THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES
 
 MY GOLFING 
 REMINISCENCES 
 
 BY 
 
 HAROLD H. HILTON 
 
 ilonoon 
 
 JAMES NISBET & CO., LIMITED 
 
 BERNERS STREET, W. 
 
 1907
 
 Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & oo. 
 At the Ballantyne Press, Edinburgh
 
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 "WHERE did you learn your golf?" is a ques- 
 tion which I have often been asked, and I have 
 generally evaded it by answering, " I began to 
 play the game at Hoylake." But, candidly, it 
 is not true to say that I learnt my game alto- 
 gether at Hoylake, as I have been learning the 
 game all my life ; and what is more, I am still 
 willing to learn, if I think I can see anything 
 worth learning. A golfer's education is never 
 finished ; he certainly may forget a little of 
 what he has learnt, but he can always pick up 
 some simple wrinkle which may be of use to 
 him in his after career. 
 
 Of course I certainly owe a great deal to my 
 early golfing education at Hoylake it was, so 
 
 to speak, the nursery of my game and, look- 
 
 A 
 
 958441
 
 2 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 ing back at the players it has turned out, it is 
 almost needless to say that an excellent nursery 
 it must have been. I cannot quite say at 
 what age I began to play the game, but I am 
 assured of this, that when I commenced it 
 must have been as a boy of very immature 
 years ; at the age of two I was taken to live 
 in a house right on the very edge of the links ; 
 and as I was a boy with a natural predilection 
 for athletics, it cannot have been long before I 
 handled a club. 
 
 I am told that the first club I handled was 
 one of my father's. This is more than probable, 
 as in my youthful days I had the undesirable 
 habit of making use of the goods of all my 
 relations not to mention the goods of those 
 who were not my relations and decking myself 
 up in habiliments which did not belong to 
 me. In consequence I earned the sobriquet of 
 "Paddy" a sobriquet which remained with me 
 for many years. 
 
 Still, I have a distinct recollection of one of 
 my first efforts. I remember well enough that 
 I was attempting to use a club which was
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 3 
 
 much too long for me, and holding it short, 
 with the top of the shaft protruding past my 
 left ear. The upward swing was quite easy, but 
 in the downward swing there was a decided 
 obstruction, as the club struck me on the left 
 side of the head. On mature consideration 
 this would seem to be the only possible result. 
 Even in those infantile days, however, I was of 
 an experimental turn of mind, and I decided to 
 try to hit the ball with the top of the shaft 
 protruding beyond my right ear. The result 
 was not quite as painful, but it was even less 
 effective, as I never even finished the upward 
 swing, the handle of the club this time striking 
 me on the right side of the head, and another 
 valiant effort ended in nought. 
 
 Attempt number three was even more painful, 
 but the physical pain passed me by and fell 
 upon another small boy who was watching my 
 vain efforts. This time it was not the club 
 handle which caused the trouble, it was the club 
 head, which struck him fairly on the temple. 
 You see I had decided to hold the club at the 
 extreme end, so as to save my own head ; as it
 
 4 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 appeared to be the only possible solution of the 
 difficulty. But that club had made up its mind 
 to hurt some one seriously that day, and it 
 certainly stuck to its initial resolution, as it left 
 a very nasty wound, and, at the same time, a 
 very vivid impression upon my mind that it is 
 never safe to swing a club unless you are abso- 
 lutely sure that there is no one immediately 
 behind you. It was a lesson taught me early 
 in life, and I have never forgotten it. Even 
 the idea of the possibility of hitting any one 
 in the backward swing puts me off my stroke, 
 and I always prefer both my opponent and his 
 caddie facing me, a position in which there is 
 no danger. 
 
 Shortly after this I went to school a school 
 which has turned out more than one good golfer ; 
 when I first entered its portals as a boy of 
 six, amongst the pupils were Johnnie Ball, Her- 
 bert Tweedie, and Herbert Farrar, not to mention 
 several others, who might have made a name 
 for themselves had they stuck to the game in 
 later years. Mr. Arthur Turpin, the proprietor 
 of the school, had also under his charge the late
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 5 
 
 Willie More from a scientific point of view 
 one of the finest golfers that ever lived my 
 younger brother Reggie, F. P. Crowther, Jim., 
 and H. P. Crowther ; and notwithstanding that 
 it was but a small day school, there can be few 
 schools which have turned out a finer collection 
 of amateur golfers. 
 
 In every walk of life a child or a man has 
 ambitions ; without them he is of little use to 
 this world. My ambition has always been to 
 conquer something in the game of golf. I 
 began somewhat early in life. The first diffi- 
 culty I tried to surmount was the feat of 
 driving over the "Bowling Green" it was a 
 real bowling green, which belonged to the 
 Green Lodge Hotel. It was probably not 
 more than thirty yards wide ; but everything in 
 this world is a question of degree, and a carry 
 of thirty yards is no mean effort for a boy of 
 seven years of age. What made the occasion 
 all the more trying was the fact that this green 
 was surrounded by a fence, and, if the ball 
 had landed inside, it would probably have
 
 6 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 had to be retrieved when darkness had over- 
 spread the earth, as there was a fearsome notice 
 to the effect that trespassers would be pro- 
 secuted. On thinking the question over in 
 later years I have had my. doubts as to whether 
 this intimation would have been carried out in 
 its legal entirety, but it sufficed for the infantile 
 mind. In consequence the attempted feat was 
 always approached with a certain amount of 
 trepidation. 
 
 Finally, after this was achieved the youth- 
 ful Alexanders sighed for fresh fields to con- 
 quer, and on the way to school the only other 
 obstacle to overcome was the back garden of 
 the late Mr. Robert Wilson, otherwise called 
 "The Chieftain." This garden was probably no 
 wider than the bowling green, but it was sur- 
 rounded by a belt of trees, and in consequence 
 was infinitely more difficult to surmount. More- 
 over, whilst the bowling green had a notice 
 "Trespassers will be prosecuted," the Chief- 
 tain's garden owned a very large rain-tub, on 
 which was painted in very large white letters, 
 " Beware of the dog." Now there is a grave
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 7 
 
 distinction between the fact that you will be 
 prosecuted and the fact that there is a dog pre- 
 sent. The one suggests that there is a possi- 
 bility of trouble in the future ; the other does 
 not trouble with the future a dog only argues 
 with the present. Again, in the first instance 
 your parents are the ones who will probably 
 suffer, whilst in the second they cannot bear 
 the responsibility and pain if a dog really does 
 bite you. 
 
 Therefore, every boy was very chary of attempt- 
 ing the Chieftain's garden unless he knew full 
 well that he had an excellent chance of carrying 
 it. By the way, in after years I found out that 
 "Dan," the dog referred to in white letters, was 
 not at all a fearsome animal ; he had a small 
 fat body and a large bark, and, when he did 
 bark, preferred to discuss the situation some five 
 or ten yards away. I have always thought that 
 it would have been infinitely kinder had the 
 Chieftain intimated this fact upon the rain- tub. 
 It would have made life much easier for the 
 children, and at the same time not have cost 
 much in paint.
 
 8 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 But these are merely childish days, though 
 possibly days in which I was as keen upon 
 the game of golf as ever I was in my life, and 
 I have been very much interested in the game 
 on several occasions during my career. 
 
