Chapter XXV: Part II (8)

As regards the anti-professional reason, it is impossible to say what would be the status of the Harvard nine if this rule had not been passed. Judging from the other college nines who annually play professionals for practice, there would be but little difference from what now exists. The difference, so difficult to discover on the ball field, exists chiefly in the minds of men whose knowledge of baseball is derived principally from discussions in the college Faculty meetings. Although it is difficult to surmise how even there such a discriminating distinction can be drawn between local unrestrained, would-be-but-couldn’t-be professionals, and the disciplined league players; the former eager by any means fair or foul, to score a point against the “college boys,” the latter playing a practice game simply as a business matter. The Harvard Faculty, it is presumed, do not approve of professional sparring as an avocation for students, but they have not yet forbidden undergraduates to take lessons of competent teachers, even although the latter may have occasionally fought a prize-fight; and such lessons are deemed even less contaminating, from a professional point of view, than would be friendly and unpaid bouts with celebrated locals who hoped in the future to enter the ring.

The position of the committee towards college football has been unique. Football in this country is a game still in a state of development, and the Harvard athletic committee have taken an active part in developing it in the right direction. In November, 1883, the attention of the committee was first called to a serious consideration of football. The game as played that fall was one of the roughest ever played in the country; and of a kind of roughness where brutality and unfair play were put at a premium. On Thanksgiving Day, Harvard was scheduled to play the final championship game with Yale on the Polo Grounds, New York. Imagine the chagrin and astonishment of the undergraduates when, on November 22, a letter was received from the committee by R. M. Appleton, the captain of the eleven, stating that Harvard would not be allowed to play any more intercollegiate games, until substantial changes in the rules were made. Some of these rules appeared to the committee “to allow of no other inference than that the manly spirit of fair play is not expected to govern the conduct of all players, but on the contrary, that the spirit of sharpers and roughs has to be guarded against. The committee believes that the games hotly played under these rules have already begun to degenerate from a manly, if rough, sport, into brutal and dangerous contests. They regard this as a serious misfortune in the interest of the game, which, if played in a gentlemanly spirit, may be one of the most useful college sports as a means of physical development. They regret that they did not give earlier attention to the character of these rules, and thus earlier come to the conclusion which they have now reached, namely, that the Harvard eleven cannot be allowed to take part in any further intercollegiate match games until substantial changes in the rules have been made.” The objectionable rules were:

Rule 19. The referee shall disqualify any player whom he has _warned twice for intentional_ off-side play, _intentional_ tackling in touch or _intentional_ violation of Rule 28.

Rule 28. No kicking, throttling, butting, tripping-up, tackling below the hips, or striking with closed fists shall be allowed.

Rule 38. No players shall _intentionally_ lay hands upon or interfere with an opponent unless he has the ball.

In other words, a man could intentionally knock down another player with a straight blow from the shoulder; he could do it again if he wished, but not until he had done it the third time could he be disqualified. It was to this and its practice that the athletic committee objected. Most of the New York papers sneered at it as “Harvard delicacy;” while a scatter-brained undergraduate, in an open letter in the _Crimson_, abused the committee for obliging our eleven to break its agreement, for robbing the Yale team of some $1,500, its expected share in the gate-money, and ended by solemnly declaring, “We sincerely hope that the time will sometime come when our feelings of honor will have some weight with the Faculty in its decisions.”

That the athletic committee, however, were not irredeemably lost to all consideration of the honor of the students and were not quite as prudish or unreasonable as the New York press represented them, was soon shown by their allowing the game to be played when the respective captains of the Harvard and Yale teams informed them that the objectionable rules had been changed. The important changes were that the referee was allowed to disqualify a player without any previous warning, and that no more than two disqualified men on either side should have their places filled by substitutes; also that no player should lay hands on or interfere with an opponent unless he had the ball. The game was played, and, as was expected, Harvard was beaten. The football of the succeeding year was fully as bad as it had been in 1883, and consequently there was a large body among the students ready to support the athletic committee when, at the close of the season, they announced that they considered the game as then played to be brutal and demoralizing, and on this account should request the Faculty to prohibit Harvard from playing it against other colleges. A short delay was granted before presenting this report in order to give the students a chance for a hearing; but no satisfactory results came from the delay, and in January, 1885, Harvard was forbidden to engage in any more intercollegiate football contests.

So much has been said and written about this action of the athletic committee, so much abuse has been heaped by the newspapers on the “Harvard dudes,” and so much misrepresentation has been spread abroad concerning the so-called “Harvard daintiness,” that it is only fair, even at this late date, to consider, for a few moments, what it was that influenced the committee in their action, and whether this Harvard daintiness was the result of an unmanly avoidance of the roughness of the game, or whether it was actuated by a feeling that no sport encourages true manliness when it has such an alloy of brutality and unfair play as football had at that period.

