text:
The Rowers of Vanity Fair/Waddington WH

“France at the Congress” (T.), September 28, 1878
''Not very long ago an Englishman settled himself in France with a view to trade. M. Waddington is one of the descendants of this emigrant. He was educated in England, has English notions and an English aspect, but he entirely declines to be considered English, and glories in the name of Frenchman. Born two-and-fifty years ago, he has devoted a great part of his life and abilities to the study of old coins and of ancient history, for the sake of which he made a voyage into Greece and Asia Minor. He has also taken a considerable part in politics, and when a National Assembly was hastily called together in 1871 in order to raise the ransom and get rid of the Germans, he was elected for the Aisne. He adopted himself into the Right Centre, gained much confidence from many men, and at length, partly by merit and partly by accident, became the Minister for Foreign Affairs of the French Republic. He is an excellent man of business and a steady politician, and being somewhat tiresome and professorial in his utterances, he is held to be one of the few statesmen who are to be trusted. He represented France at the Congress of Berlin.''

William Henry Waddington (1826-94) went to school at Dr. Arnold’s Rugby, and then to Trinity College, Cambridge, where he rowed for Second Trinity in the Grand, Ladies’, Stewards’, and Visitors’ in 1849. Waddington also rowed No. 6 in the first of the two 1849 Boat Races, the only year in which the race occurred twice, in a Cambridge crew consisting entirely of Trinity men.

After university Waddington returned to France to become a naturalized citizen like his father, spending the 1850s as an archaeologist specializing in Asia Minor. In the 1860s he turned to politics and, after two unsuccessful attempts for the chamber of deputies, was elected in 1871, then to the senate in 1876, and became Minister of Foreign Affairs in 1877. His performance from that last position, at the Congress of Berlin in 1878, was rewarded with the appearance in Vanity Fair.

In 1879, newly-elected President Jules Grévy chose Waddington to become Premier, not for his success at Berlin but because the alternative, Léon Gambetta, posed too much a political threat. Waddington took the job but retained his Foreign Affairs post, focusing his efforts on Egypt and the Balkans. He was forced to resign in December 1879 when Jules Ferry, a member of his cabinet, created sufficient controversy by introducing measures drastically to reduce the influence of the Catholic church on education. Waddington was ambassador to Great Britain from 1883 to 1893, and died in Paris on January 13, 1894, a week after losing his Senate seat in the election.

As a Rugby alumnus, Cambridge rowing blue, and senior French official, Waddington played a significant albeit indirect role in launching the modern Olympic games, first held in Athens in 1896. He knew Baron Pierre de Coubertin, who became the first President of the modern Olympics and is generally viewed as the father of the movement. Through him, Waddington encouraged French crews to enter the 1891 Henley Regatta. Waddington may also have caused de Coubertin’s visit to Rugby, feeding the notion of international exchange through sport. Thus one senses Waddington’s handiwork in the Baron’s maiden speech on point, at the November 25, 1892 meeting of the Athletic Sports Union at the Sorbonne: “Let us export oarsmen, runners, fencers; there is the free trade of the future -- and on the day when it shall take its place among the customs of Europe, the cause of peace will have received a new and powerful support.”

The Thames Conservancy
In the early days of the Boat Race, umpires did their duty from boats powered by watermen. With the advent of steamers, watermen were retired from service but river traffic multiplied, causing occasional interference. The Thames Conservancy, formed that year to address such problems as pollution, which by 1857 had made the metropolitan river “the largest navigable sewer in the world,” was given the further power in 1868 to clear the course for racing. As with most regulation, this made the situation both better and worse: better, because the Conservancy prevented steamers from washing the crews as happened to A.L. Smith in 1859; worse, because it did not always act in complete harmony with the wishes of the university boat clubs. W.B. Woodgate laid out his views in Vanity Fair (April 2, 1870):

''Whatever may have been in previous years the good offices of the Thames Conservancy in securing a free course for University boat-races, their good deeds are now more than nullified by the officious dictation of which they have this year been guilty toward the Presidents of the two U.B.C.’s. Taking advantage of their autocracy upon the Thames, they have not only put a restriction upon the steamers that limits them to a lower number than has ever been known and sanctioned at any previous Oxford and Cambridge race, but they have gone the length of ordering steamers at the expense of the Universities, at the very time that they dictate who shall and who shall not be allowed on board the same.''

''Steamers can never be said to benefit the rowing of a University boat per se. An umpire could be carried in a twelve-oar, or in a small steam-launch, such as the Ariel, thus avoiding all possibility of draw and “suck” from the paddles of accompanying passenger steamers. But the Universities have never grudged to their own members, who have an interest in, and who supply the funds for, the race, the privilege of accompanying the crews at a respectful distance; nor have they debarred the public from a similar enjoyment within due limits. It is for them to say how many steamers they wish to follow the race; and, so long as these steamers are compatible with safety, the Conservancy have no moral right to deny them. In the Harvard race there were only two steamers, because Harvardians in England were few, and it might have been said that a preponderance of Oxonians in extra steamers was unfair, and inflicting a “suck” upon both boats, for the accommodation of the friends of one side only.''

''But, that race being past and gone, there is no reason why the limit of steamers should not be, as in former years, subject to the approval of the Universities. If they do not object, it can matter little to the Conservancy, unless the latter plead that steamboats are reckless, and may collide and cause a catastrophe. There is some slight ground for this argument, for, though last year all steamers but one behaved themselves, there was one evildoer, and that one the steamer which conveyed the magnates themselves of the Conservancy, and who, not content with jostling the umpire against Barnes Bridge, to the alarm of the umpire’s cargo, steamed ahead of him, and shut him out of all view of the finale of the race.''

''However, allowing that the Conservancy are autocratic to decide in the question of safety, and to assume that other steamers will very probably behave as badly as they themselves did last year, at least it would seem fair that if steamers are to incommode the race, they should do so for the benefit only of those concerned in the match, and not for mere outsiders, who have no part nor interest in it or its result. But though there are some forty captains of college boat-clubs, and some two dozen resident oarsmen who have been tried for the very race in question, and who may be said more than any others to represent the interests of the rest of the Universities, they are one and all summarily ejected from the steamers by the Conservancy, and their places assigned to the public -- i.e., to their representatives, the Press.''

''The race is strictly a private one; it is only the public who choose to make it one of public interest, and often to create a nuisance by the extent of their unsolicited zeal. But though none would be more willing than the Presidents to offer, as a piece of courtesy, a certain proportionate share of the accommodation at their disposal to the press, that is no reason why they should be compelled, without choice in the matter, to receive any audience which the Conservancy choose to thrust upon them, to the exclusion of their own friends and allies, who help to pay the piper, but are not suffered to call the tune.''

Woodgate returned to the subject a week later (April 9, 1870), hoping to leverage widespread following of the Boat Race, with which he was never too comfortable, into a populist revolt against the Thames Conservancy:

''The Universities are chartered and reputed “seats of learning,” yet during the current term their main association, in the eyes of the British public, has been simply that of muscular Christianity. The University intelligence which has found most favour in the eyes of the country cousins, parents, and guardians, has been not the councils of the “Hebdomadal,” or resolutions of Convocation, but training reports from the banks of the Cam or Isis; and for one enthusiastic and right-minded reader who can tell the names of the Senior Wrangler or Ireland Scholar of the term, there are hundreds with whom the names Goldie and Darbishire have been household words.''

Like sheep to a gap, the British populace pours, in greater numbers year after year, to swelter on Hammersmith Bridge; to herd in masses on the tow path, regardless of the rising tide which threatens to infringe the rights of the Great Unwashed; or to pay ten shillings a-head for nose room and three minutes’ glimpse from a garret window at Chiswick or Barnes.

''And what they go out into the desert for to see, the wisest of them can hardly tell. Personal interest they have none, unless they have bets upon the race; personal comfort, under the circumstances just described, the most sanguine would hardly hope to find; even the picnic, which is the redeeming point of a Derby-day saturnalia, cannot well exist between Putney and Mortlake, from sheer want of elbow-room. However, they come, and they go, and they seem to enjoy themselves; and trade of all sorts, of rail, of road, of haberdashers, carpenters, et hoc genus omne, undoubtedly reaps the benefit of a private sport that national eccentricity has usurped almost as a public property; and the lesson to be read, therefore, is that if the public wish to continue to reap this benefit, and enjoy this festival as heretofore, they must raise their vox populii to support the Universities in enjoying in their turns their due rights, and in resisting the dictatorial and impertinent encroachments of the Thames Conservancy.''

Their conduct was fully dilated upon last week in our FAIR, and since it still remains in statu quo, or rather has now added the deed to previously announced will, there is no need to say more of them than that if they in their hypocrisy still profess goodwill towards University boat-racing, the University Boat Clubs may rightly pray to be saved from their friends.

title: The Rowers of Vanity Fair/Waddington WH


text:
The Rowers of Vanity Fair/Hornby JJ

“The Head” (Spy), January 31, 1901
''Third son of Admiral Sir Phipps Hornby and brother of the late Admiral Sir Geoffrey Hornby, he was born at Winwick four-and-seventy years ago; and he is still vigourous testimony to the wholesomeness of the English Public School. So well did Dr. Hawtrey lay in the foundation of his knowledge at Eton that he is now its Provost: after a course of Balliol, which made him a First Class-man. He played cricket and rowed in the ‘Varsity Eight with the late Lord Justice Chitty and with Bishop Patterson; and he is still a member of the Alpine Club. Having been elected a Fellow of B.N.C., he went to Durham as Principal of Bishop Cosin’s Hall: yet returned to B.N.C. to lecture the Classics into younger athletes; and was made Senior Proctor. Then he went to Winchester as Second Master; whence he was chosen Head Master of our biggest Public School just three-and-thirty years ago. Since then he has been improved into a Queen’s Chaplain, a Doctor of Civil Law, and (in the nature of things) into the Provost of Eton and Chairman of its Governing Body: whose health is so good as to preclude any idea of his retiring. Yet he is really a very retiring man who keeps himself very much to himself, although he has courteous manners and a charming smile.''