 Now to the serious business of a competitive 
 career. My first appearance was almost naturally 
 in the boys' competition at Hoylake. I was 
 eight years of age at the time. The com- 
 petition was divided into two classes the first 
 being for all boys under sixteen years of age, 
 who played the full eighteen holes, the second 
 for boys under twelve years of age, and the 
 course they had to play was only twelve holes. 
 I entered for the major event, that is, the 
 eighteen holes, though why I know not. In any 
 case I failed, and that notwithstanding a very 
 substantial handicap. In the following year 
 discretion overcame my vaulting ambition, and, 
 entering for the junior competition, I won the 
 first prize from scratch. In the following year, 
 at the age of ten, ambition once again came 
 to the fore. I entered amongst the seniors, and 
 had no cause to regret doing so, as I won
 
 MY GOLFING EEMINISCENCES 9 
 
 the scratch medal. I had been rather highly 
 honoured that day, for had not Joseph Lloyd, 
 the present professional at Pau, and at that 
 time the smartest caddie on the Hoylake links, 
 requested to be allowed to carry for me. It was 
 an honour which I did not thoroughly appre- 
 ciate until thinking the situation over in after 
 years. The " General," as he was called, must 
 have been of great service to me, as in those 
 days I seldom played anything approaching a 
 full round, and knew literally nothing at all 
 about the distances, much less anything about 
 the rules. It is more than probable that he 
 played the game, and I simply struck the ball, 
 but in any case it was a very successful com- 
 bination. In this competition I was given a 
 handicap of eighteen, and in consequence I 
 was easily first in the handicap results, but 
 could only take one prize. A peculiar feature 
 in this round was the fact that never during 
 the whole eighteen holes did I feel the slightest 
 sign of nervousness or anxiety, possibly owing to 
 the ignorance of childhood. The following year, 
 at the mature age of eleven, my nerve gave way
 
 10 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 for the first time. I couldn't sleep the night 
 before the competition, and when playing I 
 was simply trembling with fright. I suppose I 
 had suddenly found a reputation, and the burden 
 was too big to carry. I did not win that medal, 
 being beaten by three strokes by W. E. 
 Whineray, with whom I happened to be playing. 
 
 From that time until the age of fifteen my 
 interest in the game of golf considerably waned, 
 no doubt because, being at a boarding-school, I 
 took a greater interest in other branches of 
 athletics. However, I managed to win the medal 
 in the three following years, all three on what 
 in racing parlance would be termed very hurried 
 preparations ; in fact, one year I never struck a 
 shot on the links until I arrived on the tee, 
 and in consequence only just scrambled home 
 from a very poor field, and I should only have 
 met my due had I lost ; indeed, I am more im- 
 pressed in each succeeding year with the absolute 
 necessity of continuous practice. 
 
 It was during these years that Johnnie Ball 
 was making a name for himself as just about 
 the finest amateur golfer in the kingdom, and
 
 MY GOLFING KEMINISCENCES 11 
 
 he was naturally the idol of all the smaller 
 boys. My idolatry for his prowess had the pain- 
 ful effect of costing me one whole shilling 
 over his match with Douglas Holland. At the 
 time I was at school in Norfolk, and it so 
 happened that there was one other boy at the 
 school who knew something about the game 
 of golf. He was a native of Musselburgh, and 
 occasionally we had little arguments about the 
 game. He used to quote Bob Fergusson and 
 other Scottish celebrities, and was quite im- 
 partial, but he could always find about six 
 Scotsmen who could beat any Englishman. I 
 had only one reply as to the prowess of his 
 many celebrities, and that was that Johnnie 
 Ball was quite good enough for me. One day 
 when we were looking through the Field 
 together, he suddenly remarked " Hello, here 
 is a man going to play Ball," and on looking 
 at the paper I saw that it was Douglas Holland. 
 I had never even heard of his name before, and 
 possibly spoke a little contemptuously of his 
 chance, and scorned the idea of any one beat- 
 ing Johnnie. Whatever it was I said, it evi-
 
 12 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 dently aroused the ire of the Scotch boy, as he 
 promptly remarked " I will bet you a shilling 
 that Holland wins." I didn't hesitate a moment 
 in accepting the offer, only thinking at the time 
 that I hoped he had an honest and a good 
 memory. When pay-day did come, however, 
 it was I who had to disgorge. I couldn't 
 make it out at all I was simply dumfoundered 
 at the result. I tried hard to forget the in- 
 cident, but that boy Gibson would not let me. 
 Eventually I had recourse to the extreme measure 
 of wilfully avoiding him I was getting really 
 tired of the subject. 
 
 Before leaving the subject of the golfing days 
 of my extreme youth, I may say that until the 
 age of fifteen I received instruction from only 
 one individual, and that was from my father. 
 Not that I was at all anxious to accept these 
 well-meant efforts to keep me along the straight 
 and narrow pathway. I could not see the logic 
 of a man with a handicap of twenty even sug- 
 gesting that there could be a right and a wrong 
 way of playing the game. I could even beat 
 him myself, and it seemed ridiculous that he
 
 MY GOLFING EEMINISCENCES 13 
 
 could teach me anything. Still he persevered 
 very hard, and his perseverance has borne good 
 fruit, as by his constant reiteration of the 
 words, "Why don't you follow through?" I was 
 eventually induced to adopt this mode of pro- 
 cedure, even if it was only to keep him quiet. 
 And it is certainly this principle of following 
 through which has made my swing the true one 
 that it is. I can always remember an example 
 of what I then considered paternal censorious- 
 ness. To my youthful mind it appeared to me 
 that he simply took advantage of the fact that 
 he was my father to bully me. It was a spring 
 morning, just at the time of the year when the 
 morning air is decidedly cool. I was dragged 
 out of bed about six. I say dragged out, as 
 I literally was dragged out, and in those days 
 I was not at all partial to getting up to see the 
 sun rise. I arrived on the tee a very irritable 
 boy, and I would not try to play the game. 
 I simply slogged at the ball a species of mild 
 protest at the iniquitous outrage of being taken 
 from my warm bed. Soon came the old, old 
 cry, "Why don't you follow through?" It was
 
 14 MY GOLFING KEMINISCENCES 
 
 repeated so often that I eventually became a 
 little sick of it, and when playing my second 
 shot to the fifth hole, I took a flying run at 
 the ball, and after hitting it, ran in the direc- 
 tion the ball had gone. " Is that following 
 through ? " I remarked, feeling that I had scored 
 quite a big point. The reply quite chastened 
 my spirit : " Harold, if you are going to be 
 a big baby, you had better go home." I had 
 enough judgment to feel the good sense of the 
 remark. 
 
 When I look back upon my career it is always 
 impressed upon me that when I had attained the 
 age of fifteen years my golfing education had 
 barely commenced. I certainly had learnt to hit 
 the ball, and hit it very truly, but I had not the 
 faintest idea how I achieved the results. It was 
 a game for which I had only two qualifications- 
 first, a natural physical ability for games, and 
 second, certain powers of imitation powers which 
 are invariably very marked in all children. I had 
 never taken the trouble to watch other players, 
 and see how they achieved their results in my 
 opinion absolutely the finest schooling in the
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 15 
 
 world for a young player. When I was fifteen 
 years of age, however, I was granted an oppor- 
 tunity of obtaining an insight into the many 
 mysteries of the game, and for this insight I 
 was mainly indebted to the late Willie More, 
 to whom I have before alluded. At one time he 
 was a member of the Royal Liverpool Club, but 
 later in life he became professional at Chester 
 and Johannesburg, a profession he adopted owing 
 to a weakness in his lungs, and the consequent 
 medical dictate that he must at any cost lead 
 an open-air life. At the time I speak of he was 
 between sixteen and seventeen years of age, but 
 even at that age he knew more about the game 
 than most men of twenty-five or even thirty. He 
 treated the game as a science, and although 
 he probably slightly overdid the subject in re- 
 spect that he was too experimentally theoretic, 
 still he achieved wonderful results, and I remem- 
 ber one day when he beat Johnnie Ball in two 
 consecutive rounds. He couldn't drive within 
 yards of John, but the latter was driving very 
 wildly just then, and the tortoise beat the 
 hare. It was up to the hole and on the green
 
 16 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 that More's strength lay. He had half-a-dozen 
 ways of playing every shot, and was particularly 
 good when slicing a ball into the wind with a 
 wooden club. To the present generation his 
 name may not even be known, but he accom- 
 plished two very good performances'; the first 
 being to reach the fifth round of the first 
 championship at Hoylake in 1885, when he was 
 beaten by the ultimate winner, Mr. Horace 
 Hutchinson not at all bad for a boy of seven- 
 teen; and again at St. Andrews in 1891, after 
 he had turned professional, he finished fifth in 
 the open championship. At the tenth hole in the 
 second round he had a very decided chance of 
 winning, as at that point he was only one stroke 
 behind Hugh Kirkaldy, the ultimate winner. 
 Kirkaldy, who was playing in front of him, 
 took five to the short hole, and Billy More saw 
 him do it, and at the same time knew his score. 
 In his anxiety to take every advantage of this 
 mistake he tried for far too much, and found the 
 right-hand bunker, took three to get out, and six 
 to the hole. This broke him up, as his temper, 
 never of the most reliable quality, gave way.
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 17 
 
 How good he would have been, had his health 
 been satisfactory, it is impossible to say, but he 
 certainly was a beautiful golfer, and moreover 
 was blessed with a wonderful nerve and any 
 amount of pluck. 
 
