GOLFING LITERATURE

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLI, Issue 5, 29 July 1908, Page 52

GOLFING LITERATURE

By

F. KINLOCK

It is a rather curious and significant /act that in these latter days there is more written about golf than about any other game —the term game is used advisedly in contradistinction to sport. Yet this literature of golf is almost in its infancy; for the first really important book on the subject, Mr Robert dark's historic work, 'Golf: a Royal and Ancient Game,” was published as late as 1875. Nowadays books dealing with various branches of this great game appear with clock-like regularity, and there is no end to the ordinary golfing article; though, indeed, we see a marked family likeness to each other in many of them.

Why is it that this new field has only of late been discovered by the litterateur and the journalist, and in what lie its capacities? Golf is on old game —how old no one may authoritatively assert. In the opening chapter of one of the books which it is our pleasant duty to notice, Mr Everard’s “History of the Royal and Ancient Golf dub of St. Andrews,” Mr James Cumiugham, who contributes this chapter by special request, seems to prove fairly conclusively that we may look to Holland for its origin; and yet the editor of a well-known golfing journal gives this theory but scant approval. Here, therefore, we have all the bones of a fine controversy. Perhaps it is the capacity which golf lends itself to for intricate controversial arguments, such as the abolition of the stimy, the merits and demerits of links or clubs or balls, which appeals to the scribbler. {Perhaps it is because golf is more than a mere pastime; it is a game which preeminently brings out character. And be it said that it does not always bring out the best traits; often, indeed, does ■the veneer of civilisation disappear, and the worst traits of a man’s inner soul are brought to life. Men who have gone through life with a well-earned reputation for strict integrity have begn knowrt to yield to the temptation—if no one is looking—of removing an offending obstacle in a hazard; men whose language in ordinary life is always refined and temperate have been heard hurling the most horrible curses at the unoffending ball; men who have faced death cheerfully will tremble over a simple putt. But” on the other hand, it brings out sterling qualities, sueh as pluck, endurance, self-restraint, moderation in all things, good-fellowship. Herein lie some of the many charms of the game; and writers thereof have made, and continue to make, the most of a game which so bares the human soul to view.

It is the custom to say that the undoubted improvement in golf-playing is due principally to the introduction of the rubber-cored ball. The writer is firmly of opinion that this improvement began much earlier, being, indeed, contemporaneous with the influx of golf over the border into England. Men, especially those to whom the game was new, thought deeply about it, and did not accept as true the theory that because our ancestors played with a certain kind of club, it was, therefore, the right one. The dim idea that we were playing with the wrong kind of club was crystallised by the late Mr. Henry Lamb’s invention —or call it what you will —of the “bulger.” Now qua “bulge” there was nothing in the club. Some clever verses which appeared in the now defunct “.Scots Observer” aptly define its merits: — From him that heeleth from the heel, Or teeth from the toe, The bulger doth his vice conceal, His drive straight on doth go. To him who from the toe doth heel, Or from the heel doth toe, The bulger doth his faults reveal, And bringeth grief and woe. And the poor slicer’s awful fate, Who doth a-ibulging go, Is sad indeed to contemplate— Tire bud-ger is his foe. But whoso plays the proper game, His ball who striketh true, He findoth all clubs much the same— A goodly thing to do.