''He was always athletic, and even now he is an excellent dancer and a very fine skater, whose bag of skates is almost as well known as himself. He can preach an admirable sermon, and he is almost unrivalled in the art of after-dinner speaking: his oratory being no less witty than it is eloquent. He can also tell a good story; and it is told of himself that he has not unsympathetically urged a boy who was to undergo punishment to bear it. As a schoolmaster he was fortunate; for during his term of Head Mastership Eton flourished as exceedingly as even the inventor of its motto could have wished: the standard of work being higher than it had ever been before. Altogether he is identified with Eton as a good fellow no less than as a wholesome gentleman.''

He taught Eton the art of self-government.

John James Hornby (1826-1909), unlike most of the other thirty-one Etonian rowers of Vanity Fair, did not row at school; he was a cricketer. But he picked it up well on arrival at Balliol in 1845, for he rowed bow for Oxford in the second Boat Race of 1849 (which Oxford won on a foul by bumping Cambridge when Cambridge were in Oxford’s water), and was No. 3 in the O.U.B.C. crews that won the Grand in 1850 and 1851, there being no tideway Boat Race either year. In 1850, having become a Fellow of Brasenose, he won the University Pairs and Fours, and the Goblets (with J.W. Chitty) at Henley. In 1851 he rowed again for B.N.C. in the Ladies’, Stewards’, and Visitors’, and went Head of the River at Oxford in 1852.

Hornby might not have become headmaster of Eton in 1868, at age forty-one, but for the work of S.H. Northcote. In 1862, Northcote joined the royal commission on the administration of the public schools. On release of the commission report in 1864, Northcote argued that Parliament could deal not with studies or management, but with endowments, the constitution of governing bodies, and the removal of restrictions, among them the generations-old tradition that the Eton headmaster hale from King’s College, Cambridge. By 1868, that restriction was gone and the headmastership increased in independent authority, which Hornby was the first to exercise: hence he “taught Eton the art of self-government.”  He kept a progressive rather than radical hand on the reins, but did not shirk from corporal punishment. Guy Nickalls, at Eton in the early 1880s, recalled: “In spite of the swishings I got, I liked the headmaster, Hornby, the perfectly mannered and sonorously-voiced old English gentleman. Handsome, alert, witty, a great athlete in his day, a good judge of wine, and the finest after-dinner speaker I ever listened to, with a charm of manner I have never forgotten.”

Hornby retired to the dignified and less arduous post of provost in 1884, succeeded by the more famous Etonian and Balliol oarsman, Edmond Warre. It was a tip to Hornby’s former responsibilities that Vanity Fair capitioned his 1901 lithograph, “The Head.” He remained provost until his death in 1909, to be succeeded again by Warre.

The War of the Ribbons
As the first mass spectator sport, rowing became hard news. By the 1860s newspapers followed the crews for weeks before the race, and the public showed its enthusiasm by thronging the banks to watch their favorite crew in practice and wear its color ribbon. In some places, such as the unnamed school Ralph Dundas attended, the light blue and dark mixed badly, oil and vinegar, as he recalled for Vanity Fair (March 24, 1910):

''When I hear grown-up people discussing the University Boat Race I smile sadly and hold my peace. They may say what they like about the latest Oxford trial, or the average weight per man of the Cambridge crew, but deep in my heart there stays the conviction that they are making a ludicrous mistake in speaking about the Boat Race at all. Once I knew all about it, and even now I think I could put them right if I wished. But what is the use of arguing with persons who, under the absurd pretext of fairness, pretend to find praiseworthy features in both crews? Even the smallest boy knew better than that in the days when the Boat Race was really important. I will not say that there did not exist weaklings even then, who wobbled between Oxford and Cambridge in an endeavour to propitiate both factions. But they usually suffered the fate of wobblers by having to join one side or the other, while still incurring the scorn of both.''

''The Boat Race dawned upon us each year as a strange and bewildering element in our social relationships. We would part one night on normal terms, and the morrow would find us wearing strange favours, and regarding our friends of yesterday with open and passionate dislike. For the sake of a morsel of coloured ribbon old friendships would be shattered and brother would greet brother with ingenious expressions of contempt. There was no moderate course in the matter. A boy was either vehemently Cambridge or intolerably Oxford, and it would have been easier to account for the colour of his hair than to explain how he arrived at his choice of a University. Some blind instinct, some subtle influence felt, perhaps, in the dim far-off nursery days may have determined this weighty choice; but the whole problem was touched with the mystery that inspired the great classical and modern snowball fights, when little boys would pound each other almost into a state of unconsciousness for the sake of a theory of education. Our interest in the Boat Race as a boat race was small, and quite untroubled by any knowledge of the respective merits of the crews. But we wore their colours in our buttonholes, and the effect of these badges on our lives was anarchic. We saw blue.''

''It was my fate to drift, fatally and immutably Cambridge, into a school that had a crushing Oxford majority. In these circumstances, the light-blue ribbon became, for the small and devoted band that upheld the Cambridge tradition of valour, the cause of endless but never conclusive defeats, the symbol of a splendid martyrdom. Try as we might, we found ourselves always in a minority, and, to add to our bitterness, these years of luckless warfare coincided with a series of Cambridge defeats, and we knew ourselves the supporters of a forlorn and discredited cause. And yet, Fate having decreed that we should be Cambridge, we did not falter before our hopeless task of convincing the majority that it was made of baser stuff than we. We would arrive in the morning with our colours stitched to our coats, and when, overwhelmed by numbers, we lost our dear favours we would retire to a place apart, repair the loss from a secret store of ribbon, and dash once more into the fray. The others might be Oxford when they had a mind to, but we were Cambridge -- Cambridge all the time.''

''Our contests were always fierce, but only once so far as I remember did they become really venomous. Some ingenious Cambridge mind had hit on the idea of protecting his badge with a secret battery of pins, and there ensued a series of real and desperate fights that threatened our clan with physical extinction. The trouble passed as suddenly as it had arisen; a mysterious rumour went round the clans that pins were bad form; there was a lull while Cambridge treated their black eyes, and Oxford put sticking plaster on their torn fingers. Pleasanter to remember is the famous retort of L_____, an utterance so finely dramatic that even to-day I cannot recall it without a thrill. Caught apart from his comrades, he was surrounded by the Oxford rabble, and robbed of his colours. “You aren’t Cambridge now,” said one of his assailants, mockingly. “Ah, but the sky is Cambridge!” he replied, and indeed it was. We had our little victories to dull the edge of our defeats.''

''And yet, probably, we of Cambridge were not altogether sorry when the Boat Race was over, and the business might be forgotten for another eleven months, for we had but little rest while the war of the ribbons was in the air. If we sought to take quiet walk round the quad, the chance was that a boy, too small perhaps to keep a favour even for a minute, but with a light-blue heart, would run up with tidings of some comrade hardly beset in the cloisters, and the battle must be begun again. These contests were sometimes the cause of temporary friendships, for in the course of the tumult one would find oneself indebted to a year-long enemy for the timely discomfiture of one’s opponent, who in his turn might be, normally, one’s bosom companion. For no tie was sacred enough to overcome this vernal madness of the Blues. If a fellow was base enough to be Oxford his presence in the world was unnecessary, his society tabooed. And, as I have said, even brothers would bang each others’ heads for the beauty of the Idea.''

''Then came a day when age and responsibility changed our views on a good many things, and the Boat Race was not spared. Forgetful of the old triumphs and the old despairs, we preferred to treat ourselves and life in more sober terms, while smiling tolerantly at the little boys playing their rough games beneath our feet. Leaning forward with hands eager to clutch our manhood, we would not for worlds have compromised our new position by taking an interest in such childish trifles as coloured ribbons. So the game went on without us, and the measure of our loss is the measure of the loss of the earth when the spring melts into summer.''

''To-day I hear persons discussing the Boat Race in railway carriages, and in face of their dispassionate judgments I ask myself whether they can ever have sung for it and fought for it, and, let it be added, wept for it, as I have done. In truth, I suppose they have; for boys do not differ widely in these essential things. But these people do not fight; they do not even wear the ribbon! While it is open to a man to ignore the Boat Race altogether, I cannot understand his approaching the contest in so miserable a spirit.''

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/

title: The Rowers of Vanity Fair/Hornby JJ


text:
General Astronomy/Stars/Introduction

Stars, by astronomical definition, are massive luminous balls of plasma. They exist in numbers too large to comprehend, and most are believed to be accompanied by a system of planets. The planet Earth is part of the Sun's solar system of 8 planets, the Sun being the nearest star to Earth. The Sun provides most of Earth's energy, and is critical to the survival of all forms of life on the planet.

Over the history of mankind, human views of the stars have differed greatly. Historically, the stars have existed as major figments in the mythological canon of many cultures, and were seen as objects of mystery and speculation. The Sun in particular has been the object of great cultural, religious and theoretical importance and speculation and has, more specifically, been a central point of debate in arguments relating to the topography and geography of the solar system itself.

The stars have also been great use. Seafarers and fisherman have historically used the patterns of the stars on the night sky as a vast and accurate kind of map. Many civilizations tracked their movements and channeled their findings into calendars, which in turn would determine agricultural practices.

In recent centuries, scientific views of the stars have become much more advanced, following the invention and continual advancement of the telescope, and the discovery of various techniques and ways to assess the various properties of a star. This study of stars is built upon the only two attributes that are directly observable from Earth: a star's location and its brightness. Although the stars appear to move across the sky over the course of a night and over the course of a year, the relative positions of the stars are almost constant relative to each other. However, the careful measurement of stellar positions (astrometry) shows small motions. Three of the most significant contributors to stellar motion are:
 * Parallax changes, due to the earth motion around the sun,
 * Proper motion, due to the star's journey around the center of the galaxy, and
 * Wobbles in the proper motion, due to the star's gravitational "dance" with a companion, either another star (or stars) or one or more planets orbiting the star.

Measurement of star brightness provides a wealth of information about the star. In particular:
 * Measurement of how the star's brightness changes over time (its lightcurve) can reveal the presence of companion stars (in binary or triple systems), companion planets, sunspots, flares, explosions, and recurring (sometimes even periodic) fluctuations in the star's structure. Collectively, we refer to any star whose brightness fluctuates as a variable star.
 * Measurement of how the star's brightness varies with the wavelength (color) of light can be used to describe the star's color, estimate its temperature, and detect specific wavelengths where the star's light is either brighter or dimmer than average. These spectral lines can be used to identify the elements (and sometimes even molecules) within the star's atmosphere.