 I have brought his name into this story, mainly 
 on account of the fact that at this period of my 
 life I had five consecutive months' golf with 
 him, and he certainly taught me much of the 
 scientific possibilities of the game. I cannot say 
 that I followed all his little theoretical fads ; 
 he had far too many to take in all at once, 
 and they had to be taken home, chewed, 
 and digested, but they taught me much. 
 First, I learnt the advantage of the over- 
 lapping or interlocking grip, particularly when 
 playing short approaches. In the driving de- 
 partment of the game, I did not make too 
 great a success of this overlapping grip, as 
 my hands were too small to obtain a suffi- 
 ciently powerful grip of the handle of the club, 
 and finally I dropped it. My early experi- 
 ence of this grip is, however, still evident in 
 the way I bold my club, the little finger of 
 
 B
 
 18 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 my right hand always being off the handle of 
 the club. 
 
 In these five months I came on by leaps 
 and bounds. I began playing More with the 
 odds of a third, then the odds came down to 
 four strokes, and finally I played him on level 
 terms, and held my own fairly well. Although 
 I hardly touched a club for the next three years 
 of my life, I always consider that I learnt more 
 in those five months than I have ever learnt in 
 any two other years of my golfing career. 
 
 It was about this time that I played my first 
 game against Johnnie Ball. It was a foursome, 
 in which I was partnered with More against 
 Johnnie and Herbert Tweedie, and there was 
 great joy in our camp when we beat them. 
 Shortly after this I tackled John in a single ; 
 he gave me a third and I won, and was con- 
 sequently much elated. The smile was on the 
 other side of my face on the next occasion, as 
 he sent me home thinking very hard. It seemed 
 to me as if it would have taken about a stroke 
 a hole to bring us together. 
 
 It was just about this time that I obtained
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 19 
 
 my first experience of serious golf, as on top 
 of these foursomes against Johnnie Ball I was 
 backed for a wager against one of the scratch 
 players of the club. I was not at all nervous 
 in this match, as I had an idea I should win. 
 I had nothing to lose and everything to gain, 
 and moreover, shortly before the event, he had 
 arrived on the course without a match, and 
 asked me whether I would care to play. Natur- 
 ally il was delighted. I shall always remember 
 the remark he made to me at the tee on that 
 occasion "Well, I suppose, Harold, you are 
 growing far too big a boy to receive strokes." I 
 didn't receive any strokes, and I won on the 
 seventeenth green. This gave me confidence in 
 the " wager " match, and I once again won, 
 this time on the sixteenth green. 
 
 Another vivid impression I retain in connec- 
 tion with that period was the occasion of a 
 visit from John Laidlay to Hoylake ; we had 
 all heard that the most famous Scottish amateur 
 was to come down to play Johnnie, and our 
 interest was great. The first part of the invasion 
 we came across in the form of Laidlay's clubs,
 
 20 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 which we saw being taken into Morris's shop, and 
 we followed in and inspected them. The result 
 of the inspection was not flattering to Scottish 
 club-makers, as the clubs seemed abnormally long 
 in the face and clumsy in appearance. From 
 my earliest recollection the club-heads turned 
 out from the shop of John Morris have always 
 been comparatively short in the face, and several 
 of us were in the habit of using what was 
 termed a wooden niblick, which was really the 
 forerunner of the brassie of the present day. 
 But if the inspection of the clubs proved unsatis- 
 factory, it was as nothing to our contemptuous 
 wonderment when we saw Laidlay's style. In 
 our youthful ignorance we came to the conclu- 
 sion that no man who played in a style like 
 that could possibly be a good player, and as 
 Johnnie Ball simply walked all over him, there 
 seemed a certain amount of justice and truth 
 in our opinions. 
 
 But Johnnie Ball was at his best that day, 
 and after the match I am told that Laidlay 
 sorrowfully remarked " What is the good of 
 bringing me down to play a machine ? " I
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 21 
 
 may say, by the way, that added experience of 
 Laidlay's play has forced me to the conclusion 
 that a man can play golf in that style. Still, at 
 the time I was left with a very poor opinion of 
 the Scottish amateur.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 MY attempts at a first-class career may be said 
 to have commenced in 1887. For the two pre- 
 vious years, between the ages of sixteen and 
 eighteen, I hardly touched a club, chiefly for the 
 reason that the opportunity was lacking ; for 
 when you leave your domicile for commerce at 
 nine o'clock in the morning and, on the average, 
 arrive back about seven o'clock at night, there 
 is not much time for the royal and ancient 
 game. The only exercise I then obtained was 
 a little Saturday afternoon cricket. 
 
 However, in the spring of 1887 I joined the 
 Royal Liverpool Golf Club, and as the champion- 
 ship was to take place at Hoylake, I arranged to 
 take my holiday at the time it was to be held. 
 I had a whole week's practice previous to the 
 event, and during that week had two rounds 
 with Johnnie Ball. I was told that he had not 
 
 22
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 23 
 
 touched a club for some six weeks before he 
 played those rounds, but it did not seem to 
 make much difference to him. On both occa- 
 sions he was round in a score comfortably under 
 80, and naturally I was beaten ; but I was quite 
 pleased with the trial, as the excellence of his 
 play did not affect my game, and I stuck to 
 him well. When the entry was published, I 
 came to the conclusion that I had quite a good 
 chance of doing some good, as the entries 
 amounted to only 33, and in point of class it 
 was far and away the poorest that has ever 
 entered for the event. 
 
 Where were all the Scottish cracks? It is 
 said that they stayed away, being under the 
 impression that it was no use attempting to 
 beat Johnnie Ball over his own course. Round 
 number one I tackled in quite a light-hearted 
 manner, having been told I was sure to beat 
 my man, John Sharp of Dundee. In the end 
 I won readily enough. I chiefly remember him 
 for the enormous cigars he smoked all the way 
 round. He did not seem to take championships 
 very seriously. In round number two I was con-
 
 24 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 fronted by the late Mr. John Ball, sen., and when 
 we arrived on the tee he remarked, " They all 
 say it is no use me coming out to play you, 
 but dang it all I am going to try ! " And try 
 he did. I could not get away from him. Twice 
 I was one up, but he always dragged me back 
 again, and when once he took the lead compara- 
 tively close to home it was all over. I went 
 absolutely to pieces from nothing else than pure 
 funk. The only consolation I could eventually 
 derive was the fact that my conqueror very 
 nearly beat Horace Hutchinson in the penulti- 
 mate round. The final of that championship 
 was witnessed by about fifty people only. There 
 is a photograph in the Royal Liverpool Club- 
 house depicting Horace Hutchinson putting at 
 the seventh hole. The crowd, if the gathering 
 is worthy of such a title, appear to be stand- 
 ing within a few feet of the players. What 
 a difference nowadays, with the thousands of 
 spectators, necessitating ropes and numberless 
 stewards ! 
 
 Horace Hutchinson eventually won that 
 championship, but I have always thought that
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 25 
 
 he was lucky to do so, as at the beginning of 
 the meeting he was playing very poorly ; and 
 although he improved as the week wore on, 
 and played well in the final round, still Johnnie 
 Ball was dreadfully unlucky in that he broke 
 his pet wooden club going to the sixteenth hole, 
 and recourse to a new club resulted in missed 
 tee shots at both the seventeenth and eighteenth 
 holes. I must confess that my first experience of 
 a championship was not a happy one. I felt 
 very subdued and chastened in spirit. 
 