The committee had attended the four principal championship games of the season, and at each of these games they had stationed themselves in different parts of the field, in order to notice what seemed to be the objectionable features of the play. Their report says: “In every one of these games there was brutal fighting with the fists when the men had to be separated by other players, or by the judges and referee, or by the bystanders and the police. In addition there were numerous instances where a single blow was struck, instances that occurred in every one of the games. A man was felled by a blow in the face in the Harvard-Princeton game, in the Harvard-Yale game and in the Yale-Princeton game. In the Wesleyan-Pennsylvania game a man was thrown unfairly, out of bounds, by an opposing player. Then, as he was rising, but before he was on his feet, his antagonist turned, struck him in the face and knocked him down, and returned in triumph with the ball. In all of the games the manifestations of gentlemanly spirit were lacking--the spirit that scorns to take an unfair advantage of an opponent. The teams _played to win_ by fair means or by foul. If two teams are at all evenly matched, and one plays a gentlemanly and the other an unfair game, the self-respecting team will always be beaten.... In the four games which we attended there were but two cases where a player was punished for brutal or unfair play. In several cases the team was punished by having a ‘down’ given to the other side, but only twice was a man disqualified.”

In 1885 an important change was made in the personnel of the committee by increasing their number from three to five; of the five members two to be representative undergraduate athletes, one a recent graduate, one a physician, resident in Boston or in Cambridge, and the director of the gymnasium, who is also a member of the Faculty. The other colleges, urged on by a natural spirit of progress in the development of football, and spurred still further by the public attention which had been attracted to its abuses, had materially altered its character. The committee carefully watched it progress as shown in the championship contests between the other colleges, and after careful consideration, came to the conclusion that a decided change had taken place; that it had largely lost its brutality, and, although rough, its roughness was of a kind that often encouraged a manly spirit; that although still far from perfect, it was but in a transient stage of development, and that the new rules, with a few slight exceptions, had proved efficacious in regard to the evils they sought to remedy. They therefore recommended that the Faculty should allow Harvard to renew her intercollegiate games of football. The report was accepted and Harvard was reinstated in her position in the intercollegiate league.

Since the reinstatement of Harvard into the football league, no important action has been taken by the athletic committee. The committee have been much abused, and still more ridiculed, but a calm survey of the work they have done, however much one may differ with them on a few measures, must be convincing that they have been needed as a restraint upon the exceeding growth and concomitant abuses of athletics, and that their work has usually been successful.

The formation and growth of the different athletic organizations up to about 1882 formed by itself a distinct period in Harvard athletics; then began a new period, marked by their curtailment, or, more justly speaking, the curtailment of what seemed to be their abuses, by Faculty restrictions. Within the last few years has begun still a third period, marked by distinctly new athletic action; this is the curtailment by the students themselves of Harvard participation in intercollegiate athletics; a feeling that the intercollegiate athletic interests of the college have become too complicated and too cumbrous, and that action should be taken to restrain them.

When, in order to win an intercollegiate athletic meeting, it is necessary, as is the case, not only to send good athletes upon the field, but also to train good amateur detectives in order to ferret out unfair entries from other colleges, the time certainly has arrived when some sharp remedy should be applied. Often, it may be, these unfair entries are not sought by the college under whose colors they compete, they may be simply “mug hunters,” attracted by the rich prizes, and the wide reputation which attaches itself to an intercollegiate prize-winner; but, nevertheless, such entries are oftener and more easily made, and are more readily winked at when there are thirteen colleges and over two hundred entries, than when there are only two colleges and fifty entries. A clearly drawn distinction between college and non-college athletics is absolutely essential for the true welfare of college athletics, and this line it is hard to preserve in any large intercollegiate league.

Never yet has there been a large intercollegiate league in any important branch of athletics which has not been productive of bitter ill-feeling and charges of unfair play. The generous rivalry begun on the athletic field has far too often borne fruit at the conventions in underhand combinations worthy only of those political conventions of which they are cheap imitations, and too often victory on the athletic field must be preceded by a victory on paper, insignificant, perhaps, to the uninitiated, but which under its apparently harmless words conceals the future _coup d’état_ by which victory is to be won. The defeated team, smarting at the recognition that it has been tricked, is obliged quietly to submit or be taunted with not having pluck enough to accept defeat; or else it may carry on a wordy war which no one outside the college understands, which brings no satisfaction, and which usually ends in nothing being accomplished. This is followed the next year very naturally by a sullen determination to return the compliment, not only on the field but also in the convention. These disputes, this ill-feeling, this idea that victory even meanly won, is well won, are real troubles which must be guarded against. They are practical signs of a partial disappearance of the line which ought to separate professional from college athletics, and the origin of them is largely due to the existence of intercollegiate leagues.