Bulgers and mashies, presidents, Are for weak players made, As spectacles and crutches be For eyes and limbs decayed. This last verse has a special interest irrespective of the truth which underlies it, in the reference to the “president.” This was a niblick with a hole in the blade, which was supposed to have special virtues in a bad lie. It was dedicated nomine to the Right Hon. John Inglis, Lord President of the Senate and Court of Justice in Scotland, perhaps the most learned judge that has ever occupied that exalted position. He was one of the keenest golfers imaginable, and very well known in old days at St. Andrews and Musselburgh. Pity is it that the club named after him should have had so short a life, for one never sees them now. THE SHAPE OF THE BULGER CLUB-HEAD, w'hich was convex, necessitated a much shorter, fatter head than the old-fash-ioned one. Then it was evolved that supple shafts did not suit the new shape. Shafts became more “steely,” and men began to discover that they could hit much harder. Thus insensibly the methods and style of play changed; the game became more forceful because the clubs could stand a greater strain. It is from this time (about 17 years ago) that extraordinary cluibs and balls began to be patented, and the date coincides more or less with the coming of golfing literature. All this, however, is a digression from the work on hand, which is to notice briefly four books recently published, which form a notable addition to a golfing library. These , are “The History of the Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St. Andrews,” by H. S. C. Everard (Wm. Blackwood and Son); “The Life of Tom Morris,” by W. Tulloch, D.D. (T. Werner Lawrie, London) ; “The History of the Glasgow Golf Club,” by James Colville (John Smith and Son, Glasgow); and “The Spirit of the Links,” by Henry Leach (Methuen and Co., London). The first two deal almost exclusively with St. Andrews, indeed, act in some degree as complements to each other, Dr. Tulloch’s book filling in gaps in the golfing life of the early and mid Victoria eras which Mr. Everard, who has relied solely on the minutes of the club, has left more or less untouched. Mr. Everard’s book is of more than merely local interest, especially appearing as it does contemporaneously with one of those periodic movements when the. eyes of golfers not only in England, but in the United States, are directed towards the Royal and Ancient Golf Club in her capacity of golf-law making. Critical eyes some of them are; for it is said, and with a modicum of truth, that the rules of golf as they stand at present are in places somewhat cumbersome and involved, while at the same time they do not cover points which are continually cropping up. It is well in this connection to note that the club has recently extended the right hand of fellowship to golfers on the other side of the water by inviting a representative and former president of the United States. Golfing Association, who is also member of the “R. and A.,” to a seat on the Rules of Golf Committee—that committee which decides knotty points for golfers all the world over, and which at this very time is engaged in the simplification of the code. The invitation has been accepted. The “Royal and Ancient,” as one may gather from its history, has always been very jealous for the game of golf and for the grand links of St. Andrews, and we may safely trust her present representatives to maintain the traditions of their forebears. Mr. Everard’s book is NO MERE DRY-AS-DUST CHRONICLE of the club’s history; it is as well the story of golf as played at St. Andrews from time immemorial. He tells how the right to play at golf is reserved to the community in a deed dated 1552, wherein the city of St. Andrews gives license to one John, Archbishop of St. Andrews-

“to plant and plenish cuningis (rabbits) at the north end of the links.” From this extract he draws the deduction that golf had evidently been played for years before. Then through the ecenturies he traces the existence of the gain eby extracts from old diaries (some of them most quaint and amusing- reading) and from kirk-session records, and by these we may gather that the question of Sunday golf was vexing the souls of the “unco guid” as early as the 17th century. Finally, we come to the origin of the “Royal and Ancient” in 1754: “On the 14th May, 1754, twenty-two noblemen and gentlemen, being admirers of the ancient and healthful exercise of the golf, met together- and drafted certain articles and laws in playing the same.” In these words is the genesis of the premierclub recorded, and the names of the subscribers have a familiar sound down to the present day. Having settled their laws, they proceeded to subscribe for a silver club, which was to be open to all and sundry in Great Britain and Ireland. This was, in fact, the first open championship. But the method of deciding it was for the first five years so complicated that it passes even Mr Everard’s ingenuity to understand how the system was carried into operation. At any rate, it was found to be unsatisfactory, for the present method of scoring by strokes was instituted five years later, in 1759. It should be said tliat at first the winning of the silver club carried with it the captaincy of the club, and' it may be that some undesirable individual gained that honour, for in 1773 the competition w-as limited to members of the St. Andrews Golfing Society, and those of the Leith Golfing Society (the present Honourable Company of Edinburgh Golfers). This is a delightful proof of the early intimate relations which existed and still exists between the two great Scottish clubs. In those early days there were twentytwo holes at St Andrews —eleven holes out and eleven in, the same holes of course being played both ways. The last hole was called the Hole o’ Hill, and the name suggests that the last green was situated farther up the hill than the present one -—nearer, indeed, the site of the Martyrs’ Monument. If so, there would be plenty of space for a hole midway between the Swilean Burn and the Home Hole; but this is mere conjecture. It should be said that an eighteen hole course was made in 1764. There w-ere giants in the golfing world in those days, even as in ours, and chief among them was Mr James Durham, of Largo. It was in 1767 that he won the silver club with a score of ninety-four. “A truly remarkable score,” says Mr Everard, “when we consider that it was made in a sort of palaeolithic age of golf, when the clubs, to judge by the specimens extant, bore about the same relation to those of to-day as flint and steel to a wax match.” Moreover, the links were practically an untrodden waste, so that the more we think of it the more does this performance appeal to us as being almost superhuman. The best comment that can be made on it is the fact that it remained a record for eightyeight years. Mr James Durham has other claims to fame. Everyone knows that Edinburgh is nicknamed “Auld Reekie,” but few know of the origin of the term. Quoting from Robert Chambers’ “Traditions of Edinburgh,” Mr Everard tells that “Mr. James Durham was in the habit of regulating evening worship by- the appearance of the smoke in Edinburgh—from Largo Law he had a fine vie wup the Firth of Forth. When it was increasing in density in consequence of the good folk preparing supper, he would say, ‘lt is time noo, bairns, to tak’ the Imiks, and gang to oor beds, for yonder’s Auld Reekie putting on her night-cap.’ ” As we have said, this score of ninetyfour remained easily a record till 1853, when Captain J. C. Stewart went round in ninety. , This score was beaten two years later by Mr. George Glennie’s eighty-eight, by which he won the autumn medal of the club. To go round St. Andrews. under ninety was then almost, if not quite, unknown, and Mr. Glennie’s round was talked of for years with bated breath. It survived as a record till 1879, when Mr. W. J. Mure won the spring medal with eighty-six; but so far as the- chief award of merit (the King William the Fourth Medal) was concerned was not beaten till 1884, when Mr. Horace Hutchinson did an eightyseven. Nowadays records do not last so long. .We now reach that stage iu which the