 In 1888, although I practically played no golf, 
 I had a try for the medal at the Spring Meet- 
 ing of the club. I began the round at 8.30, 
 the unearthly hour beloved by Jack Graham. My 
 start was not an impressive one, as, with a 
 strong following wind behind, my approach 
 overran the green at the first hole now the 
 eighteenth and I finished in the drain beyond 
 the green. I chased my ball up and down that 
 drain for some minutes, and finally holed out 
 in thirteen. Thirteen is always an unlucky 
 number, and I didn't win that medal. 
 
 In 1889, however, a change of occupation
 
 26 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 gave me more opportunities of practising. At 
 the Spring Meeting of the Royal Liverpool Club 
 I met Laidlay for the first time. I had come 
 down in the afternoon of the day previous 
 to the meeting for a practice round. Laidlay 
 was in the club-house, and the late John Ball, 
 sen., introduced us. I eventually won the 
 match on the seventeenth green, but in doing 
 so I holed some terribly long putts. It was 
 not so much the winning of the match as a 
 casual remark I heard Laidlay make just after- 
 wards that gave me the most pleasure. A friend 
 of his, on hearing of the result, remarked : "Well, 
 Johnnie, you are having a bad time." I was 
 within earshot and heard the reply : " That 
 man's a good player." It meant much from a 
 golfer of Laidlay's calibre. 
 
 Shortly after this I made my second ap- 
 pearance in the amateur event, and strangely 
 enough I was drawn against Laidlay straight 
 away. He beat me on the last green, a 
 result possibly justified on the play. Whilst 
 I was quite satisfied with the result in running 
 such a player to the last green, I have always
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 27 
 
 thought that I might even have done better 
 had I played with more resolution at the times 
 when I had a chance. At one period I had a 
 lead of one, and the prospect of winning so 
 frightened me that I went to pieces for the 
 next three holes. I am afraid I began that 
 round with the idea that if I gave mine enemy 
 a good run I should have done well, and when 
 the match had finished I felt I had done 
 well. But that is not the spirit in which to 
 approach a championship. You must go out 
 to win whatever your chance may be on paper. 
 Young Gordon Barry emphasised this fact at 
 Prestwick. 
 
 Apart from my own game against Laidlay, 
 I always remember this championship on ac- 
 count of the game between Johnnie Ball and 
 Laidlay in the penultimate round. In losing the 
 match at the twentieth hole, I have never seen 
 a man have harder lines than Johnnie had. 
 His second shot with a cleek seemed perfection- 
 it was never off the pin ; possibly a few of the 
 spectators thought it might be in the small 
 bunker beyond the hole, but I feel assured
 
 28 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 that the majority thought that it was safe on 
 the green. All doubts were set at rest, however, 
 when a prominent member of the Royal and 
 Ancient Club signalled " down." I have always 
 doubted whether his action was quite in ac- 
 cordance with golfing etiquette, as Laidlay had 
 yet to play, and it is occasionally an advantage 
 to know when your opponent is trapped. Per- 
 haps it made no difference to Laidlay's approach, 
 which was perfectly played, but the game of 
 golf is between the two players and their 
 caddies, and this some spectators do not seem 
 quite to realise. 
 
 In this year (1889) I came on a great deal 
 in my game, and when I finished up the year 
 I was handicapped within two strokes of Johnnie 
 Ball. 
 
 In 1890 the championship was played at 
 Hoylake. I got through three rounds, and 
 then came across that great stumbling-block, 
 John Ball, jun. This was one of the years in 
 which he treated all his opponents in some- 
 what summary fashion ; but I managed to do 
 better than the majority, as he only beat me
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 29 
 
 on the sixteenth green, and towards the middle 
 of the round I certainly held the lead. But 
 the old frightened, anxious spirit once again, 
 as at St. Andrews, made itself evident. It was 
 a year, however, in which the prowess of Johnnie 
 Ball distinctly dominated the meeting, and never 
 in the final of a championship has a more brilliant 
 start been made than Johnnie made that year. 
 I remember well the match had to be postponed 
 owing to a thunderstorm. This seemed to suit 
 him well, as he began putting like a demon. 
 He would not be denied, and actually stood six 
 up at the turn. Laidlay made a big fight coming 
 home, but it was not a bit of good. 
 
 In this year I won my first big open tourna- 
 ment, and this was at North Berwick in the fall 
 of the year. It was not a championship, and I 
 went up with decided hopes of success. On the 
 first night I arrived a very amusing incident 
 happened in the smoking-room of the Marine 
 Hotel. I was standing by the fireplace talking 
 to Freddie Tait, and a prominent member of the 
 Tantallon Club came in. He evidently did not 
 recognise either of us, as on being asked who he
 
 30 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 thought was going to win, he promptly replied, 
 "Well, they all say one of the two youngsters, 
 Tait and Hilton ; but I don't believe in them. 
 I prefer the pluck of an old one." There was 
 silence for a moment, and then a general titter. 
 For a moment he looked surprised, but some one 
 saved the situation by remarking, " Perhaps you 
 would like to meet Tait and Hilton," and we 
 were solemnly introduced. He was not put out 
 a bit, as he immediately remarked, "Well, I am 
 very glad to meet you ; but, as I said before, I 
 do not think either of you will win." He was 
 wrong, however, as the second of the youngsters 
 did win. In arriving at this end, and in the 
 light of after events, he was possibly a little for- 
 tunate in not having to meet the other young- 
 ster. David Anderson, of Monifieth, kindly 
 removed youngster number one from the path- 
 way of youngster number two. This was one 
 of the occasions on which Freddie Tait did 
 have hard lines. The game stood all even 
 and one to play, and Freddie hit one of his 
 longest, with a bit of draw upon it. The ball 
 careered along until it finished up in a sandy
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 31 
 
 pathway, right against Hutchison's shop. It was 
 not a particularly nice lie, even if he could have 
 played it right-handed ; but he could not possibly 
 get at it this way, and eventually he had to send 
 into the shop to borrow a left-handed niblick. 
 Considering everything he made a wonderful 
 recovery, but not sufficiently good enough to 
 obtain the requisite half in four. 
 
 In connection with this tournament I wit- 
 nessed one of the pluckiest and most extraordi- 
 nary "get outs" I have ever seen in my life. It 
 was in a match between Arthur Molesworth and 
 John Forrest the latter, a local artisan, being 
 strongly fancied on the short, tricky course that 
 North Berwick then was. There was more than 
 glory to be gained in the winning of that match, 
 as its possibilities raised a speculative spirit. 
 Driving from the eighteenth tee, Forrest stood 
 dormie one. He hit quite a good tee shot, but 
 Molesworth topped his into the road ; he ploughed 
 the ball out, and played his third to the left of 
 the green, about fifteen yards from the hole. In 
 the meantime his opponent had put his approach 
 within about four yards of the hole, certainly not
 
 32 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 more. Molesworth was playing two more, and 
 even if he holed his approach as it certainly was 
 more an approach than a putt Forrest still had 
 two more for the match. Oh, the time Moles- 
 worth took over that shot ! Up and down he 
 walked, time after time ; in fact, so long was he 
 that eventually one of a very partisan crowd made 
 an audible remark, which was certainly not in 
 strict accordance with the etiquette of the game, 
 or in keeping with the solemnity of the occasion. 
 Molesworth was not at all disconcerted ; he simply 
 turned round to the spectator and tersely remarked, 
 " I suppose you think I am not going to hole 
 this ; you'll see," and hole it he did, using a long- 
 shafted driving-cleek. Now came the other man's 
 ' turn four yards from the hole and two for the 
 match, and that on a good green. He was using 
 a wooden putter ; I can remember it well. His 
 approach putt was short, and also dragged across 
 the hole to the left, the ball being left about 
 three feet from the hole. The final effort was 
 even worse, as it never looked like reaching its 
 destination. The end came at the nineteenth 
 hole, which Molesworth easily won. I was par-
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 33 
 
 ticularly interested in this finish as I had to meet 
 the winner, and he supplied me with the hardest 
 game I had in the tournament. 
 