No quack medicine in the shape of edicts against what the world calls “professionals,” will stop this tendency. Such attempts remind one of the nobleman who, because his son was nightly attacked by the nightmare, hung all the old women, so-called witches, in his neighborhood, instead of regulating the boy’s evening diet. Nor can the trouble be prevented by abolishing all intercollegiate contests. Such a remedy would be like cutting off a man’s hand in order to extract a splinter. This plan was proposed last spring in an eccentric report presented by a majority of the committee on athletics appointed by the board of overseers, but, nipped in the bud by its own apparent weakness, it was suffered to pass quietly out of sight. The Faculty, however, aroused by the fresh importance attached to the subject, appointed a committee to investigate thoroughly the entire athletic question; statistics were collected having reference to the general standing in college of athletic men, and the effect of athletic sports upon the colleges as a whole; and the conclusion reached was that, although several abuses still exist, they are greatly overestimated; that the physical standard of undergraduates has been greatly raised since the general introduction of athletics; that as a usual thing the rank of athletic men is higher than the average, and the report ended by recommending the authorities at once to secure fresh land for new athletic ground, and to build an addition to the gymnasium. This report representing--as concerns athletics--the most conservative college in the country, practically puts an end to the opposition to athletics as a factor in college life, and recognizes the fact that college intercollegiate contests will and ought to retain a permanent and important position in the college world.

Now that the Harvard authorities have at last given official recognition of the importance and permanency of college athletics, it is all the more important that these evils arising from intercollegiate leagues should be driven out of existence. The quickest and only thorough way of effecting this is for Harvard to withdraw from all intercollegiate leagues, and to confine her annual championship contests to Yale alone. There are many other reasons besides those given in this article why Harvard’s position in intercollegiate leagues acts as a drag upon her true interests; increased expenses both in training and traveling attendant upon so many championship contests; the longer time necessarily spent in preparation for matches not important in themselves, but which lost by accident would impair the chances of winning the championship; the element of chance in determining the winner of the intercollegiate track athletic games, ever increasing with the admission of so many smaller colleges which have no hope of ever securing first place. The only solution of the present athletic problem for Harvard is a withdrawal from the intercollegiate leagues. As the case now stands, in most branches of athletics the contest eventually narrows itself down to one final effort between Yale and Harvard. There is everything to gain and nothing to lose by the change. The idea is rapidly gaining ground at Cambridge: a free discussion of it in the college papers has only added new converts. Dissolution from all athletic leagues, practice games against the best teams in the country, and championship games with Yale alone, would cure many of the evils which seem to have attached themselves to Harvard athletics.

~Note.~--The illustrations of the different groups of
athletic, football, baseball, lacrosse, and other teams in this
series of articles on college athletics, are from photographs by
Pach Brothers, of 841 Broadway.

THE FAUN DANCE.

In gladsome grouping
The fauns come trooping,
With frolic steps and fleet.
The short crisp grasses,
As each one passes,
Rebound beneath his feet.

Now Pan goes trilling
A measure thrilling
With wild ecstatic mirth.
The fauns leap after,
With mad, sweet laughter,
Their footsteps kiss the earth.

The revel hushes
The shy brown thrushes;
They silent sit and peer.
With lithe limbs shining,
With arms entwining,
The fauns leap there, leap here.

The brown feet twinkle,
While harebells tinkle
In tune, with graceful nod.
The sun-flecks racing,
In antic chasing,
Seem dancing on the sod.

Light zephyrs swaying
The boughs, are playing
A soft Æolian air.
The owlet, rousing
From daytime drowsing,
Looks down with sleepy stare.

A cloud stoops o’er them;
Behind, before them
The pattering rain-drops fall.
Then, helter-skelter,
They fly for shelter
Beneath the oak-tree tall.

_M. E. Gorham._

MASK AND FOIL FOR LADIES.

BY CHARLES E. CLAY.

Among the infant nations of the world woman was expected to share the labors of the field with her lord. The exotic conditions of a pernicious civilization, as wealth accumulated and luxury grew, imposed trammels on woman and relegated her to the enervating confinement of the house in order that she might preserve a more delicate and pleasing form for the gratification of man returning after the day’s toil. Woman was, however, originally intended to be a much more competent companion and helpmate than the selfishness of man will concede.

