HOW GOLF HAS GRIPPED AMERICA
The difference in the golfing condition of the America which I had last
visited in the early nineties and that to which I went again in 1910,
was striking, and not a little amusing. On that former visit I had given
an exhibition of golf to a few indifferent spectators at the Meadowbrook
Club on Long Island, on which they had reported that it "might be a good
game for Sunday"--conveying thereby a studied and profane insult both to
the game and to the day. On my return in 1910 I found an America even
more completely in the throes of golf than any portion of our native
islands. But on this visit my approach to the American courses was made
in an unconventional manner that is worth a word of notice.
Lord Brassey had asked my wife and myself to come with him, on the
_Sunbeam_, to Iceland, across the Atlantic to Newfoundland, and up the
Gulf of St. Lawrence. The first golfing place at which we put in, after
joining the yacht in the Cromarty Firth, was Dornoch, where is as
glorious a natural links as the soul of the golfer can desire or his
most industrious inquiry discover. The conformation of Iceland, chiefly
mountain, or plain strewn with lava-blocks, hardly seems to lend itself
kindly to golf; but on arrival, after many days, during some of them
rather storm-tossed, at St. John's, Newfoundland, we found there a golf
course, still a little in the rough, carved out of primeval pine forest,
of undulating surface, astonishingly good considering how new it was,
and promising to give really amusing and good golf of the inland type in
the future. Neil Shannon, a Troon man, is the professional, and I
astonished both myself and him by beating him.
The next point at which we touched golf was Tadousac, a watering-place
at the mouth of the famed Saguenay River which runs into the St.
Lawrence. It is the oldest fur-trading station in Canada. Here is a
short course, much _accidente_, at two points traversing a deep ravine
which has real sand in it. There is a more elaborate and carefully kept
course at Murray Bay, a little further along the north shore of the St.
Lawrence.
At Quebec, on the Heights of Abraham, in a magnificent situation, is one
of the oldest courses in North America. I was beaten by a putt by the
better ball of two of the native golfers, Mr. Ash and Mr. McGreevy.
Noble hospitality was shown us, both in Canada and in the States.
Scarcely could one be permitted so much as to pay for one's own caddie,
and any question of green fees was dismissed as quite out of the
picture.
We sailed up to Montreal on the night of August 12th, and on the 15th I
find the following note in my diary: "Mr. Huntley Drummond took me
around in his car, after luncheon, to the Bank of Montreal, where we
picked up Mr. W. Clouston, and went out to the Beaconsfield course--not
at all a bad green, of the inland type, flat in general, but with the
club-house set on a hill from which most of the course is overlooked.
They do themselves very well in the matter of club-houses in this
country--most commodious, with bathrooms and all kinds of luxuries." On
the following day I played on the Dixie course, also quite near
Montreal, "a really good one--inland in its type, as all are over here,
but interesting and varied and very pretty at a certain corner where
much use is made of a stream, with weeping willows, and so on. There is
one respect in which the architects of the course might have been more
clever, for they have so ordained things that all the hazards are on the
left, all the penalty is for the pulled ball, and a man may slice and
slice to his heart's full content, and never suffer. The turf and the
greens are very good, and the butterflies and grasshoppers very
numerous, and large and splendid of hue."
At Montreal we said good-bye, with many tears, to the _Sunbeam_ and her
host, and made our next stop at Toronto, where are two excellent
courses. On August 19th I find in my diary that "self and A.E. Austin
beat Lyon and Breckenridge on the Lambton course." This Lyon is that Mr.
George Lyon whom we have seen over here competing in our amateur
championship. He has not done himself justice on this side, for he is a
very fine player. He has won the Canadian championship often--precisely
how often, I forget. "Lambton Golf Club very comfortable," my notes
record, "piano set out on balcony, lawn tennis court and all
'amenities.' Beautiful view of course from house--natural sand in
bunkers--very pretty, with woodland, water and undulating open country.
The course is laid on several big levels in terraces. You play across a
stream again and again--it is no course for non-floating balls. Some of
the greens are irrigated by sub-surface pipes from the stream, leading
to porous tiles, from which the hot sun sucks up the water to the
surface. I saw a thing this day that I never saw before--played a ball
up to a hole that had the flag standing in it; the ball jumped up,
wrapped itself up in the flag, and stayed there swaddled up in the flag.
Query--what is the rule that meets the case?"
The next day I played with Mr. Edgar on the Toronto Club's course, but
this is being given up to the builders, and the Club is moving to a
course further out along the lake. There is a third course, also, for
the Toronto folk--Rosedale--which is well spoken of. On the whole I was
very much struck with the quality of these Canadian courses of which we
hear but little over here. Among inland courses they take a very high
place.