 This success gave me confidence, and when I 
 entered for the Amateur Championship in 1891, 
 I had for the first time an idea that I had some 
 slight chance of winning, the chief aid to this 
 end being the avoidance of John Ball, jun., 
 whose golfing virtues I knew far too well. In 
 this respect the draw was very kind to me, as I 
 was drawn far away from him, and what was 
 more, nearly all the well-known players were in 
 the half in which he was drawn. There were 
 two men in my half of whom I was very much 
 afraid ; the first was F. A. Fairlie and the 
 other David Leitch. The latter I had every 
 reason to fear, as in previous practice he had 
 very ably demonstrated to me how St. Andrews 
 should be played. But fortune was on my 
 side ; Fairlie was ill and had to scratch, and 
 Wharton Tod obligingly removed Leitch from 
 the competition a real surprise, as at that 
 time David Leitch was just about the best 
 amateur golfer over St. Andrews. I have
 
 34 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 always felt very thankful to Wharton Tod for 
 that effort. 
 
 Eventually I reached the final, and had to 
 meet my old enemy, Laidlay. As in 1889, I 
 had the worst of the game. He took the 
 lead at the third hole, where I missed a 
 short putt for the half, upon which failure 
 some of the crowd sympathetically clapped 
 their hands. I once drew level, but was three 
 down at the turn. Then came a change. I 
 won the tenth and eleventh, and had all the 
 best of the twelfth, as in two strokes I was 
 just below the plateau, and Laidlay was some 
 five or six yards from the hole in three. My 
 third was quite a simple shot to play, as I had 
 . not to allow for anything but the rise of the 
 hill. What did I do? I took my eye off the 
 ball, hit the ground behind it, and never even 
 reached the plateau, as the ball quietly rolled 
 back almost to the same place from which I 
 had attempted to play it. I eventually lost that 
 hole, a hole which I looked like winning. It 
 was a big turning-point in the game, as Laidlay 
 was now two up, a lead he increased to three
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 35 
 
 up with five to play. By the time the seven- 
 teenth had been holed out I had managed to 
 get two of these holes back. The last hole was 
 against the wind. We were both well short of 
 the green in two. He played his approach first, 
 a very fair shot. I considerably improved upon 
 this, as my pitch ran quite close up to the feet of 
 old Tom, who was standing at the hole. I could 
 not tell quite how close it was, and was agree- 
 ably surprised when I came up to find that it 
 was within two feet of the hole. Laidlay missed 
 his long putt, and I had that two-footer to 
 halve the match. For the first time during 
 the game I felt really nervous. It flashed 
 through my mind, " What a fool you will be if 
 you miss this ! " but I managed to scramble it 
 in, and then came hole number nineteen. I have 
 always considered that I was robbed of that 
 hole certainly legitimately robbed as my 
 opponent deserved the half he obtained on 
 account of the beautiful run up he played, but 
 at one time it looked any odds on my winning 
 my first championship. My tee shot was not of 
 the best, as I got slightly under it. Laidlay's
 
 36 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 was some twenty yards farther. When I came 
 up to my ball I found that it was lying in a 
 freshly cut divot mark ; in any case the carry 
 was a long one for me, but the lie made it all 
 the more difficult. Coming to the conclusion 
 that he was sure to get over in two, I decided 
 to have a go for it, and it came off. I nearly 
 hit the pin, and ran about five or six yards 
 past the hole. Laidlay hesitated for a moment, 
 and then took his cleek, with which he played 
 a really wicked shot, as he hooked it right 
 round. It cleared the burn, chiefly on account 
 of the fact that the burn bends in towards the 
 player at that point. Even although he was 
 over, however, I felt quite in clover, for he had 
 'one of the most difficult shots in the world to 
 play, as he could not possibly pitch the shot, 
 and in running the stroke he had of necessity 
 to just trickle it over the hill. The slightest 
 extra pace would have put him yards past the 
 pin, as the hole was placed on the left-hand 
 corner of the green. That shot came off. It 
 was beautifully played, and deserved to finish 
 where it did, that is, within three feet of the
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 37 
 
 hole, with the result that a half in four was 
 called. The next hole saw the end. I simply 
 threw it away, as I had all the best of the tee 
 shot, and could have reached home with my 
 second ; but, thinking that a very indifferent 
 second of my opponent's was bunkered on the 
 left as it happened it was not I played far 
 too safely on the right; I paid the penalty 
 by getting a lie in a divot mark on an old 
 teeing ground, and from there fooled about 
 until I had taken six to hole out. Still, a 
 silver medal was an improvement on previous 
 performances, and I could see the possibility of 
 a gold one in the future. How long I had to 
 wait for it is recorded in history. 
 
 This year I made my bow in the open cham- 
 pionship and did fairly well, as I finished second 
 amateur, Mure Fergus son being first, and in the 
 whole list tied with Willie Auchterlonie, then 
 playing as an amateur, for seventh place. Up to 
 that time I had seen little either of professionals 
 or professional golf. The latter, I knew, could 
 not be very much better than that of the best 
 amateur description, as Johnnie Ball had some-
 
 38 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 what easily won the Open Championship at 
 Prestwick in the previous year. As regards the 
 professionals themselves, I knew literally nothing 
 outside our home professionals at Hoylake. I 
 had always heard, however, that they were chiefly 
 persons who were invariably willing to back 
 themselves to beat anything walking or crawl- 
 ing, and my first experience of them tended to 
 confirm this reputation. 
 
 I was standing by the last green when an 
 individual came up to me, and, without a word 
 of preface, suggested that he was willing to do 
 something. I could not grasp his broad Doric, 
 and begged his pardon for not being able to 
 do so. On a repetition of what I had come to 
 the conclusion must be a challenge of some de- 
 scription, I found out that he wished to back 
 his score against mine on the morrow. Never 
 having seen the man before, I was a little taken 
 aback, not to say annoyed, and replied, " I 
 have not the faintest idea who you are, and if 
 I had I should certainly not bet with you." 
 I afterwards found out that he was a player 
 whose name was not unknown in connection
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 39 
 
 with championship honours in the past, and I 
 may remark he would have just annexed my 
 sovereign. This championship was quite an ex- 
 cellent experience, which probably stood me in 
 good stead in the following year. 
 
 1892 was my first big year. My past cham- 
 pionship experiences had been of great service 
 to me. I had by degrees realised the various 
 essentials which a man must possess if he 
 wishes to win championships. First, it was 
 essential that the player should go out to win. 
 The feeling that if you got through a round or 
 two and then ran a big man very close, may be 
 an eminently satisfactory attitude of mind for a 
 youngster, but is of no use for winning cham- 
 pionships. Whatever your chance might be, you 
 had to go for the gloves, was an impression left 
 on my mind, and these impressions certainly 
 stood me in good stead at Sandwich in the 
 amateur event. I had quite a favourable posi- 
 tion in the draw, and took every advantage of 
 it by reaching the penultimate round, when I 
 had to meet my conqueror of 1889 and 1891, 
 John Laidlay. I had been playing better than
 
 40 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 ever I had done in my life, and I felt there 
 was a good prospect of reversing the old order 
 of affairs. My confidence was not misplaced, as 
 I took the lead early in the round, and, never 
 looking back, won on the fourteenth green. 
 
 Having disposed of one crack, I now had to 
 meet another, viz., John Ball, jun. Now Johnnie 
 had not been playing his usual accurate game 
 at that meeting. His task had been a hard 
 one, as he had been given a lot of difficult 
 men to beat. In the very first round it ap- 
 peared a moral certainty that his chance of 
 championship honours had gone for the year, as 
 he was four down at the tenth hole, and, what 
 was worse, had missed his second to the eleventh. 
 But his opponent, Andy Stuart, then made a 
 most fatal blunder, topping his second into the 
 bunker on the ridge guarding the green, and 
 losing a hole which he certainly should have 
 halved, if not won. The incident seemed to 
 have a demoralising effect on his play, as he 
 could do no good afterwards and was eventually 
 beaten. 
 
