.) in 10:02
1884: The Stewards constitution was re-established
The Grand was won by London R.C. in 7:27
The Diamonds was won by W.S. Unwin (Magdalen College, Oxford) in 9:44
1885: The Grand was won by Jesus College, Cambridge in 7:22
The Diamonds was again won by W.S. Unwin (Magdalen College, Oxford) in 9:22
Dickens's Dictionary of the Thames, 1885, showed the old course starting above Temple Island
and finishing only a yard or two short of Henley Bridge -
Henley Royal Regatta Course in 1885
This, the most important gathering of amateur oarsmen in England, takes place usually about the beginning
of July, and almost ranks with Ascot among the favourite fashionable meetings of the season.
A grand stand is provided, but the accommodation for visitors is not of the best.
One of the favourite points of view is the "Red Lion" lawn, where, at the conclusion of the regatta
on the second day, the prizes are distributed, but by far the most popular resort is the river itself.
Indeed, of late years, this has become so much the case, and the river is so inconveniently crowded
with steam launches, house boats, skiffs, gigs, punts, dingeys(sic), canoes, and every other conceivable
and inconceivable variety of craft, that the racing boats have sometimes the greatest difficulty in
threading a way through the crowd.
In this connection some astonishment may be expressed at the supineness of the executive, in regard to
the important matter of regulating this annually increasing picnic traffic. As it was years ago, so it seems
to be now. The racing boats are always hampered to a more or less inconvenient degree -
sometimes even to the point of disaster. No doubt it is extremely difficult to keep the course clear,
but certainly much more might be done than at present.
As in the case with all boat races, only a very small part of the struggle can properly be seen,
except by the fortunate few in the umpire's boat, or by the enthusiastic friends of the competitors
who run up the tow path with the boats.
[ Both at Oxford Bumps and Henley Regatta spectators used to run with the boats - boat speeds have increased now to the point at which it would take an Olympic standard runner to stay with the fastest races. The Grand Challenge Cup record time implies an average over the ground speed of about 13.2 miles per hour. (1 mile 550 yards in 5 minutes 58 seconds) There is always some current to add to this, though of course there could have been a following wind. ]
The course is a little over a mile and a quarter in length, and the races are rowed from [above] Regatta Island
[ Temple Island ], just below Remenham, against the stream, to a point opposite the "Red Lion",
and just below the bridge.
For the first mile the course is very fair, but the river taking a somewhat sharp turn at what is called
Poplar Point [the modern finish], gives a great advantage to the boat with the inside or Berks station.
The only chance of equalising the stations is when a very high wind blows from the other bank.
Under these circumstances men on the Bucks station have the advantage of being sheltered by the bushes,
while their opponents out in the open are struggling with the full force of wind and wave. The lead the Bucks
boat is thus enabled to obtain, not infrequently neutralises the effect of the dreaded corner.
Many attempts have been made to improve matters by buoying and by staking out the river with the object
of keeping the Berks boat well out in the stream, but hitherto these ingenious arrangements have met
with but a very moderate means of success.
It has even been suggested that the race should be started below the island, and that the finish
should be at Poplar Point. But as this would disestablish the bridge and the lawn, its adoption is,
to say the least of it, doubtful.
[ The new Stewards however, took their courage in both hands
and indeed disestablished the bridge and the lawn.
Without a fair course the modern regatta could not continue to have the success that it does.
But to see what they were tackling see the verse below about the view from the bridge
(written as it happens in the very year
in which it all changed) ]
1886: The Grand was won by Trinity Hall, Cambridge in 6:53˝
The Diamonds was won by F.I. Pitman (Third Trinity B.C., Cambridge) in 9:05
1886: 'Henley In July', Joseph Ashby-Sterry
Listen to 'Henley In July' -
O, COME down to Henley, for London is horrid;
There’s no peace or quiet to sunset from dawn.
The Row is a bore, and the Park is too torrid,
So come down and lounge on the “Red Lion” Lawn !
Then, come down to Henley,
no time like the present,
The sunshine is bright, the barometer’s high –
O, come down at once, for Regatta-time’s pleasant,
Thrice pleasant is Henley in laughing July !
Now, gay are the gardens of Fawley and Phyllis,
The Bolney backwaters are shaded from heat;
The rustle of poplars on Remenham Hill is,
Mid breezes ćstival, enchantingly sweet !
When hay-scented meadows with oarsmen are crowded –
Whose bright tinted blazers gay toilettes outvie –
When sunshine is hot and the sky is unclouded,
O, Henley is splendid in lovely July !