A star's apparent brightness is influenced by three primary factors:
 * Its intrinsic brightness (luminosity), a measure of the amount of energy being released by the star,
 * Its distance from the earth, and
 * The presence of any clouds of absorbing material between the earth and the star.

Because the dimming of starlight because of distance from the earth is well-defined and easily calculated and because the apparent brightness of a star is easily measured, knowing (or estimating) the star's luminosity allows its distance to be calculated and vice versa.

In the following topic regarding stars, we explore several key aspects of stars, their properties, the continual advancement of our knowledge of these heavenly bodies, and what their place is in the universe.

 * Table of contents
 * 1) Mass
 * 2) Luminosity
 * 3) Temperature
 * 4) The H-R Diagram
 * 5) Star Clusters as Cosmic Laboratories

title: General Astronomy/Stars/Introduction


text:
The Rowers of Vanity Fair/Some Editors Authors and Artists of Vanity Fair

Editors, Authors, and Artists of VANITY FAIR
Vanity Fair ran from 1868 to 1914, but by no means was the same magazine at the beginning, the middle, and the end. A succession of editors, authors, and artists, competition from imitators and other journals, changing tastes, advances in photography and publishing technology -- the whole sweep of a near half-century -- all left their stamp. As this general history has been well-written elsewhere, a slimmer version will suffice here with special attention to those aspects specific to rowing. A sample issue -- July 20, 1889, when Guy Nickalls appeared -- is reproduced in full as an appendix.

Thomas Gibson Bowles (1842-1922) created, owned, and for the most part edited Vanity Fair for its first twenty years. The illegitimate child of a Liberal M.P., Bowles grew up in his father’s household witnessing a parade of literary and society figures at dinner parties and other functions. He attended neither a famous public school nor university but at nineteen got a minor position with the Board of Trade, of which his father was then President. From that perch he dabbled in journalism and amateur theater, wrote plays and contributed to satirical society magazines, and made friends with emerging journalists, lawyers, politicians, military officers, and actors. Eight years later, in 1868, Bowles chucked the Board of Trade to launch Vanity Fair as a weekly for the “hupper suckles” encoded with “the passwords of Society.”  To T.H.S. Escott, an historian of Fleet Street writing in 1911, Bowles “not only brought in the society journal as an institution:  he invented its very name”; Vanity Fair became “the real parent of all subsequent growths in that department of journalism at a date when it seemed as fashionable to run a weekly sheet for one’s friends as to endow a theatre for one’s mistress.”   Leslie Ward, who contributed portraits to the magazine for nearly forty years, thought Bowles “the best editor the paper ever had. He had the gift of the right word in the right place; and it may be remarked that a dislike of Dickens prevented any quotations from that well-known author from entering the pages.”  Likewise novelist and playwright Max Pemberton, who began his career at Vanity Fair in 1885 after rowing at Caius, considered Bowles “a very martinet when a man’s style of writing was to be judged.”

Among Bowles’ initial contributors and compatriots was Walter Bradford Woodgate (1840-1920). Woodgate went up to to Brasenose College, Oxford, in 1858 where he lingered well into the 1860s, mainly on the river. He won the University Pairs three times, the Sculls twice, rowed in the Boat Race twice (1862 and 1863, winning both), won the Grand Challenge Cup in 1865, the Stewards’ Challenge Cup in 1862, the Diamond Sculls in 1864, the Goblets in 1861-63, 1866, and 1868, and the Wingfield Sculls in 1862, 1864, and 1867. By entering for the Diamonds in 1866 under a false name, and for having his coxswain jump overboard at the start of the 1868 Stewards’ to lighten his Brasenose four, Woodgate caused the adoption of Henley Regatta rules specifically prohibiting such conduct. When coxswains were dropped from the Stewards’ in 1873, “he won his moral victory,” the Rowing Almanack later recalled. “Nothing but defeating a railway in an action at law could have given him so much pleasure.”

Woodgate’s major non-aquatic accomplishment at Oxford was the founding in 1863 of Vincent’s Club (named for the landlord who rented the rooms), in reaction against the Union Society. The Union at the time barred smoking and drinking and, in Woodgate’s view, “went through the farce of socially ‘vetting’ every candidate, and after all, passing all sorts and conditions of men as ‘sound,’ despite notorious antecedents.”  So he and his friends made Vincent’s selective (“a magic number -- 100 -- to give prestige”) and offered beer, tea, and coffee, all for free lest the proctors intervene were drinks “for sale.”    An immediate success, Vincent’s climbed straight to the top of the undergraduate social heap. Among its later presidents were Vanity Fair rowers Bankes, Nickalls, and Cotton.

A lifelong bachelor, Woodgate was called to the bar in 1872. He practiced for forty years but took neither the law nor anything else save rowing too seriously. He helped coach numerous Oxford crews and was president of Kingston R.C. He wrote Oars and Sculls, and How to Use Them (1874), Boating (1888, for the Badminton Library set), Reminiscences of an Old Sportsman (1909), plus a few non-rowing works. He contributed to The Field for half a century, frequently “produc[ing] the leading article in a curious but flexible English, which was quite unmistakable.”  Woodgate’s writing attests to his clerical family background, classical Greek and Latin schooling, years of lawyering, and an unsuppressable urge to storytell, laced with legalisms and couplets from Horace. He could, wrote T.A. Cook, who rowed for Oxford in 1889 with Vanity Fair ’s Guy Nickalls, “write anything from a curate’s sermon to a leading article on the Torts of Landlords or a racy description of a prize fight and a sculling match.”  Take, for instance, his recollection of “screwing up” dons at University College, Oxford, in the 1860s:

''I have referred to the comparatively good feeling that existed in my time between B.N.C. dons and undergraduates, as compared to the cat and dog situation in some colleges. At University Coll., for instance, “screwing up” was almost a terminal feature. The technical procedure there was to screw up the oak [door] of an unpopular don with coffin nails, and then to file off the heads (in the small hours). At chapel-time the next morning the victim (say, Lee Warner) would be heard yelling from his window for the porter, saying, “My door is fast. I cannot open it. What am I to do?” The porter would stolidly reply, from below:  “Mr. Chavasse, sir, usually sends for X-” (a local carpenter and coffin maker, who drove rather a lucrative trade in thus releasing from durance vile those dons on whom the undergraduate Vehmgericht had passed sentence). Lee Warner obtained common room inquiry on this outrage to himself, and announced, in terrorem, that he would resign his tutorship, if the malefactors did not give in their names. Old Dr. Plumptre, the Head, took him at his word, and clenched the resignation irrevocably so long as he lived. He ascribed college disorder to failure of tact in dons and tried to weed duffers.''

Woodgate contributed most and the best of the rowing articles to Vanity Fair from roughly 1870 to 1873 and from 1890 to 1907, using the pen name “Wat Bradford” in the ‘70s. (Hence the inspiration for the pen name of a Wiki contributor to this 21st century compilation of the rowers of Vanity Fair .) In the intervening years, from 1874 through 1889, rowing was either ignored in Vanity Fair, given passing reference as an honorable chapter in the biographies of eminent men, or, with respect to Henley, discussed for who was there and how splendid were the parties. As a weekly, Vanity Fair could not compete with the sports coverage in the daily papers and thus, in those lean years without Woodgate, hardly tried. In the 1886 Boat Race, for example, Cambridge was down by open water at Barnes Bridge but went on to win by two-thirds of a length, an unprecedented comeback. “Never in the whole history of the Boatrace has there been a contest more thrilling to watch or more sensational in its result,” judged the Boat Race 1929 Official Centenary History. Yet Vanity Fair ’s anonymous columnist simply reported (April 10, 1886): “As I anticipated, Cambridge won the Boat Race, after one of the finest races ever seen. But as everyone has had enough of the reporters’ gush, I will say no more about it.”

Vanity Fair owed its early and enduring success to its first caricaturist,Carlo Pellegrini (1839-89). A native of Capua, Pellegrini left Italy for England in 1864 and spent the remaining half of his life there. Cultivating a reputation as a bohemian bon vivant who claimed Medici lineage and to have fought with Garibaldi, Pellegrini established himself in London society as a pet and the caricaturist of the Prince of Wales’ set. On meeting Bowles at a dinner party, Pellegrini reportedly said: “Your paper is very bad:  I shall draw pictures for you and make you rich.”  Whether the introduction was apocryphal or not, Bowles did engage Pellegrini to produce “some Pictorial Wares of an entirely novel character,”  starting with Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli in the January 30, 1869 issue. This famous thirteenth issue, which proved so popular that it went into three editions with the third selling for twice the price of the original, introduced caricature and chromolithography to the magazine as well as to the general London press. It inaugurated between editor and artist “the same successful conjunction that in opera bouffe was presented by the co-operation of W.S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan.” From 1869 to until his death in 1889 Pellegrini contributed 332 more caricatures under the pen-name “Ape,” including the first two of our rowers, Stafford Henry Northcote (October 8, 1870) and William Baliol Brett (January 1, 1876).

What marked the work of Pellegrini, according to David Low, was his “the study of individual particularity, involving the mental as well as the ocular vision”; his caricatures “were maximum likenesses, that is to say they represented not only what he saw but also what he knew.” In this respect Pellegrini followed the French portraits chargés of Daumier and Gill, but he replaced their satiric bite with the Neopolitan good humour of Delfico, who himself eventually supplied some caricatures to Vanity Fair. When the Daily News complained that Pellegrini’s early work lacked an essential “comic” element and tended to “phantasmagoric extravagance,” “grimness,” and “grotesqueness,” Bowles denied the charge, explaining that the “original and genuine purpose” of caricature was “to charge and exaggerate” reality: “There are grim faces made more grim, grotesque figures made more grotesque, and dull people made duller by the genius of our talented collaborator ‘Ape’; but there is nothing that has been treated with a set purpose to make it something that it was not already in a lesser degree.”   Pellegrini set the artistic trademark for Vanity Fair, and while most of his successors attempted to emulate it to varying degrees, none came close save perhaps for Max Beerbohm, who unfortunately drew no rowers.