 Again, against Leslie Balfour and Horace
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 41 
 
 Hutchinson, Johnnie only just got home by 
 holing very missable putts on the last green, 
 and that after being four up on each of them 
 at one time. But " all's well that ends well," and 
 he reached the final, where I had to meet him. 
 It was not a great game as regards play, but 
 there was never much in it, and at the twelfth 
 hole we stood all square. Then came one of 
 those little turns of fortune which tend to decide 
 a match. At the thirteenth hole he ran down 
 quite a longish putt for a four, and at the same 
 time for the hole. 
 
 To the fourteenth I had the best of the wooden 
 club play, my second being quite close to the 
 bunker guarding the green, whilst his was some 
 way short, and as the approach was down wind 
 and the green keen, I held a distinct advantage. 
 His approach was not a good one ; it was far 
 too merry and looked like finishing in the rushes 
 beyond the green, but it struck the guiding post 
 on the far edge of the green and bounced back. 
 My third finished some seven or eight yards past 
 the pin. His run up he played beautifully, and 
 nearly holed it, the ball finishing about a foot
 
 42 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 past the hole. Now my approach putt had to 
 be played on a slippery green with a ball just 
 beyond the hole. The rules of golf decree that 
 if your opponent's ball is in the way and the 
 distance between the balls is more than six inches, 
 you have to play your ball as it lies. This fact 
 crossed my mind and I played this approach 
 putt very gingerly, with the result that I was 
 five feet short and then missed the subsequent 
 putt. I was now two down and my chances 
 were quickly vanishing away. The climax came 
 at the fifteenth. With our approaches we were 
 both on the line to the left of the hole, and 
 were left with most difficult approach putts. I 
 had to play first and was far too strong. He 
 played and was also too strong ; but the ball met 
 the hole, took a leap in the air and fell in, thus 
 concluding a somewhat cruel sequence. The end 
 came on the seventeenth green. I always con- 
 sider that this was the only final I ever played 
 in which fortune was a little unkind to me, 
 and I have played in five. 
 
 After this came my success at Miiirfield. The 
 circumstances under which I happened to go to
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 43 
 
 Muirfield were somewhat peculiar and interest- 
 ing. A few weeks before the event I had no 
 intention of going, chiefly for the reason that 
 I did not think it was worth the financial 
 outlay ; but a week or so before the meeting I 
 received an invitation from a friend to come 
 and stay with him during the meeting. I have 
 always been thankful to him ever since for that 
 invitation ; had it not come I should certainly 
 not have been present. Still, invitation thrown 
 in, I could not make up my mind, chiefly for 
 the reason that I knew the parental wishes 
 were against such a proceeding, and the par- 
 ental wishes in those days also coincided with 
 those of the employer. Eventually I sum- 
 moned up courage to suggest that I should 
 like to go this being about four o'clock on 
 the Monday afternoon, and the championship 
 began on Wednesday. The suggestion was 
 not received with acclamation or loud cheers, 
 but finally the words came forth, " Well, go 
 if you want to go ; but I cannot see much 
 use in your going." As I wanted badly, I wasted 
 no time, and was off by the midnight train.
 
 44 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 Just one day for practice, and I made full 
 use of it, as I played three rounds, a rather 
 austere training for a championship on top of 
 an all-night journey. I remember the first 
 round I managed to beat the record of the 
 course, and this so impressed my opponent, 
 Garden Smith, that he promptly foraged round 
 to find some one who would lay odds against 
 me, and was eventually rewarded with the 
 remunerative odds of four to one. Not feeling 
 quite safe, he also backed Willie Park at the 
 same odds ; then when I told him I thought 
 Johnnie Ball would win, four to one was also 
 taken about Johnnie, and he found himself in 
 the happy financial position of having laid the 
 odds of six to four on three players against the 
 field. As it happened, the wager came off all 
 right, and he was quite justified when he after- 
 wards remarked that he who laughs last laughs 
 best. 
 
 My first round in the championship was quite 
 fair, viz., 78 four strokes behind the leader, 
 Horace Hutchinson. The commencement of my 
 second round was terrible. The first six holes
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 45 
 
 were holed out in 29, only one under fives ; 
 but worse was to follow, as I found my tee 
 shot lying up against a thistle, of which there 
 were a goodly number at Muirfield in those 
 days. The carry on to the green was over the 
 bunker which at present guards the short hole 
 coming in, but in 1892 it was an infinitely 
 worse hazard than it is to-day. I foolishly de- 
 cided to go for it, and paid the penalty, as 
 I got up to my neck in the sand, and tak- 
 ing three to get out, eventually holed out in 
 seven. Now I happened to have two side wagers 
 on my score, and this fact probably saved me 
 from going to pieces, as I played to save them, 
 and by the aid of a good finish, got round in 
 81, eight strokes behind the leader, once again 
 Horace Hutchinson. On day number two, how- 
 ever, there was a different tale to tell. I could 
 hardly do any wrong. I began by nearly holing 
 out the first hole in one. The late Mr. 
 Edward Blyth, who was at the hole, told 
 me that he could not understand how the ball 
 did not stay in the hole. After that came a 
 succession of fours, until the eighth hole was
 
 46 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 reached that is, the present long fifth hole ; 
 there I met with a temporary check, as from 
 the tee I found a pot bunker, which has since 
 been filled up, and a six was recorded ; but a 
 mashie shot laid stone dead at the ninth enabled 
 me to get out in 35, just ten strokes better than 
 my total of the previous round. Homeward I 
 threw little away, and finished in 72, a score 
 which at a bound threw me into second place, 
 three strokes behind Johnnie Ball. 
 
 Now my last round was a lucky one. I com- 
 menced most unpromisingly with a four and 
 a six ; then came the first piece of fortune, as, 
 after pushing my second out at the third, I 
 actually holed my little pitch of about twenty 
 yards ; to any one who knows that third green 
 at Muirfield, the value of this shot can readily 
 be understood. It is certainly the most tricky 
 putting-green on the course, and, what was more, 
 that shot gave me heart of grace. At hole number 
 six another of these pleasing accidents occurred, 
 but this time the distance was not so long, and 
 certainly it was a much easier shot. These two 
 unexpected threes were mainly instrumental in
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 47 
 
 my getting out in 38, as on the whole my golf 
 had not been the soundest of the sound. Just 
 then I heard a spectator remark, " He has a 76 
 to win," thus leaving me 38 for the homeward 
 journey, which was much shorter than the out- 
 ward half. I commenced the task well, as the 
 first three holes, the present seventh, eighth, and 
 ninth, were all fours, and I made my position 
 more secure by laying a mashie shot stone dead 
 at the next. A four and a three followed, and 
 I began to think I must have a little bit in 
 hand how much I didn't dare to think. I had 
 a clear green, and was travelling at a terrible 
 pace, fairly running my poor partner, Jacky 
 Ferguson, off his legs, Then we had to wait 
 on the tee, and I heard a spectator say, " Oh, he 
 can't lose unless he has a fit and falls down 
 dead ; he has eighteen for the last three to 
 win." It might be thought that this remark 
 would instil confidence into my soul, but on 
 the other hand it made me anxious, and I 
 played the sixteenth hole terribly safe, pitching 
 my approach right over the green, and I was 
 eventually hard pushed to get down in five. At
 
 48 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 the next, a shortish hole, played over the bunker 
 guarding the present twelfth hole, I heaved a 
 sigh of relief when they signalled all clear, as 
 I had got under the ball a little. A three was 
 registered there, which left me with an eight for 
 the last to win. There was only about one way 
 I could lose, and that was by topping my tee 
 shot into the bunker at my feet; I avoided 
 that mistake, and, taking no risks, carefully 
 holed out in six. 
 
 Now when I look back at that round I cannot 
 but realise that fortune was very much on my 
 side. Firstly, I holed two mashie pitches. General 
 report had it afterwards that I was holing iron 
 shots all over the green. This was not true, as 
 the aggregate length of the two shots was pro- 
 bably not more than forty yards, and on many 
 greens it would not have been necessary to use 
 an iron at all, as a putter would have sufficed. But 
 in 1892 Muirfield was quite a new green, and 
 the putting-greens were very small indeed, and 
 the grass just off the green was invariably very 
 rough. Still, considering the conditions and the 
 state of the game, these two shots were very
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 49 
 
 useful. Then again, in that round I must have 
 holed at least six or seven very missable putts, 
 some of them as long as nine or ten feet, and 
 this holing out does tell in the scoring game. 
 