So long as a community remained pastoral and nomadic, so surely did woman retain a physical development equal and perfect as that of her mate. Thus, we find that Atalanta was as fleet of foot as any of her male companions, and not until she allowed her cupidity to get the better of her judgment, while striving to secure the golden apples dropped by Hippomenes during the race, was she vanquished. That woman was once as skillful as man in the practice and art of venery, was symbolized by the fact that men did not deem it unworthy to worship a virgin huntress, and called upon Diana to lend them her knowledge and support in the chase. That war even claimed their services is evidenced by Herodotus and other ancient historians; and although the prowess of the doughty Amazons, who, in order that they might not be impeded in the use of the bow, mutilated their right breasts, may be in a great measure mythical, still such testimony goes to prove conclusively that woman, while perhaps not endowed with the same brute strength as man, can be his peer in most games, pastimes and recreations that call for dexterity and quickness of hand, foot and eye.

No one can gainsay the fact that the long-continued seclusion of our fair sisters from sports and exercises has undoubtedly much deteriorated the physical stamina of the female race, at least in civilized countries. They are not capable of undergoing the fatigue, exertion and exposure nature intended they should; they are the victims of many ailments that have become hereditary to their sex simply from inaction. They are not (I am talking now of the upper and leisure classes of civilized society more especially) in as thoroughly a healthy physical condition to sustain the burdens of maternity and its consequent strain upon the system as they ought to be, as it was intended by nature that they should be, and as they undoubtedly would be, if healthy exercise was more universally prevalent among the sex. If any reader doubts this statement he has only to analyze the statistics of any European nation that bear upon this subject to be convinced.

Happily, the baneful results of an indoor life of inaction have been realized before its effects have become ineradicable, and the growing superiority of the physical development of the Anglo-Saxon over her Latin sister is due chiefly to the revival of athletic outdoor exercise among the women of this family. English girls may surely claim the lead in the good work of athletic regeneration. They are closely followed by their fair sisters and rivals on this side of the Atlantic, and both are head and shoulders ahead of the daughters of France, Germany, and the other Continental nations. I will not waste words in contrasting the physical condition of the women of the West with the deplorable state of the sex in the East. It would be an insult to Christianity.

FIRST POSITION. SECOND POSITION.]

I need hardly enumerate the rich catalogue of sports, games and recreations that claim the attention of our enlightened sisters of to-day, but this much I will say, that there is not an exercise that will repay a girl so well, and at the same time rouse her enthusiasm and enjoyment so thoroughly as the practice of fencing--and in that term I include the handling of foil, broadsword and single-stick. In considering the art of fencing in the present article I shall not attempt to give any instruction in the rudiments or the more finished evolutions of the science, because, in the first place, to treat only the principal thrusts and parries would occupy more space than I have at my command, and in the second, _fencing cannot be learned from the book_. One lesson from a competent _maitre d’armes_ will effect more than the perusal of a volume. I shall, however, endeavor to point out the beneficial results to be reaped from the exercise, to create a feeling, if possible, that fencing ought really to be an indispensable necessity of a young lady’s complete physical education, and to offer a few hints and suggestions as to the best means of learning and enjoying the art, as well as the proper dress and equipment to be employed.

Fencing, then, may be popularly defined as the art and science of attack and defense, the weapon used being the foil for pleasure, and the rapier in a duel of deadly intent. The attack consists of a number of thrusts, points and lunges, the latter being an extension of the thrust. The defense is the art of warding off an adversary’s thrusts by evolutions, termed guards or parries. It is also admissible to advance the whole body while dealing thrusts or to assist the execution of the guard by a timely retreat. The participation in this exercise by two persons is called a “bout,” or a “passage,” with the foils, and when one line of assailants faces another, fencing two and two, this general bout is distinguished as an assault of arms.

The exercise will give to the carriage and general poise of the body a grace, dignity and freedom, with majesty of step and mien to be attained in a like degree by no other means. Some finniking miss will, perhaps, venture that dancing and the idiotic steps of deportment taught by a mincing Frenchman is all the setting up that a young lady properly brought up should require; but there is just as much difference in the walk of a young lady who has been well drilled in a _salle d’armes_ and a dancing-school miss as there is between the walk of a lithe young panther and a cat stepping over hot bricks. In fencing, every part of the body is brought into play. The strain on the wrist, and the rapid movements with the foil work every muscle in the shoulder and forearm. The quick advance and hasty retreat develop the lower limbs. The tension of the whole body brings into healthy action the internal organs. The chest expands, the lungs are quickened and produce a stronger circulation; the whole frame is invigorated, hardened, strengthened and braced up. Moreover, exercise with the foils does not abnormally develop one member, or one set of muscles to the detriment of others equally important. For, as Captain Nicholas, of the New York Fencers’ Club, very happily expressed it to me, “fencing rather places the muscles of the body in the very best position to perform their several functions to the best advantage.” That some pastimes, notably lawn tennis, will develop one member to an inordinate degree, if pursued to excess, is proved by the experience of many of the fashionable dressmakers, one of whom assured me not long ago, that since the general craze for tennis among her customers she has found it necessary to measure _both_ arms and shoulders of her most ardent tennis-playing _clientèle_, as she finds as much as three to four inches difference in the deltoid and biceps measurements of the playing arm. And many of my lady friends have assured me that since taking up tennis they have found it impossible to put on the right hand the mate of the glove that snugly fits their left. In fencing this cannot occur, for the lessons are always given equally with left and right hand holding the foil.