Among the first to substitute for Pellegrini during one of his self-imposed sabbaticals was James Joseph Jacques Tissot (1836-1902). Raised in Nantes, Tissot moved to Paris at age nineteen where he became a successful painter, a friend of Degas and Manet. Bowles met Tissot there in the late 1860s and bought his series of European “Sovereigns” that Vanity Fair carried in late 1869 under the name “Coïdé.” They met again in 1870 while Bowles covered the siege of Paris for the Morning Post. With the collapse of the Paris Commune, Tissot fled in May 1871 to London where Bowles provided him with housing, an effective entree to London society, and some early commissions. Those included his single rower for Vanity Fair, a sinister rendering of the young Radical M.P. Charles Wentworth Dilke (November 25, 1871). With such aid and his own social and business acumen, deploying his versatile academic brush to suit demand, Tissot rejuvenated his career, at least with the purchasing public if not always with the critics. Three years after Tissot’s arrival in England, French critic Edmond de Goncourt recorded in his journal: “Today, Duplessis told me that Tissot, that plagiarist painter, has had the greatest success in England. Was it not his idea, this ingenious exploiter of English idiocy, to have a studio with a waiting room where, at all times, there is iced champagne at the disposal of visitors, and around the studio, a garden where, all day long, one can see a footman in silk stockings brushing and shining the shrubbery leaves?”  Tissot produced thirty-nine portraits for Vanity Fair from 1871 to 1873, ultimately sixty-two in total.

Leslie Ward (1851-1922), better known as “Spy,” contributed 1325 portraits to Vanity Fair from 1873 to 1911, amounting to over half the magazine’s total and including forty-one prints of forty rowers (doing H.L.B. McCalmont twice, once in 1889 and again in 1896). It might be thought a fitting career for a London-born Etonian whose parents were both accomplished painters, but in fact did not occur without a good dose of ambition and luck. His father, E.M. Ward, a member of the Royal Academy, opposed an artistic career and to deflect young Leslie’s talents to a more reliable livelihood, apprenticed him to a prominent architect, Sydney Smirke (responsible among other things for the neoclassical United Oxford and Cambridge Club on Pall Mall). Ward bore it for a year but Smirke then decided to retire and the ensuing need in 1871 to find some substitute gave Ward the chance to precipitate what he later called “a rousing scene” with his father. With the mediation of some artist friends, drawing and painting won over architecture. Right away, Ward was keen to be published in Vanity Fair : “[W]hen I saw the first numbers of Vanity Fair I was greatly taken with Pellegrini’s caricatures, and, having a book of drawings of similar character, had thought that if only I could get one drawing in Vanity Fair I should die happy.”   The chance arose two years later when Pellegrini was off duty leaving Bowles with inadequate substitutes. John Millais, a friend of Bowles and Ward but who never contributed to Vanity Fair, selected a sketch from Ward’s portfolio and suggested that Ward redraw it to appropriate size, which he did and Bowles accepted. But it was unsigned, so Bowles referred Ward to a dictionary to find inspiration for a pen-name for future work. He opened it to “spy,” defined as “to observe secretly, or to discover at a distance or in concealment.” “Just the thing,” said Bowles, and Ward used it faithfully from that point onward. Thus while Ward’s “orthodox art training. . . left him with a somewhat harder and less elastic equipment than his master [Pellegrini],” his perseverance to become a society artist earned him Bowles’ confidence and eventually the majority of the available commissions.

Ward was neither a rower nor a close follower of the sport. “I am always interested in the chances of the rival [Boat Race] crews; still, my interest was nothing out of the common,” he recalled in his 1915 memoirs. Yet “amongst my pleasantest recollections,” he added, “are those of the university-rowing men with whom I came in close contact, for in every way possible they extended their hospitality to me, and I shall always remember with pleasure my visits to Oxford and Cambridge especially during the rowing season.”  This hospitality may have included patiently posing, for although Ward did indeed “spy” many of his subjects, others, particularly in the post-Bowles years, were selected by mutual consent which facilitated the lengthy study Ward needed to be able to complete a sketch. Recalling an anonymous undergraduate in training for the Boat Race, Ward observed: “I have found men of this rowing calibre usually wonderful sitters, being perfectly fit; this particular young man was in excellent form, so much so that he completely outstood me and said when I, at last, begged him leave to have a rest:  ‘Why I can go on standing all day without fatigue!’”

Over time, Vanity Fair published the work of more than fifty other artists. Théobald Chartran (1849-1907), a graduate of the École des Beaux-Arts and winner of the grand prix de Rome, published sixty-eight portraits in Vanity Fair from 1878 to 1884, including rower W.H. Waddington. Belgian sculptor François Verheyden (1806-99) contributed six caricatures in 1883 in connection with the Belt v. Lawes libel case with which Vanity Fair was intimately linked, including that of defendant C.B. Lawes (May 12, 1883), the Cambridge stroke of 1865. Francis Carruthers Gould (1844-1925), better known for the highly inventive political cartoons that earned him a knighthood from the Liberals after the 1906 election, drew seven caricatures for Vanity Fair, among them that of B.J. Angle (April 5, 1890) who was, as Gould had been, a stockbroker. Henry Charles Sepping Wright (1850-1937), a barrister “stuff gownsman” who caught fellow lawyers and judges in court, published his works under the sobriquet “Stuff” and contributed Mr. Justice Denman (November 19, 1892). Other artists, known only by pseudonym, include “Ape Junior” (who drew R.C. Bourne, March 29, 1911), “ELF” (R.H. Forster, July 6, 1910), “Hay” (E.J.H. Smith, January 28, 1888), “Owl” (R. McKenna, April 23, 1913), “Ray” (Lord Cheylesmore, July 17, 1912), and “WH” (S.E. Swann, April 3, 1912, J. C. Carter, July 3, 1912, and F.V. Brooks, September 18, 1912).

No rowers featured as such in Vanity Fair during the twenty years Bowles owned and ran it, other than Reverend Smith of Pembroke College, Cambridge, who as mentioned above was known to coach the college fifth Lent boat. Bowles did depict a few non-rowing sportsmen (such as cricketer W.G. Grace and jockey Fred Archer) and eleven of our rowers in their then-current capacities as politician, judge, or what have you. To show rowers qua rowers fell to Bowles’ successors, starting with Arthur Evans and Arthur George Witherby as owner and editor respectively. Evans, the former City Editor for Bowles, reportedly used the perch mainly to manipulate the stocks in which he was interested. Witherby, whom Ward described as “a good sort and keen sportsman,” contributed eight drawings himself under the pen-name “W.A.G.,” including that of Montague Shearman (July 4, 1895), an ex-rower better known and featured as co-founder of the Amateur Athletic Association. On Witherby’s watch Vanity Fair began carrying one or two rowers per year, starting with Nickalls and Searle in 1889, and welcomed Woodgate back into the fold for annual commentary on the Boat Race and Henley. Cricketers, jockeys, golfers, polo and tennis players -- all manner of Victorian sportsmen -- also began appearing frequently, though whether this reflected Witherby’s personal taste or his readers’ is hard to say. It may also have been due to the arrival of Bertram Fletcher Robinson, a Cambridge rugby Blue who got his journalistic start covering the sport in the early 1890s for Rudy Lehmann’s Granta. Robinson eventually left Vanity Fair for The World and died in 1907, at thirty-six.

As the increased rowing coverage coincided with Oxford’s 1890-98 run in the Boat Race, the featured rowers tended toward darker blue, which drew the following letter to the editor:

Adelphi Hotel, Liverpool, 20th March, 1894.

''DEAR VANITY,-- Guess I’m just going to ask you a civil question. How the deuce is it that at Boat Race time you invariably show the full-length carcase of a Dark Blue oarsman? If the idea is to give a tip for the winner, well, it is excusable -- especially when it is considered that Oxford have won for the last few years consecutively. But, on the other hand, if your intention is merely to let the public see the outward and visible form on paper of one of the chief actors in the event -- well, hang it, surely the other side might have a show now and again. The Cantabs are surely just as “highly respectable” as their whilom opponents, and, to put it mildly, they are quite as popular. Now, Sir, I’m neither a Cantonian nor an Oxab -- nor a ‘Varsity man of any kind at all. But I do imagine that as there are two sides to every question so there are two crews in every University Boat Race.''

Dear Vanity, do be Fair, and oblige yours amphibiously,

 * PEREGRINE PICKLE

To which Vanity Fair replied:

''[A] “civil question” demands a civil answer; wherefore I refer “Peregrine Pickle” to “Spy’s” cartoon to-day [of C.T. Fogg-Elliot of C.U.B.C.] I fancy that I was not much to blame for putting Mr. Cotton a week in front of Mr. Fogg-Elliot. As for other Cambridge oars, they have not been excluded from the Vanity Fair gallery. Mr. Muttlebury’s presentment was the last given, two or three years back. When Vanity Fair was a Saturday paper, it generally gave one President on the day of the race. As a Thursday paper it has for the first time this year given two Presidents; one on each side of the race. Wherefore my amphibious correspondent is, or should be, already “obliged.”''

But, were he less amphibious, he might have seen that Mr. Fogg-Elliot’s picture was announced for this week in last week’s Vanity Fair .

By this time Vanity Fair had lost a good deal of its cachet, both relative to the growing competition and absolutely due to the departure of Bowles and his coterie. Evans and Witherby reacted by adding girth to the product and appealing, with a touch of indignation, to readers’ brand loyalty. “Here,” touted the June 28, 1890 issue, “for the first time in the history of this Journal, is a volume of Vanity Fair which contains more than 570 pages. The half-yearly volume, of which the present are the concluding pages, is, it may be noted, larger by some 200 pages than most of its predecessors have been.” The growth reflects “the increased support which has been accorded to it by its readers,” despite competition that generally “has grown more than ever keen,. . . so keenly so, indeed, that in many cases the competition of our rivals has developed into the most barefaced piracy and the most false originality.” Yet even though the magazine “has never lacked imitators, and of late years its distinctive features have been more or less generally copied by the whole of the daily Press,” Vanity Fair ’s “‘little band of Pilgrims’ enjoyed from the outset “consistent triumph over the difficulties which they started to defy, and which they have ever since, it may be said without vanity, triumphantly overcome.”