Thence we went on by night, a sixteen hours' journey to Boston, where
Charlie Macdonald, the creator of the National Golf Links of America,
met us. Immediately on arrival we started out for the Myopia Club, where
Macdonald and I beat T. Stephenson and Leeds. The last is the
constructor of the Myopia course, and for its construction deserves no
little credit. From what I have seen of American courses I put the
National Golf Links first and this Myopia second, a very good second.
The National is that much-talked-of course of which it was said that it
was to be composed of replicas of the eighteen best holes that its
creator could anywhere discover, and he journeyed over all the courses
in Europe discovering them. My notes on Myopia course run: "fine inland
course--rather many blind shots" (but some of these, I know, have been
eliminated), "steeply undulating, sloping greens, no trees--good test
of golf, long and trying. Record in competition 75."
My next golfing note touches the Brookline course. "Went out in
Willett's car to Brookline, the County Club. This is a tree-y course,
like New Zealand, really good, good greens, well bunkered, a trifle on
the short side, but full of interest. At all the American Clubs great
care is taken in bunkering the courses." This last note is worth
attention, because I see it is a comment of Vardon, after his visit in
which he and Ray had to lower the British flag to Mr. Ouimet, that the
bunkers on the American courses were not severe enough. But he did not
see the National Links. That would have satisfied even his passion for
bunkers.
My notes continue: "Lunched at Brookline, then motored thirty miles to
Essex Club, where Charlie MacDonald and I again beat, as we had already
beaten in the morning at Brookline, T. Stephenson and Willett. The
course tree-y, like Brookline, with great hills here and there. Natural
sand in the bunkers--a fine course. Rather in transition state, as I saw
it, but with all the making of a good thing."
I see that I was at Myopia again on the 23rd, when Charlie MacDonald and
I again beat Stephenson and Leeds. In the afternoon we went to see Mr.
Fricks' grand collection of pictures at his house on North Shore--a fine
sight, though "not golf." But there was little rest from golf when we
arrived, at 3 p.m. on the 24th, in New York, very hot and dusty.
Macdonald motored us out to his house at Rosslyn and then took me for a
round at Garden City in the evening, where I beat him in a single.
"Course very brown and baked," according to my diary, "but quite long,
and putting greens good. Rather ugly surroundings, but fine test of
golf. No trees as hazards, except a line of them on right of the 17th,
which is a very good hole. The finish is to a short hole over a pond.
Doubtless a good course, but not very inspiring."
On the 25th I see that "Charles Macdonald and self played F. Herreshoff
and L. Livingstone, at Garden City, in morning, but lost by a hole, and
in the afternoon Herreshoff and self played our better ball against the
best ball of C. Macdonald, L. Livingstone and R. Watson, but lost by a
hole again." I have a note appended to this day's golf: "Never played
worse--eyes bad with heat and motoring."
I may break off here to give a hint to the British golfer visiting the
States. I doubtless got a little "touch of the sun" on this day at
Garden City, and it is a thing that the Briton coming fresh to American
golf has to be very carefully on his guard against. He is menaced,
really, by three dangers--the blaze and glare of the sun, the abounding
energy of the native golfers and their abounding hospitality. Between
the three he is in much peril of being overdone, as I quickly was. I
played golf on various courses afterwards--on the Shinnecock Hills,
finely undulating, but too short and with too many blind shots, where
natural advantages have not been turned to the best possible account; at
Easthampton, where, for two holes, you actually find yourself among real
seaside sand dunes (unhappily this blessed dispensation does not last);
on the National Links, of which I have already noted my high
appreciation; at Baltusrol, very tree-y and very hilly, but a good,
interesting course, and others too many to name.
Their witness suffices. It suffices to show the zeal and kindness of
your American hosts in taking you vast distances to play on many
courses. It shows the vengeance that golf has taken on them for that
comment on it of a quarter of a century ago when I exhibited to them
some feeble sample of it and they said that it might do "for Sundays."
There are men in America now who will play golf even on a week-day. In
fact golf is, with many, the real interest of their lives. They do a bit
of work, no doubt, urged by the painful necessity of earning a
livelihood, but there are many whom their work does not grip. A quarter
of a century ago the business men of New York talked dollars: to-day
they talk golf. It is a very sanitary change. And not only will they
talk golf, but they will spend money on it. The care that they take of
their putting greens would hardly be credited, without being seen. It is
not enough for them that the turf shall all be of grass, with no blend
of weeds: it is demanded that it shall be all of one variety of grass,
and that variety the finest. The National Golf Links has not only every
green watered; it is watered all through the green, from extensive
sprinklers kept going all night long in the dry weather.