To prove that this healthy exercise is one of the very best means that can be employed to efface the serious effects to the lungs and heart involved by a narrow contracted chest and stooping shoulders, let me instance the experience of one of the young Viennese lady fencers at present with Professor Hartl’s accomplished troupe, as Fraulein A. related it to me herself. “Oh, no; it is not at all for the money that I continue to remain with Professor Hartl, neither did I join his excellent school in Vienna with the idea of ever going before a public audience, but I first took up fencing on my doctor’s orders, and the wonderful results in the improvement of my health from this training made me loth to quit the exercise.” “You would hardly think,” said the fraulein, smiling archly at me as I surveyed her plump and comely figure, “that barely twelve months ago I was so puny and sickly a creature that I could not rise from my chair nor walk across the room without assistance. I stooped like a broken-down old woman, my chest was so hollow and bent inwards that it was pain for me to draw a breath, and I was troubled all the time with a dry, hacking cough that was as distressing to my dear mother as it was painful to me. I had been for months in the doctor’s hands and nothing bettered by his treatment, though he was one of the leading physicians in Vienna. At last he told my mother that if I did not mend shortly she would be childless (for I am her only child), and as a last resource he would recommend my being sent to Professor Hartl’s fencing school. My mother was astounded, and demurred; but I, like some drowning wretch catching at a straw, was bent on going, and carried the day. I was conveyed to his _salle d’armes_ in a carriage. The professor was very kind and prescribed a course of exercise as gentle and easily progressive as it was judicious. In three weeks I could walk, breathe and move my limbs as well as any of the other girls. Then my lessons with the foil commenced--very short and very feeble attempts they were at first, I can tell you, but I grew stronger and heartier every day. I became straight and strong, my chest became full, and my shoulders humped no longer. I had such an appetite, too, that my mother was appalled. Then the professor made arrangements to come to America. The doctor told me the sea voyage would be most beneficial. My mother reluctantly consented as I wanted much to see this great country. _Ainsi me voici, monsieur!_” Pretty conclusive evidence that, I take it, as regards the benefits of fencing to a weak constitution.

Let us now consider the subject of the most suitable costume to wear while taking a turn with the foils. In the first place let me say that, as a general thing, young ladies fashionably dressed in the prevailing styles are not properly attired even for a walk to do them any real good from an athletic point of view. The waist is too tightly laced. The bodice is worn too tight at shoulders and in the sleeves to give the freedom of play necessary for arms and shoulders, to walk beneficially. The dresses are “pulled back” to such a degree that they cramp the forward movement of hip and knee. The abominable shoes, with a tiny heel, with head no bigger than a dime, planted almost in the middle of the foot, tilt the body forward in such a manner that it becomes a miracle why ladies don’t pitch forward more often on their noses. Besides, this abnormal elevation of the heel throws the whole weight of the body on the ball and toe of the foot, causes a fearful strain on the instep and the extensor muscles of the leg, and throws all the posterior muscles of the calf and ankle out of use.

Such being the case of affairs, my advice to a young lady commencing to fence would be: Discard all the impedimenta and addenda, especially the latter, with which you so successfully break “the continuity of beauty’s lines and curves” on the street. Don a skirt of flannel, velvet or tweed that is moderately heavy, _i. e._, heavy enough to stay down without being weighted at the bottom with leads. The skirt should be amply kilted or plaited to a good broad, strong band, which when fastened round the waist should act the part of a man’s gymnasium belt. The plaits, of course, should be made so that they open easily at the bottom to allow the easy and rapid advance of the leg. The length may be left to the good taste and judgment of the wearer, only don’t have it made so long that when extended at your full length in the lunge the skirt will trail round the heel of the rear foot, for if this is the case you may be apt to step on the skirt as you recover to the “en garde” position.

Another style of dress much in vogue, and especially approved by ladies of the theatrical profession, is the divided skirt. Any one who has seen pretty Rosina Vokes in this costume will readily recognize that when properly made and artistically managed it gives the greatest scope for perfect freedom of action with the acme of grace in movement. But the plain kilted skirt is the simpler and more natural garment, and I recommend it to young ladies who practice fencing as an amusement and occasionally cross foils with their brothers or their male friends.