Evans eventually sold out to Oliver Fry, “a journalist of the old school, a man of education,” who ultimately was unable to make a financial go of it. “There is no place for such weeklies nowadays, for there is no longer any governing class, only wandering bands of financiers,” Edgar Jepson, Fry’s successor as editor, recalled in 1936. Fry in turn sold out in 1907 to Frank Harris, a colorful character in the twilight of his career who milked the franchise. Harris’ autobiography tells nothing of his views on rowing and rowers while he owned Vanity Fair, but does recall how he covered the Boat Race for the Evening News in the 1880s:

''In my first year in the Evening News I learned and practiced nearly every journalistic trick. When the annual boat race between Oxford and Cambridge was about to be decided, I found out that the experts usually know which crew would win. Of course sometimes they are mistaken, but very rarely, and this year they all agreed it was a foregone conclusion for Oxford. Accordingly, on the great morning I had fifty thousand papers printed with ‘Oxford won’ in big letters under the latest preliminary reports of the training, etc. As soon as the telephone message came through that Oxford had won, I let the boys out and this start enabled me to sell all the fifty thousand papers. I did the same thing with race after race on the turf and soon it began to be known that the Evening News had the earliest news of the races.'' When Harris bought Vanity Fair he promptly ran off to New York to trade its influence on the British stock-buying public in exchange for Wall Street investment in the magazine. The Americans declined the offer, but Harris’ absence gave Jepson six months at the helm as interim editor. He made the most of it:

''It is foolish to try to edit a paper without a fixed policy, and since it was the function of a club-land weekly to keep politics pure and politicians up to their work and deal faithfully with all kinds of rogues, I made it my policy to run as near to the law of libel as I possibly could all the time, and I stuck to it. About an open rogue there was no need to bother: I libelled him with exact truthfulness; he fired in a writ -- as a pledge of good faith I suppose; the matter ended. But to tell the truth about a less open rogue without landing the paper with a doubtful and expensive libel action was a very different matter.''

''But I had, in the office itself, an accomplished solicitor, a cousin of the Duchess of Manchester, who knew everything about the law of libel that was to be known, and he was very helpful. But sometimes, when I was dealing with astute roguery of jobbery, it would take me two hours to say in ten lines exactly what I wished to say about it, before the solicitor would warrant the paragraph not to produce a libel action, and I could safely do the rogue good. I learnt that you could say very nearly anything, if you said it carefully.''

It was enjoyable, and it proved to be the right policy, for the circulation of the paper, which had been sinking for years, rose and went on rising: people do so enjoy observing others done good to.

Curiously, neither Jepson nor Harris used Vanity Fair ’s caricatures in support of this near-libelous editorial policy; the very point of caricature being, after all, to land that sort of truthful punch. “If the celebrities wrote their own biographies,” Jepson recalled, “well and good: I was saved trouble. If they did not, I lunched with them and listened to the histories of their lives, such simple lives, and wrote the biography myself.” Reading the March 13, 1907 biography of Duggie Stuart (“a great athlete . . . an oarsman of demoniac swiftness and skill”), one suspects it falls in the former category. But according to Jepson Harris went one better, auctioning the slots outright: “If you wished to be celebrated, you paid him fifty pounds for the drawing of your cartoon in Vanity Fair, and there you were -- certified famous.”  R.H. Forster (July 6, 1910) and R.C. Bourne (March 29, 1911) featured in this period. So did R.B. Etherington-Smith (August 5, 1908), but he appeared immediately after captaining Leander to victory at the London (Henley) Olympics, which lessens the chance his biography was self-selected.

Jepson complained that Harris “frittered away the circulation, and the paper died, deeply in debt,” adding that his “habit of bleeding the papers he had to do with, of any money that came in, paralyzed them, and exploitation was his metier.”  Maybe cheapness to authors explains the coincidence of Woodgate’s departure with Harris’ arrival. Vanity Fair was hardly a business when Harris sold out to its last owner, Dr. Thomas Allinson, in late 1911. Unlike Harris, Allinson was no newspaper man; his interests lay in nutrition and hygiene, publishing such works as “The Advantages of Wholemeal Bread.” Under his administration the writing in Vanity Fair suffered – witness every biography after 1911 – hardly the “light, epigrammatic, pungent, and excessively neat” stuff on which Bowles made the magazine’s reputation over forty years earlier. In early 1914, Allinson folded the remnants into Hearth and Home, bringing the institution to a close.


text:
User:ABF

Hi. I am ABF@commonswiki.

title: User:ABF


text:
Fractals/Iterations in the complex plane/Julia set

"... a single algorithm for computing all quadratic Julia sets does not exist."

This book shows how to code different algorithms for drawing sets in dynamical plane : Julia, Filled-in Julia or Fatou sets for complex quadratic polynomial. It is divided in 2 parts :
 * description of various algorithms
 * descriptions of technics for visualisation of various sets in dynamic plane
 * Julia set
 * Fatou set
 * basin of attraction of infinity ( open set)
 * basin of attraction of finite attractor

=Algorithms=

Methods based on speed of attraction
Here color is proportional to speed of attraction ( convergence to attractor). These methods are used in Fatou set.

How to find:
 * lowest optimal bailout values ( IterationMax) ?
 * escape radius

Basin of attraction to infinity = exterior of filled-in Julia set and The Divergence Scheme = Escape Time Method ( ETM )
First read definitions

Here one computes forward iterations of a complex point Z0:

$$Z_{n+1} = Z_n^2 + C $$

Here is function which computes the last iteration, that is the first iteration that lands in the target set ( for example leaves a circle around the origin with a given escape radius ER ) for the iteration of the complex quadratic polynomial above. It is a iteration ( integer) for which (abs(Z)>ER). It can also be improved

C version ( here ER2=ER*ER) using double floating point numbers ( without complex type numbers) :

C with complex type from GSL :

C++ versions:

Delphi version  ( using user defined complex type, cabs and f functions )

where :

Delphi version without explicit definition of complex numbers :

Euler version by R. Grothmann ( with small change : from z^2-c to z^2+c)

function iter (z,c,n=100) ...

h=z; loop 1 to n; h=h^2 + c; if totalmax(abs(h))>1e20; m=#; break; endif; end; return {h,m}; endfunction

Lisp version

This version uses complex numbers. It makes the code short but is also inefficient.

Maxima version :

/* easy to read but very slow version, uses complex type numbers */ GiveLastIteration(z,c):= block([i:0],  while abs(z)<ER and i<iMax      do (z:z*z + c,i:i+1),   i)$

/* faster version, without use of complex type numbers, compare with c version, ER2=ER*ER */ GiveLastIter(zx,zy,cx,cy,ER2,iMax):= block( [i:0,zx2,zy2],  zx2:zx*zx,  zy2:zy*zy,  while (zx2+zy2<ER2) and i<iMax do  ( zy:2*zx*zy + cy, zx:zx2-zy2 +cx, zx2:zx*zx, zy2:zy*zy, i:i+1 ), return(i) );

Boolean Escape time
Algorithm: for every point z of dynamical plane (z-plane) compute iteration number ( last iteration) for which magnitude of z is greater than escape radius. If last_iteration=max_iteration then point is in filled-in Julia set, else it is in its complement (attractive basin of infinity ). Here one has 2 options, so it is named boolean algorithm.

if (LastIteration==IterationMax) then color=BLACK;  /* bounded orbits = Filled-in Julia set */ else color=WHITE; /* unbounded orbits = exterior of Filled-in Julia set  */

In theory this method is for drawing Filled-in Julia set and its complement ( exterior), but when c is Misiurewicz point ( Filled-in Julia set has no interior) this method draws nothing. For example for c=i. It means that it is good for drawing interior of Filled-in Julia set.

Normalized iteration count (real escape time or fractional iteration or Smooth Iteration Count Algorithm (SICA))
Math formula :

 * $$\nu(z)=\lim\limits_{i\to\infty}( i-\log_2\log_2|z_i|)\ .$$

Maxima version :

GiveNormalizedIteration(z,c,E_R,i_Max):= /* */ block( [i:0,r],  while abs(z)<E_R and i<i_Max    do (z:z*z + c,i:i+1),  r:i-log2(log2(cabs(z))),  return(float(r)) )$

In Maxima log(x) is a natural (base e) logarithm of x. To compute log2 use :

log2(x) := log(x) / log(2);

description:
 * FF : julia-smooth-colouring-how-to-do
 * stefan bion : fraktal-generator/colormapping/
 * FF smooth-histogram-rendering/
 * FF creating-a-good-palette-using-bezier-interpolation/

Level Curves of escape time Method = eLCM/J
These curves are boundaries of Level Sets of escape time ( eLSM/J ). They can be drawn using these methods:
 * edge detection of Level Curves ( =boundaries of Level sets).
 * Algorithm based on paper by M. Romera et al.
 * Sobel filter
 * drawing lemniscates = curves $$L_n=\{z: abs(z_n)=ER \}\,$$, see  explanation and source code
 * drawing circle $$L_0=\{z: abs(z)=ER  \}\,$$ and its preimages.  See this image, explanation and source code
 * method described by Harold V. McIntosh

/* Maxima code : draws lemniscates of Julia set */ c: 1*%i; ER:2; z:x+y*%i; f[n](z) := if n=0 then z else (f[n-1](z)^2 + c); load(implicit_plot); /* package by Andrej Vodopivec */ ip_grid:[100,100]; ip_grid_in:[15,15]; implicit_plot(makelist(abs(ev(f[n](z)))=ER,n,1,4),[x,-2.5,2.5],[y,-2.5,2.5]);

Density of level curves

"The spacing between level curves is a good way to estimate gradients: level curves that are close together represent areas of steeper descent/ascent."

"The density of the contour lines tells how steep is the slope of the terrain/function variation. When very close together it means f is varying rapidly (the elevation increase or decrease rapidly). When the curves are far from each other the variation is slower"

How to control level curves
 * escape radius
 * shape of target set
 * manually
 * drawing equipotential lines
 * changing level sets ( level curves are boundaries of level sets)

Basin of attraction of finite attractor = interior of filled-in Julia set

 * How to find periodic attractor ?
 * How many iterations is needed to reach attractor ?

