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Vou TX. No. 39.
NEW HAVEN, CONN., JULY, 1900.
Copyright, 1900,
by Yale Alumni Weekly.
Prick 25 Cents.
YA CREW'S VICTORY.
A Remarkable Contest—Yale’s Form
and Strength Perfect—Hard-
ing’s Killing Effort.
Things looked very black for Yale at
New London, Thursday, June 28, when
the first two races of the annual re-
gatta with Harvard had gone against
her, and even the most hopeful ones
down stream began to shake their heads
doubtfully. “It’s one, two, three, last
year over again,” said the pessimist and
most people agreed with him. But the
doubting ones might have caught a ray
of hope had they been within half a
mile of Broadview when the referee’s
boat Nushka ran up to the quarters
at half past one o'clock and sang out
that the race would be rowed immedi-
ately. With a yell of joy that: the
chance had come to even up the score,
the Crew, which had been anxiously
waiting in the little lookout on Captain
Brown’s lawn, broke pell-mell for the
boat house, running down the steep
bank. and leaping whatever obstacles
were in the way at the risk of sprained
or broken ankles, in their eagerness to
get in the battle. Five minutes later the
shell was launched and moving towards
the starting line in fast spurts.
Those who witnessed the incident
took new hope and knew then that the
struggle would be fought out to the very
end, as far as Yale’s part of it was con-
cerned, with no thought of possible de-
feat till the last stroke was pulled under
the shadow of the bridge. And the
struggle which followed was a fight to
the end, which, though unexpected and
dramatic, has given Yale men cause to
rejoice. “Strike your maximum gait for
four miles. Hold it without spurts. Be
dead at the bridge and not before.”
These were the parting instructions of
Coach Gallaudet, and Stroke Cameron
began, after the rush of start, to measure
off the brawn and muscle of the boat,
with a stroke of 32 to the minute, as
steady as the swinging of a pendulum.
Harvard tried to hold with 33 and even
34, but in vain. Her new stroke, Hard-
ing, finding the relentless sweep of that
32 stride stealing away from him, be-
gan a spurt which lasted from the second
to the third mile flag and beyond it, and
which has probably never been surpassed
since boating began at New London.
HARDING ROWED HIMSELF INSENSIBLE.
The result is history. He overhauled
the Yale boat, yes, and passed it too, but
to do it he rowed himself into insensi-
bility and the men behind him almost to
a standstill. Only the most magnificent
courage of Sheafe, at 7, kept the race
from ending then and there as far as
Harvard was concerned. He pulled his
men together, when it seemed almost
impossible that they could finish, and
with No. 8’s oar dragging like the wing
of a wounded bird, and No. 8 himself
helpless and swaying on his slide or rest-
ing in the coxswain’s arms, pulled across
the line 25 seconds or about eight lengths
in the rear. The wonder is that it was
not twice or three times as bad. :
he most important fact of the race is
this—that Yale did not change her stroke
from the start to the point where she
was for the second time leading Harvard
—namely at three and one-half miles.
That she could row the race she did at
an even thirty-two swing, and force
Harvard to the race which her crew
Towed, seems to establish the fact over
and above all considerations of accidents
and changes, that Yale’s maximum gait
YALE UNIVERSITY CREW AND SUBSTITUTES.
Cameron.
Wickes.
Niedecken. Auchincloss.
Blagden (capt. 1901) Allen (capt. 1900) Chittenden (cox)
Williams.
Hooker.
Armstrong (cox).
Mitchell.
Brock.
Cross. Lincoln.
Photo by Pach.
Kunzig.
for four miles was faster than Harvard’s
maximum gait for four miles. With
their cool and resourceful captain at
stroke, Harvard would probably not
have made that killing spurt. But with-
out it, Yale was a safe winner. Hard-
ing was a regular member of the Har-
vard Crew, and Harding was only one
of a number of men for whom that pace
was much more. than enough.