It is absolutely necessary that the upper portion of the figure should be well supported, and for this purpose a short underwaist reaching barely to the waistband of the skirt should be worn. This should be made of some twilled or ribbed material and laced snugly down the back, but should not contain whalebone or steel of any kind. I believe they are known as corset-waists. The ordinary steel corsets extend too low over the hips and are apt to be inconvenient when lunging. A good, elastic, silk jersey is the very best thing for a waist. But let it give ample room under the arms and across the chest. Many girls wear a simple blouse or sailor jacket, and they are very serviceable; but the jersey is preferable, inasmuch as it clings closely to the arm and the foil is not so likely to get caught in the sleeve as is apt to happen with a sailor-jacket sleeve. Let the throat be bare and wear no collar. Nothing, in fact, that will come above the neck of the plastron, or chest shield. Be shod with tennis shoes; they are better than high boots, because they allow more play to the ankle. If leather soles are worn it will be well to rub them liberally with some preparation that will prevent the foot slipping.

The accoutrements necessary are a plastron, or chest shield, mask, gauntlets, and a foil. The plastron is generally of finely dressed leather, quilted chamois leather, padded canvas or buckram. All these equally serve their purpose, which is to protect the chest when sharply struck with the button of the foil. They are made of various thicknesses and weights. Those thickly quilted and cotton stuffed, of course, insure perfect immunity from the blow, but they are ungainly, heavy-looking coverings, and for ordinary practice, I think a stout canvas or leather plastron will be found to be all that is required. They slip over the shoulders on which the straps rest, are cut out under the armpits, and are buckled at the back or side; if at the side, better on the left. They should fit closely round the neck and lie perfectly flat upon the chest.

In choosing the gauntlets care should be taken to have the fingers, and especially the thumbs, thoroughly well padded. They should be perforated in the palm, and the wrist shield should be stiff and extend half-way up to the elbow. The mask must fit easily and comfortably well over the head and completely under the chin, protecting as much as possible the throat as well. The foil should be of best tempered steel and, for young girls particularly, as light as possible. The French make the best fencing paraphernalia, and if a young lady wants to get a thoroughly serviceable equipment, my advice would be to take counsel with some experienced male fencing friend on the selection, or perhaps better, to go to one of the leading _maitres d’armes_ and trust him to get the complete outfit. One caution, and a most serious one I will emphasize, which every fencer, young or old, expert or tyro, should always bear in mind, and that is, _never use a foil until you have thoroughly satisfied yourself that the button is firmly on the point_, and that it is well covered. Negligence in this important particular may risk life. I vividly recall an instance that occurred in the class of Professor Angelo, of London, of which I was a member at the time. We were awaiting the advent of our teacher, being, as boys are very apt to be, a little before the appointed hour. Two of my classmates, donning masks and gauntlets but no plastrons, took their foils and were soon engaged in a furious bout, all the more earnest because of the keen rivalry that existed between them. Both were fairly expert fencers, and thrust and lunge and parry and feint succeeded with lightning rapidity. Suddenly young C---- received his adversary’s foil full on the chest, and with a sharp cry of anguish staggered backward, dropping his foil and falling heavily into a chair: a ghastly pallor overspread his face and a small red stream of blood trickled slowly from his parted lips. We hurried to him and hastily divested him of waistcoat and shirt, which we found stained with blood. We laid bare the chest and found a nasty livid-looking puncture just above the nipple of the left breast. The poor boy never spoke again, and before we could summon medical aid he expired. The cause of this tragedy was found to be that his opponent’s foil had lost its button; whether it was off before they engaged or was knocked off during the bout could not be ascertained, but the moral is easy to point. Never skylark with foils, broadswords or single-sticks, unless you are thoroughly dressed and prepared for the bout.

The proper method of holding the foil, as well as the correct position to assume, I quote from Mr. Van Schaick’s excellent article on fencing which appeared in ~Outing~ for October, 1887:

The body must be placed so as to present a profile to the adversary. The right foot forward, the right arm half bent, with the elbow at the distance of about ten inches from the body, the left foot some twenty inches behind the right and at right angles to it. The knees bent, the body erect and well poised on the hips, but a trifle more on the left than on the right, so as not to interfere with the right leg when “lunging.” The general position must be such that the shoulders, the arms and the right leg will have the same direction towards the adversary; the purpose is to cover the vital parts and facilitate the lunge. The right arm, half bent, the wrist at the height of the breast, and the point of the foil at that of the eye. The left hand must be at the height of the head, the fingers well rounded, the thumb free. The head erect, looking in the direction of the right shoulder. The eyes fixed frankly on those of the adversary. The whole posture must be free and easy.