 I have always had an idea that the fact that 
 I had enjoyed about three months' practice over 
 the Formby course was of great assistance to me 
 in this Muirfield championship. The greens there 
 were somewhat similar in size to those at Muir- 
 field, and in consequence there was a good deal 
 of the pitching from the rough at the edge of 
 green which was such a feature of the play at 
 Muirfield in 1892. 
 
 To conclude, I may say that when I went up 
 North I had no designs upon the championship. 
 My ambition leaned towards the amateur event. 
 To me it seemed silly to win the open event 
 before the amateur, and after the event I could 
 not realise that I had secured the bigger prize 
 before the lesser. 
 
 D
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 IN 1893 I commenced my golfing career as a 
 man with a reputation a reputation begotten of 
 my success in the Open Championship. I must 
 candidly acknowledge that the burden did not sit 
 heavily on my shoulders, since in many respects 
 I quite agreed with the numerous critics who 
 averred that I was lucky to win at Muirfield, 
 and moreover that I should never have won had 
 the competition been played over a links which, 
 as a test of the game, might be considered worthy 
 of the occasion. With both these propositions 
 I in the main agree, as in my own mind I 
 had no other idea but that on the second day 
 I was distinctly the favourite of fortune, and the 
 short length and the conformation of the links 
 were quite suited to my style of play. I have 
 therefore always felt very grateful to the Honour- 
 able Company of Edinburgh Golfers for robbing 
 
 BO
 
 MY GOLFING KEMINISCENCES 51 
 
 Musselburgh of its ancient birthright and trans- 
 ferring the championship to Muirfield, and have 
 ever since maintained that they were quite right 
 in so doing. As regards the justice of the act I 
 am afraid I had not a sufficient knowledge of 
 the subject to form an opinion. 
 
 My first effort to uphold my reputation as a 
 champion golfer was not at all successful. The 
 event was the Amateur Championship at Prest- 
 wick and it was an occasion which provided 
 Freddie Tait with his maiden eifort at my expense. 
 The draw decreed that we should meet in the 
 first round. I believe I was a decided favourite 
 for the heat, and I know of one or two people 
 who laid considerable odds upon me. They even- 
 tually had to pay, however, as I was beaten on 
 the sixteenth green, simply for the reason that I 
 missed literally every holeable putt. The hole 
 seemed very small that day. I did not think 
 much of this defeat at the time, but had I been 
 able to look into the future I should probably 
 have viewed it in a very different light. 
 
 This championship at Prestwick was one of the 
 most peculiar I have ever witnessed. Eventually
 
 52 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 the young St. Andrews student, Peter Anderson, 
 proved the winner ; but apart from any ques- 
 tion as to whether on his play he deserved his 
 success, there can be little doubt that fate was 
 kind to him. Firstly, in order to reach the 
 semi-final round he had no men of great note 
 to meet ; when he reached that semi-final round 
 he was confronted by a player who in the pre- 
 vious heats had been playing very fine golf- 
 that player was Mure Fergusson but who, when 
 he came to play on the last day, was suffering 
 from a severe attack of gout, which must have 
 had a very serious effect upon his play. He 
 could not put any pressure on his foot without 
 feeling great pain, and in the case of a free 
 , swinger, as he undoubtedly is, this must have 
 seriously affected his long game. In the final 
 round Peter Anderson had to meet Laidlay, and 
 the odds appeared considerably in favour of the 
 latter, who about that time was quite at his 
 best, as he proved later in the year in the Open 
 Championship. But in this final his game was 
 far below what it had been, and eventually he 
 was beaten on the last green.
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 53 
 
 I always remember one shot he played in 
 that match, which had a veiy considerable effect 
 on the result. Going to the third hole, Ander- 
 son, who had half missed his tee shot, had 
 been obliged to play his second well to the 
 left, so as to take the narrow angle of the 
 " Cardinal " bunker. Laidlay had hit a magni- 
 ficent tee shot just short of the " Cardinal," and 
 could have almost got home with another good 
 one. What did he do ? he absolutely hit the 
 ball hard on the top, and put it into the bunker 
 right under his feet ! In consequence he lost 
 a hole which he had an excellent chance 
 of winning. It was a disastrous mistake, par- 
 ticularly as he had won the first two holes, and 
 at the time it looked as if he would run away 
 with the game. I cannot help thinking that 
 that one frightful error had an effect on his 
 after play, as he certainly did not thereafter play 
 up to his previous form. 
 
 It was a peculiar and sensational champion- 
 ship, as Peter Anderson won and deserved to win 
 on account of his pluck alone, and big names 
 did not frighten him in the least. Still the
 
 54 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 other semi-finalists Freddie Tait, Laidlay, and 
 Mure Fergusson had much severer work to ac- 
 complish, and on their play any one of them 
 deserved to win. I have always thought that 
 the last-mentioned of this trio would have about 
 won that championship had not that attack of 
 gout found him out. 
 
 Mure Fergusson has not been a fortunate man 
 in championships. Twice has he been in the 
 final, and on one of these occasions, viz., at 
 Hoy lake in 1898, he had the most cruel luck. 
 But this is a tale of after years and must wait. 
 In 1893 at Prestwick he was undoubtedly play- 
 ing well, and although it may have been that had 
 he met Laidlay, the latter would have played 
 , better than he did against Peter Anderson, 
 still Mure Fergusson had a very big chance 
 that year. 
 
 It so happened that the Open Championship, 
 as well as the amateur event, took place at 
 Prestwick in 1893. I always remember a head- 
 line which appeared in a Glasgow evening paper 
 on the first day of the tournament. It read as 
 follows : " Hilton not to be champion again."
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 55 
 
 The headline was more than justified, for my very 
 first round ended in terrible disaster. I was out 
 in 37 ; no man could claim a lower total, and I 
 commenced the homeward journey with two fives. 
 Then a gentle little ten crept in, most of the 
 strokes being expended in close vicinity to the 
 wall. 
 
 What happened was this. A slightly fluffed 
 approach, played from the right, landed right on 
 the top of the wall, bounded up in the air, 
 and fell on the wrong side of the hazard. For 
 some time the ball could not be seen, but eventu- 
 ally it was found firmly wedged in between the 
 wall and a bunch of star grass. The first attempt 
 to dislodge it was very carefully thought out, as 
 not being able to see the ball unless I viewed 
 it from the perpendicular, I had to take a 
 good view and then diagnose its position. My 
 first diagnosis was wrong, or perhaps my aim 
 was at fault. Attempt number two had an 
 equally futile result ; then, without changing my 
 stance, I tried what brute force would do. I 
 hit hard at the spot at which I thought " she " 
 was resting, and out "she" came; brute force
 
 56 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 and temper had prevailed where care and equani- 
 mity had failed. It is not always thus in the 
 game of golf. 
 
 Eventually a ten was recorded, a very serious 
 handicap even in days when one could afford 
 to make an occasional serious mistake. Now- 
 a-days a really serious mistake literally puts one 
 out of court. The next six holes I played in 
 a state of semi-demoralisation. Sixes crept in 
 with alarming frequency, and I finished in 88, 
 no less than 51 of these strokes being ex- 
 pended upon these homeward nine holes. The 
 result was the aforesaid press notice, " Hilton not 
 to be champion again " a notice quite justified 
 by the result, as, notwithstanding three very good 
 .rounds, I finished ten strokes behind the winner 
 ten strokes all lost in that one half round ; 
 in fact, all lost in seven holes. 
 
 That year the championship was won by 
 Willie Auchterlonie, probably one of the biggest 
 surprises in the history of the game, as, except 
 on his native St. Andrews, he was quite an 
 unknown quantity. There must have been some 
 one, however, who appreciated his talent, as a
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 57 
 
 professional bookmaker tried his luck at making 
 a book on the event, and some one had the 
 temerity to back Auchterlonie at fifty to one. 
 The "bookie" afterwards remarked, "There are 
 some people who seem to know something about 
 this game; I've finished with it." 
 