book has, as we said before, its complement in THE LIFE OF TOM MORRIS; so we..take our leave of an interesting and well-written contribution to golfing literature. It -should, however, be said that the volume is beautifully got up and printed, and abounds in old photographs and illustrations, the most interesting of which perhaps is one of the Home Hole in the days before there were any houses abutting the links at all, except the corner one at the far east end, the site of the present Golf Hotel. Unless we are mistaken, that used to be Allan Robertson’s shop. Tom Morris was born in 1821, and found himself feather-ball making for Allan Robertson at a time when the glory of these worthies was at its height. Pity it is that, as he says, he “doesna mind muckle aboot them.” So the early part of the book deals almost entirely with general golf at St. Andrews, especially with Allan Robertson and his feats on the links. Tom left to take charge of Prestwick Links in 1851, by which time he had already played that historic foursome in partnership with Allan Rob- - ertson against the Dunns of MusseL ' burgh. In the final stage of that match (which was for four hundred pounds) at North Berwick, the Dunns were four up and eight to play, and odds of twenty to one were laid on them (men used to bet high in those days). By one of those extraordinary changes of fortune which so often occur at golf, Tom and Allan won four out of the next six holes, so the match was all square, with two to play. The next hole was one of the most extraordinary ever recorded in the annals of big matches. Nerves were in evidence, for the St. Andrews men had played three more and were bunkered. But the Dunns found their ball in a terrible plaee under a large stone. It was solemnly proposed to send for a piekaxe to remove the obstacle; but the referee firmly put his foot down on that proposal. Then apparently the brothers lost their heads. Four times did they hash at the ball before they thought of jobbing it out with the point of the club. By this time it was too late; the hole was lost, and with it the match and the money. It is said that Tom Morris played the best of the lot, and that the credit of winning was mostly due to him. While he was at Prestwick he used frequently to visit his native home to play matches, and he challenged Allan Robertson to play him for.one hundred pounds, but the challenge was not taken up. Little is mentioned of his life at Prestwick or of the matches he played in the West, except that he flourished as a club and ball maker. It was in 1863 that he returned to St. Andrews to take charge of the green, which post he retained till advancing years made it impossible for him to do his duties, which were becoming more exacting every year. From this time onward Dr. Tulloch’s book is a mere chronicle of the matches and tournaments in which the subject of his biography happened to play. In the sixties, before the rise of Young Tom, Old Tom had his run

of success. Four times in that decade did he win the championship belt,—that l>elt which was eventually won outright by his son; but with the latter’s advent the father’s play seemed to deteriorate, until the Indian summer of his golf arrived, and at the age of seventy he suddenly had a new lease of golfing life, and for the next few seasons played better than he had done for many a year. One would naturally have imagined "that father and' son would have made an invincible combination, but they did not. The elder man contracted a bad habit of missing short putts. Dr. Tulloch tells a story that a letter addressed “To the Misser of Short Putts, Prestwick,” reached its destination; while Young Tom, in genial sarcasm, used to chaff his father, “Gin the hole would come to ye, ye’d be a fine putter, faither.” of late years he got over that failing. “I never miss thae noo,” he said, after an old crony had expressed surprise at seeing him hole a yard putt. Tom has been through many trials. Three sons and a daughter has he buried, and now he is left a solitary figure, with his years heavy upon him, a pathetic sight indeed. It should be said that, IN ADDITION TO THE STORY OF OLD TOM’S GOLF, the book practically includes almost the whole of Young Tom’s matches and triumphs. What a grand golfer he was those who read may learn. There are many who even now say he was the greatest of all, living or dead. As to that; no one should even venture a guess. Conditions have so enormously changed that comparisons are to our mind impossible. All that we know for certain is that he had that vital spark of golfing genius which is vouchsafed to but few, and which puts them in a class by themselves. Like Mr Everard’s book, “The Life of Tom Morris” is profusely illustrated and very well got up. In the ■ “History of the Glasgow Golf Club,” by Mr Colville, we are transplanted from the East to the West of Scotland. He has not, indeed, the advantages of Mr Everard, but he makes the very best of the material to his hand. . Apparently in the period when Glasgow was beginning to prosper — about the end of the eighteenth century — some of the more spori;loving citizens used to play golf by the banks of the Clyde on Glasgow Green. From what we gather golf was somewhat subordinate to good cheer and quaint bets, and was played under considerable difficulties. Still, the records give us an insight into the merchant life and joviality of a city since become the second in the Empire which cannot fail to be of interest to the reader. Business cares, however, choked the struggling game, and it died a natural death, not to be resurrected till 1870, when the Glasgow Golf Club was revived. It has gone from strength to strength, and now boasts of a home green — Killermont —■ easily accessible from the city, and a" seaside course in Ayrshire— Gailes. Of considerable interest, as showing