Advance takes place when the contestants are too far apart; retreat when too near. In order to advance, carry the right foot forward without in any way disturbing the position of the body or that of the sword, and bring immediately the left foot within its proper distance of the right (twenty inches). In order to retreat, carry the left foot backwards without in any way disturbing the position of the body or that of the sword, and bring immediately the right foot within its proper distance of the left.

The foil must be held so that the hand will take the direction of the forearm, and the point of the blade will be at the height of the eye. Hold the foil very firmly only when thrusting or parrying; if you grasp it tightly during a bout of any length, the muscles of your hand will become cramped and will prevent your handling the foil with the necessary delicacy.

The hand can assume three different positions when thrusting or parrying.

(1.) In _quarte_, where the palm is uppermost.

(2.) In _tierce_, where the knuckles are uppermost.

(3.) And in _six_, where the thumb is uppermost and the fingers are on the left; this last position is also called _middling_.

And to this article I refer all my young lady readers and fencers, but recommend you, as he himself would, to go to a master first and study his instructions as an aid to your maitre’s practical teaching.

There are a number of excellent teachers of fencing in New York. Among the best will be found Captain Nicholas, of the New York Fencers’ Club; Mons. Regis Senac, of the New York Athletic Club; Mons. Tronchet, of the Manhattan A. C., and Mons. Louis Rondell, of the Knickerbocker Fencing Club. The last two named gentlemen are graduates of the celebrated French Military Academy, at Joinville-les-Ponts, France, the highest authority on this subject in the world.

A last point I will make ere I close. Learn fencing, if for no other reason, at least as an additional means of protection and self-defense in case of a sudden emergency.

Although you, my fair sisters, may not be called upon to defend yourselves against the murderous attacks of drunken or lawless ruffians, yet instances are on record where women have been compelled literally to fight for the lives of themselves and their children. With the knowledge and practical experience gained in the _salle d’armes_, or the friendly bouts with foil and single-stick that helped to while away a winter afternoon, they have been able to hold their own, nay, even to come off victorious in a contest in which the stakes were life against life. I remember an instance of such a nature which, when told round the jovial mess-table, with clinking glasses and flashing lights and bursts of jocund laughter, hushed every tongue and caused the breath to come with panting gasps from breasts suffocating with feelings of hatred and vengeance.

A gay young subaltern returning to India after his first leave of absence, brought with him a tall, fair flower of English girlhood, gathered from a quiet vicarage away in Devonshire. Passing her life in the free enjoyment of the glorious English air, taking long rambles o’er fen and field and wold with her father, or joining in the more hardy sports by flood and field when her brothers were home for the holidays, she had built up a constitution that defied the weather and had acquired a freedom of action, a superb grace of deportment that would have been the envy of the sylvan Diana. She was a perfect horsewoman, a capital shot with gun and pistol, and could give points to most of her brothers at pool or billiards. Mrs. K---- had been well drilled in fencing and single-stick practice, and was passionately fond of the pastime; often after the early morning parade the young husband would invite some one or other of his brother officers to their cool bungalow veranda, where many a lusty bout was fought by the ardent young swordswoman, while the happy husband laughed merrily at the discomfiture of his warrior brothers.

But this pleasant scene was soon to change. Rumors of the deadly mutiny raging in Bengal were brought to the out-of-the-way cantonment. The swarthy Punjaubees, who a month or two before had paraded so quietly and calmly, and were so alert to obey orders, came now to drill or stables with dogged step and sullen brow.

It was an anxious time for every one. The officers were keenly alive to the volcano on which they trod, yet dared not show any semblance of fear or mistrust. All ammunition was carefully removed to the mess-house, and the sabres and lances of the men (for Lieutenant K----‘s was a cavalry regiment) were only issued for parade, when every officer carried loaded revolvers and a goodly stock of cartridges. At last, one morning, the regiment was paraded to attend the funeral of a young officer who had sickened and died. The men had already drilled that morning, and as they mustered for the funeral, ominous signs of disorder and disaffection were rife. With heavy and anxious hearts the little knot of officers gathered to perform the last sad rites to their dead comrade. But they were destined never to complete their mournful task. Just as the adjutant had formed the parade and the officers were awaiting the coming of the colonel, at a given signal, preconcerted doubtless, the entire regiment broke ranks and stampeded helter-skelter over the parade-ground.