THE RACE IN DETAIL.
The Four and Freshman races had
been rowed between half past 11 and
half past 12 o'clock on an ebb tide which
a southwest wind had knocked into
most uncomfortable water for such light
crafts. Every minute the strength of the
wind was increasing, piling the river into
whitecaps. The observation train had
run to the start for the University race,
but no one expected a race at that time.
As the crowds waited patiently for the
announcement of a postponement a big
black cloud gathered in the north and
soon overspread all that part of the sky.
Many feared a repetition of the heavy
shower of race day in 1898, when every-
one was drenched and the races twice
postponed, but it proved to be a bless-
ing. As the cloud mounted higher and
moved into the northeast, the southwest
wind faded and then with a sudden snap
the big blue banner at Broadview came
round and pointed down stream. The
wind had changed and was blowing
strongly in puffs straight down the
course, so that in five minutes the
rumpled back of the Thames was
smoothed out and the conditions changed
from impossible to fast.
‘the flash of Mr.
The referee’s boat brought both shells
to the start at a quarter of two o'clock,
and five minutes later they were off to
Meikleham’s pistol.
Harvard’s lightning-like catch of the
water was seen for the third time that
day, but it was met now by one nearly
as good. However, it was Harvard’s
advantage and she had, perhaps, a lead
of 10 or 15 feet at the quarter. After
the first dozen strokes Yale lengthened
into a long 32, while Harvard kept at
it with 34 to hold her place. The
official time for the half says Yale 2
minutes 33% seconds, Harvard 2 minutes
32 seconds. To the mile it was so close
a race that the shells seemed to be
harnessed together, but Yale was holding
to her clock-like 32, while Harvard with
33 was losing ground, foot by foot.
Both boats crossed the mile at 5 minutes
10 seconds flat. From here to the mile
and a half Yale made her greatest ad-
vance, being at the latter point~’three
seconds to the good—in 7 minutes 54
seconds. Harvard’s time was 7 minutes
57 seconds. Still no open water, and
Harvard was hanging on _ tenaciously
waiting for her chance. But it looked
as though it would never come, for the
Yale boat was slipping along with ma-
chine-like precision, without apparent
strain or worry, with the blade, body and
slide work clean and as unhurried as
if the men were out for an afternoon
practice spin. .
THE HARVARD SPURT.
As the two mile flag came running up
to meet the racers Harding raised his
stroke to 34, and it was seen as the
Shells flashed past the mark, that he
had cut the lead down a trifle. The
official time here was Yale 10.31, Har-
vard 10.33. It was a trifling gain, but
it was a gain, and with this encourage-
ment before him he began driving his
crew for first place at the three miles.
First it was 34, but as there was no
relative change apparent at the two and
one-half flag it became 35 to the minute.
Now surely did his boat begin to creep
up, up and past Yale who varied not a
hair’s breadth from the swinging 32,
preferring to wait. The three mile flag
saw Harvard with three-quarters of a
length in front and amazement showed
itself on every face at Harvard’s superb
fight for the lead.
THE STROKE WAS TOO HIGH.
“We are beaten,”
Harvard oarsman,
Said. an “fold
On: a boat ‘fol-
lowing the crew, “flesh and blood can’t
stand such a, stroke and we must
keep it or lose.” Two minutes later Har-
vard’s stroke oar was seen to be in
trouble. His blade began to lag on the
catch and shoot high in the air on the
recovery. Another length and it missed
the water altogether, and the man who
had made one of the gamest struggles
ever seen in a race was a helpless pas-
senger. Twice he tried to unship the
oar, but he had not the strength, and his
body slumped down between his knees
and swayed dangerously at every stroke
of his mates. The Harvard launch ran
across to the shell at this moment and
gave some instructions presumably to
stop, but Sheafe at No. 7, the acting cap-
tain, shook his head, and, calling on
his men, who were for a brief space