Components of Interior of Filled Julia set ( Fatou set)

 * use limited color ( palette = list of numbered colors)
 * find period of attracting cycle
 * find one point of attracting cycle
 * compute number of iteration after when point reaches the attractor
 * color of component=iteration % period
 * use edge detection for drawing Julia set

Internal Level Sets
See :
 * algorithm 0 of program Mandel by Wolf Jung

How to choose size of attracting trap such that level curves cross at critical point ?

It depends on
 * dynamic type ( superattracting/attracting, parabolic, repelling)
 * period ( child period in the parabolic case)

 * petal in the parabolic case :
 * for period 1 and 2 : radius of a circle with parabolic point on it's boundary
 * for higher periods sector of the circle with center at parabolic point
 * for other cases ( except repelling) it is radius of the circle with attractor as a center

Steps for parabolic basin
 * choose component with critical point inside
 * choose trap

Trap is a disk
 * inside component with critical point inside
 * trap has parabolic point on it's boundary
 * center of the trap is the midpoint between last point of critical orbit and fixed point
 * radius of the trap is half of distance between fixed point and last point of critical orbit

Decomposition of target set
Examples
 * fractint decomposition
 * fractalzoomer Binary_Decomposition

Binary decomposition
These curves :
 * are boundaries of binare decomposition boxes
 * are not field lines of potential = external rays

Notes
 * if the escape radius is too low, then binary (or ternary, etc) decomposition rays will have visible discontinuities at iteration bands. increasing escape radius makes discontinuities smaller, but changes the aspect ratio
 * mrob says exp(pi) is the best escape radius for binary decomposition as it makes boxes have square aspect ratio (possibly more visible when using exponential map transformation?)

Constant number of iterations
Here exterior of Julia set is decompositioned into radial level sets.

It is because main loop is without bailout test and number of iterations ( iteration max) is constant.

It creates radial level sets.

See also:
 * mandel : algorithm 9 =  zeros of qn(c)
 * video by bryceguy72
 * video by FreymanArt

It is also related with automorphic function for the group of Mobius transformations

BDM in the attracting domain
BDM in the attracting domain ( usually interior of Julia sets ) gives (pseudo) Field lines

Explanation by Gert Buschmann

In each Fatou domain (that is not neutral) there are two systems of lines orthogonal to each other: the equipotential lines (for the potential function or the real iteration number) and the field lines.

If we colour the Fatou domain according to the iteration number (and not the real iteration number $$\nu(z)$$, as defined in the previous section), the bands of iteration show the course of the equipotential lines. If the iteration is towards ∞ (as is the case with the outer Fatou domain for the usual iteration $$z^{2} + c$$), we can easily show the course of the field lines, namely by altering the colour according as the last point in the sequence of iteration is above or below the x-axis (first picture), but in this case (more precisely: when the Fatou domain is super-attracting) we cannot draw the field lines coherently - at least not by the method we describe here. In this case a field line is also called an external ray.

Let z be a point in the attracting Fatou domain. If we iterate z a large number of times, the terminus of the sequence of iteration is a finite cycle C, and the Fatou domain is (by definition) the set of points whose sequence of iteration converges towards C. The field lines issue from the points of C and from the (infinite number of) points that iterate into a point of C. And they end on the Julia set in points that are non-chaotic (that is, generating a finite cycle). Let r be the order of the cycle C (its number of points) and let z* be a point in C. We have $$f(f(\dots f(z^*))) = z^*$$ (the r-fold composition), and we define the complex number α by

 * $$\alpha = (d(f(f(\dots f(z))))/dz)_{z=z^*}.$$

If the points of C are $$z_i, i = 1, \dots, r (z_1 = z^*)$$, α is the product of the r numbers $$f'(z_i)$$. The real number 1/|α| is the attraction of the cycle, and our assumption that the cycle is neither neutral nor super-attracting, means that 1 < 1/|α| < ∞. The point z* is a fixed point for $$f(f(\dots f(z)))$$, and near this point the map $$f(f(\dots f(z)))$$ has (in connection with field lines) character of a rotation with the argument β of α (that is, $$\alpha = |\alpha|e^{\beta i}$$).

In order to colour the Fatou domain, we have chosen a small number ε and set the sequences of iteration $$z_k (k = 0, 1, 2, \dots, z_0 = z)$$ to stop when $$|z_k - z^*| < \epsilon$$, and we colour the point z according to the number k (or the real iteration number, if we prefer a smooth colouring). If we choose a direction from z* given by an angle θ, the field line issuing from z* in this direction consists of the points z such that the argument ψ of the number $$z_k - z^*$$ satisfies the condition that

 * $$\psi - k\beta = \theta \mod \pi. \, $$

For if we pass an iteration band in the direction of the field lines (and away from the cycle), the iteration number k is increased by 1 and the number ψ is increased by β, therefore the number $$\psi - k\beta \mod \pi$$ is constant along the field line.

A colouring of the field lines of the Fatou domain means that we colour the spaces between pairs of field lines: we choose a number of regularly situated directions issuing from z*, and in each of these directions we choose two directions around this direction. As it can happen that the two field lines of a pair do not end in the same point of the Julia set, our coloured field lines can ramify (endlessly) in their way towards the Julia set. We can colour on the basis of the distance to the center line of the field line, and we can mix this colouring with the usual colouring. Such pictures can be very decorative (second picture).

A coloured field line (the domain between two field lines) is divided up by the iteration bands, and such a part can be put into a one-to-one correspondence with the unit square: the one coordinate is (calculated from) the distance from one of the bounding field lines, the other is (calculated from) the distance from the inner of the bounding iteration bands (this number is the non-integral part of the real iteration number). Therefore, we can put pictures into the field lines (third picture).

ToDo

 * add slope to white

Inverse Iteration Method (IIM/J) : Julia set
Inverse iteration of repellor for drawing Julia set

Complex potential - Boettcher coordinate
See description here

DEM/J
This algorithm has 2 versions:
 * exterior
 * interior

Compare it with version for parameter plane and Mandelbrot set : DEM/M It's the same as M-set exterior distance estimation but with derivative w.r.t. Z instead of w.r.t. C.

Convergence
In this algorithm distances between 2 points of the same orbit are checked

average discrete velocity of orbit
It is used in case of :
 * parabolic dynamic
 * eliptic dynamic ( Siegel disc )

Cauchy Convergence Algorithm (CCA)
This algorithm is described by User:Georg-Johann. Here is also Matemathics code by Paul Nylander

Normality
Normality In this algorithm distances between points of 2 orbits are checked

Checking equicontinuity by Michael Becker
"Iteration is equicontinuous on the Fatou set and not on the Julia set". (Wolf Jung)

Michael Becker compares the distance of two close points under iteration on Riemann sphere.

This method can be used to draw not only Julia sets for polynomials ( where infinity is always superattracting fixed point) but it can be also  applied  to other functions ( maps), for which infinity is not an attracting fixed point.

using Marty's criterion by Wolf Jung
Wolf Jung is using "an alternative method of checking normality, which is based on Marty's criterion:  |f'| / (1 + |f|^2)  must be bounded for all iterates." It is implemented in mndlbrot::marty function ( see src code of program Mandel ver 5.3 ). It uses one point of dynamic plane.

Koenigs coordinate
Koenigs coordinate are used in the basin of attraction of finite attracting (not superattracting) point (cycle).

=Optimisation=

Distance
You don't need a square root to compare distances.

Symmetry
Julia sets can have many symmetries

Quadratic Julia set has allways rotational symmetry ( 180 degrees) : colour(x,y) = colour(-x,-y)

when c is on real axis ( cy = 0) Julia set is also reflection symmetric :

colour(x,y) = colour(x,-y)

Algorithm :
 * compute half image
 * rotate and add the other half
 * write image to file

=Color=
 * color in computer graphic
 * Color Theory/Color gradient
 * Visualising Julia sets by Georg-Johann
 * Combined Methods of Depicting Julia Sets and Parameter Planes by Chris King
 * On Fractal Coloring Techniques by Jussi Harkonen Master's Thesis, Department of Mathematics, Åbo Akademi University, Turku, 2007, 61 pages. The thesis was carried out under the supervision of Professor Goran Hognas
 * Technical Info - Colorizing by Michael Condron
 * Technicolor Julias by Shawn Hargreaves

=Sets=

Target set
Target set
 * trap for forward orbit
 * it is a set which captures any orbit tending to fixed / periodic point.

Julia sets
"Most programs for computing Julia sets work well when the underlying dynamics is hyperbolic but experience an exponential slowdown in the parabolic case." ( Mark Braverman )

 * when Julia set is a set of points that do not escape to infinity under iteration of the quadratic map ( = filled Julia set has no interior = dendrt)
 * IIM/J
 * DEM/J
 * checking normality
 * when Julia set is a boundary between 2 basin of attraction ( = filled Julia set has no empty interior) :
 * boundary scanning
 * edge detection

Fatou set
Interior of filled Julia set can be coloured :
 * speed of attraction ( integer value = the number of iterations used to guess if a point is in the set ) which is converted to colour ( or shade of gray )
 * Internal Level Sets
 * attracting time ( sth like escape time but checks if (abs(z-attractor)<Attracting_radius
 * Binary decomposition
 * Tessellation of the Interior of Filled Julia Sets by Tomoki KAWAHIRA
 * discrete velocity in Siegel disc case

Periodic points
More is here

=Video=

One can make videos using :
 * zoom into dynamic plane
 * changing parametr c along path inside parameter plane
 * changing coloring scheme ( for example color cycling )

Examples :
 * Target set for internal ray 0 video
 * Quadratic Julia set with Internal level sets for internal ray 0 video

=More tutorials and code=
 * hypercomplex iterations - book
 * hvidtfeldts : distance-estimated-3d-fractals-v-the-mandelbulb-different-de-approximations/
 * in Java see Evgeny Demidov
 * in C see :
 * art gallery of Linas Vepstas
 * Fractint
 * Gfract: multi-threaded fractal exploration program by Osku Salerma
 * mdz : Mandelbrot Deep Zoom open source software for Linux by James W. Morris, based on Gfract
 * in C++ see Wolf Jung page,
 * in Gnuplot see Tutorial by T.Kawano
 * in Lisp for Maxima see Dynamics by Jaime E. Villate
 * in Mathemathica see :
 * Inverse Iteration Algorithms for Julia Sets by Mark McClure
 * Robert M. Dickau code