The majority of the mutineers hurried to their huts, and gathering together all their chattels decamped as soon as possible to join the headquarters of insurgent sepoys. But a band of more desperate characters, longing to steep their hands in English blood, and eager to join their revolted brethren with the prestige born of some glaring deed of butchery, hastened to the colonel’s residence, where the only two ladies of the regiment were known to be. Most of the officers were at the bungalow of their deceased comrade, which was situated on the opposite side of the parade-ground. The adjutant and the officers on parade retreated, immediately on the outbreak, to the mess-house, which had been prepared for defense in anticipation of just such an occurrence. The colonel, coming from the orderly room, took in the status of affairs and hastened to join the mess-house defenders.

In the meanwhile the ladies had been watching the forming of the parade from the colonel’s private smoking den, where there was littered in truly masculine chaos the thousand and one articles with which a keen sportsman and soldier loves to surround himself--a well selected battery of rifles and shotguns, half a dozen pig spears, a varied and choice assortment of hunting-knives, powder-flasks, bullet moulds, rods and whips, and crops of all descriptions were everywhere. Hanging in a little more order and by themselves were the colonel’s military accoutrements, a couple of cavalry sabres, a pair of pistols, an old sabretache, and an extra set of bits and bridles. The ladies gazing out from this sportsman’s snuggery saw with a thrill of horror the stampede, witnessed the hurried retreat of the officers to the mess-bungalow, and before their dazed senses realized the awful catastrophe saw some half-dozen yelling sowars making for the house in which they were. The colonel’s wife, perceiving the peril with which they were threatened, uttered one piercing shriek and fell fainting on the floor. But young Mrs. K. was made of sterner stuff. She, too, saw the danger, but it stirred her to action: Self-reliant and heroic by nature, she rose grandly to the occasion. No help was to be expected from the servants. Peons, kitmutgar, syces and chokras all had fled. But not a moment was to be lost. As she dashed frantically to the entrance, and as she closed and bolted the teak doors, she heard menaces that chilled the very marrow in her bones. She flew to every window and barred the blinds--poor weak defenses at best!--yet the breaking of them would gain a moment’s respite for her to prepare for the attack. She then retreated to the room in which the colonel’s wife still lay as she had fallen. There was no time to care for her. Mrs. K. took down the heavy cavalry pistols and ascertained with delight that they were loaded. She next drew the heavy barrack-table in front of her fallen friend and facing the door. Placing the pistols at hand on the table, she took down from a peg on the wall the mask with head protector used for broadsword exercise, and as she adjusted the cumbrous thing over her bonny waves of golden hair, she thought sadly of the pleasant bouts she had had with the bluff old gentleman whose property it was, and how the gallant soldier would puff and blow in his attempts to make good his cranium against the blows which she rained with lightning rapidity on each exposed point.

Heavy blows on door and windows cut short her meditations, and selecting the lighter of the two sabres (made more to wear at dress parades or levées than actual warfare) the brave girl took up her position behind the table. The fiends did not keep her waiting long. The stout old veranda chairs, hurled with the force of battering rams by the strong arms of the now thoroughly infuriated natives, soon wrenched the door from its hinges, and with a thundering crash it fell inwards, creating havoc with the dainty little tables, with their delicate bric-a-brac. She heard the exulting shout of the troopers and the tramp of their heavy boots as they scoured the house in search of their intended victims. With dauntless mien and white lips the young wife grasped the pistol, and with one short muttered prayer for him she loved, awaited the supreme moment. A rush--a heavy thud as of bodies hurled against the door--a smashing of wood, and four burly sowars tumbled headlong into the room. As the first sepoy with a horrid oath picked himself hastily up, Mrs. K.’s pistol was discharged within a dozen feet of the would-be murderer’s breast, and with a choking sob the ruffian fell backwards. Instantly catching up the second weapon she fired at the advancing trio. Another howl of anguish told that the true ball found fatal lodgment. She seized her sabre as the table was overturned, and found herself hotly assailed by the two surviving troopers. Skillfully she parried the savage onslaught. With the rage of baffled demons they plied her with a perfect hailstorm of blows regardless of method or science. Some she eluded by her activity, some she caught on the frail blade she wielded, and she felt that some had wounded her on arm and side. She grew faint and dizzy--a black mist spread before her darkening eyes. She staggered--reeled--and fell upon the still unconscious form of Mrs. P. A hoarse shout from behind arrested the murderers. They turned one moment. It was their last. A couple of pistol-shots rang out, and the assassins fell dead on the bodies of their antagonist.

The rescue is easily explained. When the officers perceived the attack was meant for the colonel’s house, and that the mess-house was comparatively safe, the colonel, adjutant, and a couple of others rushed after the attacking mutineers, and arrived in time to turn the tables on the dastardly cowards. The whole affray, assault, defense, and vengeance, was enacted in less moments than it takes to read the account. Mrs. K. recovered after long months of illness, and is now living among the scenes of her childhood.

SPORT--PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE.

BY ALEXANDER HUNTER.