Ah me ! what a revel of exquisite colours,
What costumes in pink and in white and in blue,
By smart canoistes and pretty girl-scullers,
Are sported in randan, in skiff, and canoe !
What sun-shaded lasses we see out a-punting,
What fair gondolieres perchance we espy.
And house-boats and launches all blossom and bunting –
O, Henley’s a picture in merry July !
If it rains, as it may, in this climate capricious,
And Beauty is shod in the gruesome galosh;
While each dainty head-dress and toilette delicious
Is shrouded from view in the grim mackintosh !
We’ll flee to the cheery “Athena” for shelter –
The pâté is perfect, the Giesler is dry –
And think while we gaze, undismayed at the “pelter”,
That Henley is joyous in dripping July !
The ancient grey bridge is delightful to moon on,
For ne’er such a spot for the mooner was made;
He’ll spend, to advantage, a whole afternoon on
Its footway, and loll on its quaint balustrade !
For this of all others, the best is of places
To watch the brown rowers pull pantingly by,
To witness the splendour, the shouting, the races,
At Henley Regatta in charming July !
When athletes are weary and hushed is the riot,
When launches have vanished and house-boats are gone,
When Henley once more is delightfully quiet –
‘Tis soothing to muse on the “Red Lion” Lawn !
When the swans hold their own and the sedges scarce shiver –
As sweet summer breezes most tunefully sigh –
Let us laze at the ruddy-faced Inn by the River,
For Henley is restful in dreamy July !
1886: The course was changed to finish at Poplar Point (the modern
finish) with a staggered start below Temple Island.
The Field wrote -
The new course, as compared with the old one, will best
be understood by reference to the map of the reach, which
appears elsewhere.
The change has had only two trials, those
of 1886 and 1887, but it may be said that so far rowing clubs
which frequent Henley are unanimous in approving of the
alteration; and so are all retired oarsmen, whose personal
experience of the regatta was under the old regime.
The old course was very one-sided. In the middle third of a
mile - on a stormy day - with a stiff wind from W. or S.W., the
shelter of the Bucks bushes - especially before house-boats and
steam launches multiplied and monopolised the frontage of the
Bucks and Oxon shores - used to reverse entirely the advantage
otherwise pertaining to the Berks stations. On such a day the
Berks station placed most boats hopelessly out of the race,
unless they could keep within a length of the Bucks boat till
the 'point' was reached - in which case the poplar corner made
a pretty counterpoise to the advantage of Bucks shelter, and
caused some interesting finishes.
Under the new regime not more than two boats can row in one heat; and as the course is
now staked out, and neither competitor can hug the bank, the
difference between windward and leeward stations, even when
hereafter a gale shall blow, will no longer be so glaring as of
old.
The Regatta was extended to three days.
The number competing in each race was reduced from three to two.
1887: The Grand was won by Trinity Hall, Cambridge in 6:56
The Diamonds was won by J.C. Gardner (Emmanuel College, Cambridge) in 8:51
The Prince and Princess of Wales at Henley Royal Regatta, 1887. The Graphic
R C Lehmann writes of 1887 -
The year 1887, indeed, was a memorable one for Cambridge
rowing, and particularly for Trinity Hall. ...
They sent two complete eights to Henley. One
for the Grand, and the other for the Ladies' Plate and Thames
Cup. They also entered a four for the Stewards' and the
Visitors'.
The racing for the Grand was close and desperate,
for the Oxford Etonians and the Thames Rowing Club had
both sent first-rate crews. Trinity Hall won the final, after a
very hard race with Thames.
Their second eight won the Ladies' and the Thames.
Their fours won the Stewards' and the Visitors'.
Thus they had all the three races for eights, and the two principal races for fours to their credit.
The three remaining races, too, all fell to Cambridge men.
Pembroke College won the Wyfolds; C. T. Barclay and
S, D. Muttleby, of Third Trinity, carried off the Goblets in
record time (8 min. 15 sec.) and J. C. Gardner, of Emmanuel
College won the Diamonds. Cambridge oarsmen, therefore,
swept the board, a feat which may possibly be equalled, but
can never be surpassed
1888: The Grand was won by Thames R.C. in 7:01
The Diamonds was won by G. Nickalls (Magdalen College, Oxford) in 8:36
1889: The Grand was won by Thames R.C. in 7:40˝ ?
The Diamonds was again won by G. Nickalls (Magdalen College, Oxford) in 8:56
1889: Punch -
Henley Aquatic Carnival, Punch, 1889