=References=
 * Drakopoulos V., Comparing rendering methods for Julia sets, Journal of WSCG 10 (2002), 155–161
 * tree with dynamics by Nathaniel D. Emerson
 * "Spiral Structures in Julia Sets and Related Sets", M. Michelitsch and O. E. Roessler in a book : SPIRAL SYMMETRY I. Hargittai and C. Pickover. (1992) World Scientific Publishing,
 * The Evolution of a Three-armed Spiral in the Julia Set, and Higher Order Spirals", A. G. Davis Philip in a book : SPIRAL SYMMETRY I. Hargittai and C. Pickover. (1992) World Scientific Publishing,
 * Beardon, A. : Symmetries of julia sets. The Mathematical Intelligencer. 1996-03-01 Springer New York Issn: 0343-6993 page 43 - 44.


text:
User talk:ABF

Come introduce yourself at the new users page. If you have any questions, you can ask there or contact me personally. -- Herby talk thyme 15:13, 6 January 2008 (UTC)

title: User talk:ABF


text:
User:Putera Luqman Tunku Andre

I'm sysop or admin from Malay Wikibooks.Can I ask question here if I have some problem.Thanks.Best regard.Putera Luqman Tunku Andre (talk) 15:22, 6 January 2008 (UTC)

title: User:Putera Luqman Tunku Andre


text:
User talk:Robert Valík

Welcome!
Come introduce yourself at the new users page. If you have any questions, you can ask there or contact me personally.-- – Mike.lifeguard  | talk 16:20, 6 January 2008 (UTC)

Blender 3D: Noob to Pro
Yes, that was the right thing to do. Thank you. I left a notice on the vandal's talk page. --Jomegat (talk) 22:02, 17 May 2008 (UTC)

title: User talk:Robert Valík


text:
User talk:Putera Luqman Tunku Andre

Welcome!
Come introduce yourself at the new users page. If you have any questions, you can ask there or contact me personally.-- – Mike.lifeguard  | talk 16:21, 6 January 2008 (UTC)

title: User talk:Putera Luqman Tunku Andre


text:
Template:SharedIP

 Attention:

This, is registered to  and may be shared by multiple users. If the organization uses proxy servers or firewalls, this IP address may in fact represent many users at many physical computers.

For this reason, a message intended for one person may be received by another and a block may be shared by many. If you are editing from this address and are frustrated by irrelevant messages, you can avoid them by creating an account for yourself. In some cases, you may temporarily be unable to create an account due to efforts to deal with vandalism; if so, please see here.

If you are autoblocked repeatedly, we encourage you to contact your Internet service provider or IT department and ask them to contact Wikimedia's XFF project about enabling X-Forwarded-For HTTP headers on their proxy servers so that our editing blocks will affect only the intended user. Alternatively, you can list the IP at Wikipedia:WikiProject on XFFs.

Caution should be used when blocking this IP or reverting its contributions without checking.

title: Template:SharedIP


text:
More C++ Idioms/Interface Class

= Interface Class =

Intent

 * To separate an interface of a class from its implementation.
 * Invoke implementation of an abstraction/class using runtime polymorphism.

Motivation
Separating an interface of a class from its implementation is fundamental to good quality object oriented software design/programming. For object oriented programming, the principal mechanism of separation is the Interface Class. However C++ (when compared to, say, Java) provides no exclusive mechanism for expressing such a separation. In Java, interface keyword is used to specify only the public methods that are supported by an abstraction. C++ does not have such a keyword but its functionality can be expressed closely using the Interface Class idiom. The idea is to express only the public methods of an abstraction and provide no implementation of any of them. Also, lack of implementation means no instances of the interface class should be allowed.

Solution and Sample Code
An interface class contains only a virtual destructor and pure virtual functions, thus providing a construct similar to the interface constructs of other languages (e.g. Java). An interface class is a class that specifies the polymorphic interface i.e. pure virtual function declarations into a base class. The programmer using a class hierarchy can then do so via a base class that communicates only the interface of classes in the hierarchy. Every interface class should have a virtual destructor. Virtual destructor makes sure that when a shape is deleted polymorphically, correct destructor of the derived class is invoked. Otherwise there is a good chance of resource leak. Benefit of expressing design using interface classes are many:
 * New shape abstractions can be added without changing the code that depends only on shape interface. For example, Square can inherit from shape and implement the interface methods in its own way. The function main needs no changes at all.
 * Separation of interface from implementation prevents recompilation of parts of the program that depend only on the interface classes.
 * Dependency Inversion Principle (DIP) states that implementation classes should not depend on each other. Instead, they should depend on common abstraction represented using an interface class. DIP reduces coupling in a object-oriented system.

Known Uses
Nearly all good object-oriented software in C++!

Related Idioms

 * Capability Query
 * Inner Class
 * Non-Virtual Interface
 * Function Poisoning

title: More C++ Idioms/Interface Class


text:
User:Heuler06/monobook.js

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var mark=false, change=false; function markIPs(change) { var searchExp=/Recent changes/i; var heading=document.getElementsByTagName("title")[0].text; if (mark && change) {  mark=false; } else {  mark=true; }; if (searchExp.test(heading)) {        // Falls die Seite im Titel "Letzte Änderungen" zu stehen hat, mache folgendes. var i=0; var el=document.getElementsByTagName("li"); // In den Listenelementen searchExp=/Special:Contributions\/\d{1,3}\.\d{1,3}\.\d{1,3}\.\d{1,3}/; // IPs (hier als Struktur von 4 Ziffernblöcken mit je           // mindestens einer Zahl getrennt durch einen Punkt) searchMe=/User:Heuler06/; while (i<el.length) {   var marker=document.createAttribute("style"); var ip=searchExp.test(el[i].innerHTML); // heraussuchen var me=searchMe.test(el[i].innerHTML); if (mark) {    if (ip) {marker.nodeValue="background:#ffffbb;";} else {if (me) {marker.nodeValue="background:#ffdddd;";};}; }   else {    marker.nodeValue="background:#F8FCFF;"; };   if (ip || me) {    el[i].setAttributeNode(marker); // und gelb markieren. };   i++; }; }; }

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title: User:Heuler06/monobook.js


text: User talk:88.242.70.187

title: User talk:88.242.70.187


text:
User talk:Prahas programming

Welcome!
Come introduce yourself at the new users page. If you have any questions, you can ask there or contact me personally.--Laleena (talk) 18:14, 6 January 2008 (UTC)

title: User talk:Prahas programming


text:
User talk:Noorul Huda

Welcome!
Come introduce yourself at the new users page. If you have any questions, you can ask there or contact me personally.--Laleena (talk) 19:01, 6 January 2008 (UTC)

title: User talk:Noorul Huda


text:
User talk:Xz64

Welcome!
Come introduce yourself at the new users page. If you have any questions, you can ask there or contact me personally.--Laleena (talk) 19:02, 6 January 2008 (UTC)

title: User talk:Xz64


text:
User talk:SweetMadness

Welcome!
Come introduce yourself at the new users page. If you have any questions, you can ask there or contact me personally.--Laleena (talk) 19:02, 6 January 2008 (UTC)

title: User talk:SweetMadness


text:
Wikibooks:Reading room/Administrative Assistance/Archives/2007/December

mw:Extension:Gadgets
I was poking around, and found this extension. This could be a very useful toy for enabling easy access to custom js/css. I can certainly think of a few js tools that users might find useful, but should be opt-in. This is also a more secure (though less versatile) method than having users put code in their monobook - the code is identical for all users, but comes from the Mediawiki namespace, so only admins can access it (and therefore the code would be trustworthy).

The extension isn't perfect, and WK can attest. It works best with monobook and not with cologne blue, and can do some funky things with custom skins. Any user with a custom skin can probably find a workaround though, and most people stick with monobook.

This also has the side-effect of allowing quick enable/disable of certain gadgets (ie you don't have to make tons of edits to your monobook to enable/disable something repeatedly. Many users don't realize they can have custom js, and among those who do, many can't code. This allows them easy access to secure code.

Although it's not perfect, I think it would be a good idea, if only to make these toys less frustrating but more secure. Keep in mind that you can still have custom .js, so it's an option, but not a requirement.

A few ideas (for more, take a look at de.wp & fr.wp): – Mike.lifeguard  | talk 06:28, 2 December 2007 (UTC)
 * The parts of TW that work out of the box here (morebits.js and twinklefluff.js at a minimum)
 * Purge tab
 * Edit top section tab or link
 * Six tabs (page/edit/hist talk/edit/hist)
 * Popups
 * Turn on/off those untagged and unlicensed tabs (can be opt-in since the template we notify uploaders with has the same links)
 * Easy opt-in for the Google hit counter WK's taking care of
 * Some neat admin tools (a modified version of VoAs stuff, autosdel, twinkledelimages...)
 * I'm sure you can come up with more
 * en.wp got this enabled at some point in the last day or so - watch their gadgets page for good ideas. – Mike.lifeguard  | talk 02:14, 5 December 2007 (UTC)

 * I think if it weren't for the problems you've mentioned that this would be a good extension to have. I think we should hold off until these bugs are fixed. --dark lama  03:02, 5 December 2007 (UTC)
 * This extension has been enabled in the german WP since 11/15. -- heuler06 (talk) 21:29, 9 December 2007 (UTC)
 * Forgive me for being slow but what is "11/15" - are there 15 months in your calender? Xania [[Image:Flag_of_Italy.svg|15px]]talk 21:32, 9 December 2007 (UTC)
 * 15 is the day... Nov 15 :) – Mike.lifeguard  | talk 21:35, 9 December 2007 (UTC)
 * Stupid me. Should have known :) Xania [[Image:Flag_of_Italy.svg|15px]]talk 21:41, 9 December 2007 (UTC)

A vote on activation of this extension is happening here. – Mike.lifeguard  | talk 01:18, 12 December 2007 (UTC)

As Raymond wrote in german WP the Gadget extension is enabled in all MediaWiki-Wikis of all languages now. see Special:Version :) -- heuler06 (talk) 14:27, 18 December 2007 (UTC)

Help with audio set up - for lessons
When in lessons I am not able to use the audio. Pop-up message indicates security settings do not allow download. Need assistance with where a first time user would need to go to find out how to get set up properly to use this functionality. Thanks!