how far men could drive with the feather ball, is the following extract from the minutes of the club: “11th April, 1786—We, John Dunlop and C. Corbett, at the request of Matthew Orr, Esq., attend this day at the Golf House to witness John Gibson strike five teed balls towards the first hole in the green, which done, the day being mild, with little or no wind, we measured the distance as follows: Ist ball, 182 yards; 2nd, 194; 3rd, 186; 4th, 201; sth, 201. A rise towards the hole about 140 yards off prevented running. J.G., asked to strike off from the Ist to the 2nd hole, on nearly a level for 200 yards, when there is a slight declivity, drove a distance of 222 yards.” As Mr Colville says, “with the feather ball and ou an absolutely unsophisticated course, this would compare well with the modern mighty things.” We should be induced to put it higher. How many men even now can average one hundred and ninety yards when conditions are not too favourable ? Mr; Colville .“finishes his round” with A FEW WELL-CHOSEN ANECDOTES. Fresh golfing stories are now ill to come by; but the following is, we fancy, original, and has plenty of Scots pawky humour: Greenkeeper to irate party who was endeavouring to loft over a dike which crosses the course at Leven —“Wuz ye gaun the hale roond?” Irate Party—“Of course.” Greenkeeper—“We’ll be needin’ the links the morn.” It is the spirit of moder# golf which Mr. Leach has captured and embodied in the clever series of golfing essays which he has aptly entitled “The Spirit of the Links.” Sometimes, indeed, he harks baek to olden times, but he is more successful in his interpretation of the more modern golfing philosophy and science. In his opening chapters he strikes a melodious note. “Spero ineliora” is the golfer’s fine motto. Hope is the will o’ the wisp which leads him floundering cheerfully through the bogs, bunkers, and pitfalls which beset him in every round, ever hoping to reach the Elysian fields, where the turf is soft and velvety, where every drive and every iron-shot is played to perfection, where no short putts are ever missed. The missing of short putts gives the author ample opportunity to moralise: “The history of every man’s golf is covered with metaphorical gravestones as the result of all the short putts he has missed.” How true that sentiment is every golfer knows too well. The man who never misses his short putts, those putts that our children find so easy, has never yet been found. Perhaps the cleverest thing in the book is the mental recitatif of the man who has to hole an eighteen-ineh putt to win him the match. It is too long to quote here, but will bear careful perusal. It begins thus: “This is a very simple job, and when I have holed the ball I shall be certain of my half-crown. Still, I must be careful. It is very easy to miss these putts.” It

is a very human document, which must appeal to many of us. We could go on giving extracts of golfing philosophy, statistics, and stories ad infinitum; but already this article is too long, and we feel we have trespassed on the patience of our readers. The advice we give is that they should read the books themselves.—“Chambers’ Magazine,” The various kinds of ball that arc placed on the market in these latter days, and their very varied degrees of resiliency and speed of starting away from the club, especially from the putter, suggest a way of correcting the strength of one’s putting which was not so available in the days when all golf balls were made of gutta-percha of a more cr less constant consistency. Surely there can be no golfer so fortunate as not to know those days on which it seems impossible to be up to the hole with the putter, unless by means of hitting so inharmonicusly hard as to disturb all sense of just aim and calculation. Of course, one can always be up if one chooses to take a full bang; but to be up consistently with any sort of calculated force sometimes appears sheer impossibility. On such days as those it is now feasible to correct much of the trouble by playing with a rather more lively ball, r.nd still keeping the same relation as before between th? measure of distance by the eye and the force given by the muscle. Again, in c'ming from a faster to a slower sat of putting greens, it is possible to adjust the strength required by the altered conditions by means of putting d' n a more lively ball and still hitting about as hard as before. Vice versa, going from a slow to a fast green, a slower ball may be put down. In the old days, it is true, thei j was a great difference of pace and resiliency between “gutty” and “putty” —or the Fclipse balls—'but it was too great a difference. It put r man off his game and his “touch” nine times out of ten when he shifted from the one to the other. The varieties of the “rubbercore” are much closer to each other in resiliency, an' so on, so that one may get the required alteration of pace with out loss of touch and confidence. And for the longer shots many of the balls are so much alike that the change makes no difference worth considering.