Everyone knows about the ancient tradition of rowing that is an integral part of Cambridge. Not everybody knows however of the legend of the Hound of Chesterton.

It is said that many years ago a man who could have been the topmost rower of all time, was consumed by anger at losing and excessive pride at winning. He therefore lived a very short life and died of a heart attack at the tender age of 22.

Everybody mourned him but deep down they were relieved: “Gosh” they said “I am so sorry about Charles, but boy did he bark into my ears loudly whether we were winning or losing… I must admit I couldn’t stand the guy! I’m telling you man, I’m not sorry he’s gone”.

This statement, uttered to general mumbles of agreement at the young man’s funeral, so angered the spirit, who was still hovering around, that he refused to take the free happy spirit way to the Beyond and instead decided to stay. He was incorporeal however, and could only be seen, apparently fuming, pacing up and down along the riverside at midnight, just after the pub in Chesterton which now is no more.

It is said however, that in his fury, sometimes he succeeds in manifesting during the day in the form of a terrible black dog, who barks relentlessly at all passing rowers hounding them and running up and down after them for miles.

As Legend has it, if the Hound of Chesterton barks at you, you had better dig at those oars and get a win, lest the Hound haunt your nightmares for years to come.