Clio Fatidica.
by Edward Woodley Bowling

[NOTE. - The following lines were written to celebrate the 'bump' by which the Lady Margaret 1st Boat became "Head of the River" in 1871. On the next evening Professor Selwyn delighted the eyes and the hearts of all Johnians by sculling down the river to salute the Head of the River.    The title of psychroloutes [*] needs no explanation to those who know the Selwyns, who are no less renowned as swimmers than as oarsmen.]
"Tell me, Muse, what colour floateth round the River's ancient head:
Is it white and black, or white and blue, is it scarlet, blue, or red?"
Thus I prayed, and Clio answered, "Why, I thought the whole world knew
That the red of Margareta had deposed the flag of blue!
Babes unborn shall sing in rapture how, desiring Close [1] affinity,
Goldie, rowing nearly fifty, overlapped, and bumped First Trinity.
I myself was at the Willows, and beheld the victory won;
Saw the victor's final effort, and the deed of daring done.
I myself took off my bonnet, and forgetful of my years,
Patting Goldie on the shoulder, gave him three times thrice three cheers.
Ne'er, oh! ne'er, shall be forgotten the excitement of that night;
Aged Dons, deem'd stony-hearted, wept with rapture at the sight:
E'en the Master of a College, as he saw them overlap,
Shouted 'Well rowed, Lady Margaret,' and took off his College cap;
And a Doctor of Divinity, in his Academic garb,
Sang a solemn song of triumph, as he lashed his gallant barb;
Strong men swooned, and small boys whistled, sympathetic hounds did yell
Lovely maidens smiled their sweetest on the men who'd rowed so well:
Goldie, Hibbert, Lang, and Bonsey, Sawyer, Burnside, Harris, Brooke;
And the pride of knighthood, Bayard, who the right course ne'er forsook,
But the sight which most rejoiced me was the well-known form aquatic
Of a scholar famed for boating and for witticisms Attic.
Proud, I ween, was Lady Margaret her Professor there to view,
As with words of wit and wisdom he regaled the conquering crew.
Proud, I ween, were Cam and Granta, as they saw once more afloat
Their Etonian psychroloutes [*], in his "Funny" little boat.
Much, I ween, their watery spirits did within their heart's rejoice,
As they listened to the music of that deep and mellow voice.
Ah! 'tis well, to sing of boating, when before my swimming eyes
Baleful visions of the future, woes unutterable rise.
All our palmy days are over; for the fairer, feebler sex
Has determined every College in succession to annex;
And before another decade has elapsed, our eyes shall see
College Tutors wearing thimbles o'er convivial cups of tea.
For 'golden-haired girl-graduates,' with 'Dowagers for Dons,'
Shall tyrannize in Trinity, and domineer in 'John's.'
Then, instead of May Term races in the science grand of rowing,
There'll be constant competition in the subtle art of sewing.
Soon the modern undergraduate, with a feather in her hat,
Shall parade the streets of Cambridge, followed by her faithful cat.
From Parker's Piece and Former's shall be banished bat and wicket,
For crotchet work and knitting shall supplant the game of cricket,
Save whene'er a match at croquet once a Term is played at Girton
By the Members of "the College" and the Moralists of Merton.
Then no tandems shall be driven, and no more athletic sports,
Save fancy balls and dances, shall appear in "Field" reports:
And instead of 'pots' and 'pewters' to promote the art of walking,
We shall have a silver medal for proficiency in talking.
Wranglers fair shall daily wrangle, who no Mathematics ken;
Lady preachers fill the pulpit, lady critics wield the pen.
O ye gallant, gallant heroes who the River's head have won,
Little know ye what an era of confusion hath begun.
I myself shall flee from Cambridge, sick at heart and sorely vexed,
Ere I see my University disestablished and unsexed.'"
Thus she spake, and I endeavoured to console the weeping Muse:
"Dry your tears, beloved Clio, drive away this fit of blues.
Cease your soul with gloomy fancies and forebodings to perplex;
You are doing gross injustice to the merits of your sex.
Know you not that things are changing, that the Earth regains her youth,
Since Philosophers have brought to light the one primeval truth?
Long have all things been misgoverned by the foolish race of men,
Who've monopolized sword, sceptre, mitre, ermine, spade, and pen,
All the failures, all the follies, that the weary world bewails,
Have arisen, trust me, simply from the government of males.
But a brighter age is dawning; in the circling of the years
Lordly woman sees before her new 'ambitions,' new careers;
For the world's regeneration instantaneously began,
When Philosophers discovered the inferior claims of man.
With new honours Alma Mater shall eternally be crowned,
When the Ladies march in triumph, and her learned seat surround;
Then a nobler race of students, and of athletes shall arise,
Students fair who thirst for knowledge, athletes true who 'pots' despise.
It is well for thee, sweet Clio, at their harmless tastes to sneer,
At their love of cats and croquet, their antipathy to beer;
But as soon as every College has surrendered to the fair,
Life up here will be perfection, we shall breathe ambrosial air;
For the problem of past ages will be solved, and we shall find
The superior powers of woman, both in body and in mind.
She shall teach us how to study, how to ride, and run, and row;
How to box and play at cricket; how the heavy weight to throw;
How to shoot the trembling pigeon; how the wily rat to slay;
How at football and at racquets; how at whist and chess to play;
How to drive the rapid tandem; how to jump, and how to walk;
(For young women, trust me, Clio, can do something more than talk)
How to climb the Alps in summer; how in winter time to skate;
How to hold the deadly rifle; how a yacht to navigate;
How to make the winning hazard with an effort sure and strong;
How to play the maddening comet, how to sing a comic song;
How to 'utilize' Professors; how to purify the Cam;
How to brew a sherry cobbler, and to make red-currant jam.
All the arts which now we practise in a desultory way
Shall be taught us to perfection, when we own the Ladies' sway."
Thus I spake, and strove by speaking to assuage sweet Clio's fears;
But she shook her head in sorrow, and departed drowned in tears.
(1874).
[1] Mr. J. B. Close, a well-known oarsman, stroke of the First Trinity 1st Boat.
[*] [Transcriber's note: The word "psychroloutes" appears in the original book in Greek.    It has been transliterated from the Greek letters psi, upsilon, chi, rho, omicron, lambda, omicron, upsilon, tau, eta, and sigma.]