 * Which book is this for? You likely need to check the security settings on your browser. I assume you are using Internet Explorer? Click "Tools", then "Internet Options", and make sure your settings allow you to download media files. If you give us more information about your browser (what browser, what version, etc), and more information about which book and which audio files, we will be able to help you more. --Whiteknight (Page) (Talk) 17:40, 23 December 2007 (UTC)

Human Physiology Wikibook: PDF file corrupted
Hello,

This is my first visit to the Wikibooks project. I apologize if I am posting this message in the wrong forum.

I tried several times to download the PDF version of your featured Wikibook "Human Physiology". I received the error message (paraphrase), " File is corrupt, unable to correct". I was unable to download this PDF file.

I am using an older computer (Windows 98) and an older version of Acrobat: Acrobat Reader 5. I hope this is not the problem.

Human Physiology is an excellent book. I read portions in the HTML format. However, I prefer the PDF format. I hope that this book will become available in this format.

Wikibooks is a noble project. I wish you much success in your endeavor.

Sincerely, AL DOM
 * The download worked for me; your software may be to blame. Try updating to the newest Acrobat version. I don't think the Windows version matters in this case. – Mike.lifeguard  | talk 21:31, 24 December 2007 (UTC)

Reporting vandalism

 * This message will be archived normally

I need help reporting a lewd and vulgar language on a page. Here is the link, http://en.wikibooks.org/wiki/Geometry/Chapter_3, geometry, chapter 3. Another thing is I didn't find it easy to report such a matter. —The preceding unsigned comment was added by 70.101.199.30 (talk • contribs).

 * Some vandalism in the Wikijunior/Ancient Egypt section by this IP address. I've reverted, but thought I'd bring it to attention if any admin feels it merits a block. Thanks, Νεοπτόλεμος 18:04, 29 December 2007 (UTC)

New "protection" option
Really a "heads up" in case folk don't know but with the new software version comes the ability to protect uncreated pages. At this point my views are somewhat mixed (here too). I feel that protecting spambot pages would be quicker that way but I rather like the fact that there is a "record" available for other cascade protected pages at WB:SALT. Thanks -- Herby talk thyme 12:00, 29 December 2007 (UTC)
 * Did a few recent bot pages so folks can see the effect (Special:Protectedtitles). Much quicker for spambot pages than the cascading protection but I would still favour other pages going in WB:SALT personally as it gives a more comprehensive accessible record -- Herby  talk thyme 13:01, 30 December 2007 (UTC)

Ancient Hebrew
Is it possible to create a seperate ebook for Ancient Hebrew?

 * It is possible, and if you are interested then we would love to help! Ancient Hebrew is a topic that is certainly worth some study, since many influencial documents are written in it. Do you have any ideas for the book? An outline or a general layout? Do we have any books/pages here already that you could "borrow" to help get this book off to a good start? Are there any Wikipedia articles that you could "borrow" from to help start your book? The sky is the limit for something like this, so let us know what you are thinking and we would love to help. --Whiteknight (Page) (Talk) 04:29, 31 December 2007 (UTC)


text:
The Rowers of Vanity Fair/1839-1854 New Traditions

1839 - 1854: New Traditions
By the yardstick of Boat Race or Henley Regatta participation, 1839 marks the earliest contest for the rowers of Vanity Fair for it was then that William Baliol Brett first rowed for the Cambridge in the Boat Race. (He rowed for the C.U.B.C. in 1837 and 1838 as well, but against Leander rather than Oxford as no university race took place those years.) To put him and the first few rowers of Vanity Fair in context, it helps to take a backward glance at “watermen” and “gentlemen.”

Water tradesmen carried people and goods in the days before motor vehicles and railways. They prospered in the Thames Valley and became so numerous that Henry VIII began regulating their fares in 1514 and Parliament incorporated their guild, the Company of Watermen and Lightermen, in 1555. Among the duties of the Company were, according to Guy Nickalls:

to draw up a scale of legal fares; to control in every manner the men who plied for hire on the river; to apprentice them; to see that they were capable of handling boats with safety to the passengers when they took up their freedom; to arm them, to ensure that their passengers were not murdered, assaulted or robbed; to issue licenses to lightermen; to renew licenses triennially to freemen; and generally to act the shepherd over a somewhat turbulent flock.

In short, watermen were the regulated taxi and lorry drivers of pre-industrial Britain, with certain tariff and police powers as well. It was among their ranks that the longest-running rowing event, Doggett’s Coat and Badge, was established in London. Named for the actor and the prize he bequeathed, the race first occurred on August 1, 1715, the anniversary of the accession of George I. (Handel’s Water Music dates to nearly the same time, composed at the request of George I for a concert on board barges rowed by watermen.)  Doggett’s Coat and Badge is still run annually from London Bridge to Chelsea, though the demise of professional watermen has necessitated some loosening of the entry criteria.

Gentlemen employed watermen and owned most of the goods they carried. In eighteenth century London, the growth of commerce created new rich merchants and financiers and attracted some landed aristocracy to town from around the country. This broad class of wealthy gentlemen, who built the theatres, gardens, and clubs of Georgian society, loved to gamble and by sponsoring wager matches among local watermen both were entertained and had the opportunity for betting. Some took to the water themselves, rowing with watermen on a recreational basis and relying on them for boat rental, boat-building, accommodation, and instruction. Such recreational rowing gave rise to the first gentlemen’s boat clubs, the Monarch Boat Club founded at Eton College in 1793 and the Isis Club at Westminster School a few years later, both named for the boats involved. (The school clubs were not formed until 1816 and 1813, respectively.) At Westminster a succession of headmasters discouraged rowing as it had led to a number of drownings, and in 1788 the use of watermen in all schoolboy crews was ordered as a safeguard. By then, recreational rowing had taken hold at Oxford and Cambridge, particularly as six-oared picnic transport, introduced by Eton and Westminster alumni. But gentlemen did not race, with or without watermen, as it was thought manual and demeaning and, at Eton and Westminster, because of the close association of professional wager matches to gambling and drinking.

In the early nineteenth century, gentlemen rowers began to distance themselves from watermen. The trend started at Eton, Westminster, and Oxbridge and spread gradually throughout the country. Eton dispensed with a waterman at coxswain starting in 1837; the Boat Race and Henley Regatta followed suit in 1839; and professional trainers and coaches were likewise marginalized over the next decade. This weaning was not without occasional intellectual challenge: when Oxford bought a radically new boat for the 1857 Boat Race, designed and built by a professional, Matthew Taylor, the O.U.B.C. had him “steer[] us during our training, not to instruct Oxford in the art of rowing, but to show us the proper way to send his boat along as quickly as possible.”

Also in the early nineteenth century, gentlemen began to rethink their self-imposed ban on racing. At Oxbridge, picnickers returning from a day out began vying with one another to be first back to the boatyard, the competition eventually giving birth to the college “bumping” races at Oxford around 1815 and at Cambridge in 1827. Other gentlemen crews began competing in wager matches, such as the 1826 “Grand Amateur Rowing Match for 200 sovereigns, for gentlemen picked from the various crack clubs on the river” in London. This event encouraged the staging of the first “away” match by an Oxford crew, from Christ Church College, against a composite eight from the Leander and Arrow clubs for the same purse. The Londoners won, as they did in 1831 when an Oxford University crew challenged Leander, also for 200 sovereigns.

Against this background Charles Wordsworth, nephew of the poet and son of the Master of Trinity College, Cambridge, orchestrated the first Boat Race in 1829. He later recalled it as only one of many “trifling and insignificant” sporting events he had helped organise at college. Living in Cambridge and studying at Oxford, he used his Harrow contacts to promote an inter-university cricket match in 1827, the success of which prompted him to suggest to his Cambridge friends the possibility of a boat race. They challenged and Oxford accepted, with Henley-on-Thames the agreed venue. Neither the Cam nor the Isis were wide or straight enough and the tidal Thames in London was considered too choppy to provide fair racing conditions. Henley offered a one mile straight course, wide enough to allow side-by-side racing with no blade clashes or fouling. Oxford won. There was no purse for the contestants but undoubtedly plenty of gambling.

In 1830 Cambridge challenged again, but the plans were dropped due to a cholera epidemic. The second match ultimately went off in 1836, this time in London from Westminster to Putney for a purse of four hundred pounds that Cambridge took home. The event became more or less annualized from 1839 onwards, without a purse, and in 1842 became designated a “race” rather than a “match” to reinforce the shift away from watermen, purses, and fouling.

A similar shift occurred at the Henley Regatta, founded in 1839. Initially it consisted of just two events: a Town Challenge Cup for watermen, with a £30 purse, and a Grand Challenge Cup for amateur gentlemen, no purse. Admission to the “Grand” was limited to eight-oared crews from “the Universities of Oxford, Cambridge, or London, the Schools of Eton and Westminster, the Officers of the two Brigades of Household Troops, or Members of a Club established at least one year previous to the time of entering” (i.e., Leander Club), with no watermen coxswains or fouling permitted. The regatta soon swelled with additional events for amateurs: the Stewards’ Challenge Cup for coxed fours (1841, it went coxless in 1873), the Diamond Challenge Sculls for single sculls (1844), the Silver Wherries for pair oars (1845, later renamed the Silver Goblets and Nickalls’ Challenge Cup), the Ladies’ Challenge Plate for eights (1845), the Visitors’ Challenge Cup for coxed fours (1847, it went coxless in 1874), the Wyfold Cup for coxed fours (1855, it too went coxless in 1874), and the Thames Challenge Cup for eights (1868). The regatta became Royal in 1851 under the patronage of Prince Albert. The one event for watermen, the Town Challenge Cup, was dropped in 1884.


text:
User talk:68.109.159.142

--AdRiley (talk) 19:43, 6 January 2008 (UTC)

title: User talk:68.109.159.142


text:
User talk:86.3.220.176

--AdRiley (talk) 19:45, 6 January 2008 (UTC)

title: User talk:86.3.220.176