 This championship of 1893 will always remain 
 memorable on account of the fact that it was 
 the occasion of the debut, of both Harry Vardon 
 and Taylor. At the time little was known about 
 Vardon, but Taylor had come up North with 
 the reputation of being a most promising recruit 
 to professional golf, and in the play previous to 
 the actual championship he more than justi- 
 fied this reputation. He took all the cracks 
 on in turn, and flattened them out. The Scot- 
 tish contingent could not make it out ; there 
 was still greater consternation when, in the 
 very first round, he handed in a card of 75, a 
 score quite unthought of, and tongues began 
 to wag rapidly about the new prodigy. The 
 occasion, however, proved too much for the 
 then novice, and from a first attempt of 75 he 
 fell in his second to 86, and eventually finished
 
 58 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 in tenth position. It was, however, an excellent 
 experience for him, which he turned to good 
 account next year at Sandwich. 
 
 Harry Vardon in the meanwhile was pursuing 
 the even tenor of his way quite unnoticed. Yet 
 he holed the first five holes in a very low total 
 something like 18 and then went to pieces; 
 but it was at this meeting that one or two of 
 us realised the possibilities in his game, and I 
 always thought from that time that he had the 
 makings of a very great player. 
 
 Auchterlonie won that championship, but I 
 have always held the opinion that there was 
 another player in the field who might readily 
 have gained the honour had he taken advantage 
 of his opportunities, and that was Mr. Laidlay. 
 He finished second, two strokes behind the winner, 
 but time after time he threw his chances away 
 by playing too much for safety. I happened to 
 be playing with him on the second day, so 
 that I saw the whole of his two rounds, and I 
 have no hesitation in saying that had he on 
 occasions exhibited a little more enterprise he 
 might readily have added the title of open
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 59 
 
 champion to his previous honours. But directly 
 he seemed to have a winning chance he threw 
 it away by playing too safely. From the con- 
 fident and accurate way he was playing there 
 certainly seemed no necessity for safety play. 
 
 One of the unlucky ones in that championship 
 was the late Hugh Kirkaldy. He was well to 
 the front on the first day, and was doing ex- 
 ceptionally well in the third round ; in fact, 
 going to the fifteenth hole he was leading the 
 whole field. To this hole his tee shot was on 
 the plateau, short of the pot bunker. His 
 second, played with a wooden club, the wind 
 being dead against him, was boldly played, but 
 he got a slight pull on the ball, or perhaps it 
 would be more correct to say, that he held a 
 little too much into the wind. The ball hovered 
 in the air, apparently doubtful whether to come 
 down straight into the bunker or swerve on to 
 the green, but eventually it decided to be per- 
 verse, and down it came into the bunker. And 
 what a lie ! Men had been there before, and 
 the hoof marks were deep and many. Poor 
 Hugh found one, with the result that the hole
 
 60 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 cost him eight strokes. Now Auchterlonie in the 
 same round played this fifteenth in almost iden- 
 tical fashion ; but his second shot just cleared 
 the hazard, and rolling down the hill, eventually 
 finished sufficiently near for him to hole out 
 in three, and it may be mentioned that at the 
 time he was doing none too well. 
 
 The year 1894 was not a particularly fortunate 
 one for me. I commenced my championship 
 career by once again suffering defeat at the hands 
 of Freddie Tait, and this on my home green at 
 Hoylake. It was a game rather devoid of in- 
 terest at least, from the sensational point of 
 view. I well remember winning the first two 
 holes, and feeling somewhat confident. Walk- 
 , ing to the third tee, a perfervid supporter of 
 Hoylake golf walked up to me, and, slapping 
 me on the back, remarked, " That's right, old 
 man ; rub it into him." No doubt he meant 
 well, but an important golf match is not the 
 time to slap a man on the back. Golf is not 
 wrestling, or even football, where such behaviour 
 may be perhaps tolerated. Two up in two holes 
 is what may be termed a useful dividend to
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 61 
 
 collect, but it quickly dwindled away, and eventu- 
 ally I found myself one down with two to play. 
 Going to the seventeenth hole now the six- 
 teenth, or "Dun" hole I put my approach 
 within a few feet of the hole, and felt quite 
 happy about it ; but Freddie improved upon 
 this, and put his approach inside mine. As it 
 happened, we both missed silly little putts, his 
 miss taking place after mine and just saving my 
 skin. The only incident at the last hole was 
 the fact that he had a putt of about fifteen 
 inches to win the match, and very nearly missed 
 it, the ball going right round the rim and then 
 resting on the lip before it fell back into the 
 hole. In the following round Freddie failed 
 rather badly against Mure Fergusson, being beaten 
 by four up and three to play, and that after 
 holding a lead on the outward journey. 
 
 The final in this championship between John 
 Ball, jun., and Mure Fergusson was a memor- 
 able one. The former won the first four holes, 
 and all seemed over ; but he could get no 
 " forrarder," and was surely and slowly pegged 
 back. Holes kept disappearing with varying
 
 62 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 frequency until the whole four had vanished, 
 with but two to play. There was naturally a 
 good deal of excitement, and Scotland's repre- 
 sentatives were wildly exuberant in their antici- 
 pations ; and I remember one well-known Scottish 
 golfer shouting out, " Johnnie Ball's beaten ; 
 he's funking." I didn't see him after the event, 
 but it is more than probable that when he had 
 seen the seventeenth hole played he had altered 
 his key. There the gentleman who was pre- 
 sumed to be funking brought off a shot which 
 will live in the memory of all who saw it. It 
 was one of those strokes which will be handed 
 down to history. Mure Fergusson had a fair 
 drive ; Johnnie Ball had a really good one, right 
 down on to the old race-course. The former 
 played very short with his second. Johnnie hesi- 
 tated a moment, and then went for the green. 
 He hit his ball as true as steel, and the ball 
 in its flight hardly ever left the pin, and finished 
 up just beyond the hole. It was a really big 
 shot played at a trying moment, and just when 
 it was wanted. He won that hole, and a half 
 at the last hole sufficed.
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 63 
 
 The Open Championship that year was played 
 at Sandwich, and it was a championship in 
 which the superiority of the professional over 
 his amateur brother was marked in a very de- 
 cided, not to say unpleasant, manner unpleasant 
 at least to those who held a more or less decided 
 opinion that the unpaid golfer was nearly, if not 
 quite, as good as the paid. And they certainly 
 had some justification in this belief, as in the 
 previous four years twice had an amateur 
 been successful, and Mr. Laidlay had run up 
 to Auchterlonie in the previous year. In fact, 
 considering the disparity in the number of the 
 players taking part in the event, the leading 
 amateurs had quite held their own with the 
 professionals. There was a rude awakening at 
 Sandwich in 1894, i s there were nearly twenty 
 strokes between the winner (Taylor) and Lieu- 
 tenant Tait, the first of the amateurs. It was 
 certainly Freddie Tait who saved the reputations 
 of the amateurs at that meeting. In the amateur 
 and professional tournament which took place 
 after the championship he reached the penulti- 
 mate round, and only succumbed to Douglas
 
 64 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 Holland on the twentieth green in a game about 
 which there are mixed opinions; but more of 
 this anon. 
 
 To revert to the personal. My own partici- 
 pation in the event proper ended at the thir- 
 teenth hole in the second round, where I found 
 a bunker in front of the green, in which were 
 stones and rocks of various sizes ; and I even- 
 tually decided to play the rest of the round 
 without troubling the marker. Not that this 
 individual visitation at all affected the destina- 
 tion of the championship ; I had dissipated my 
 chance in other hazards long before. There 
 was a very plausible excuse, however, and that 
 was that, just seventeen days before the cham- 
 pionship, I was practising with a new club which 
 Douglas M'Ewan, then stationed at Musselburgh, 
 had in the fulness of his heart made and pre- 
 sented to me. The club was not fashioned in 
 the handle to suit my grip, with the result that, 
 when I was playing the seventh hole at Formby, 
 my right hand in the downward swing lost 
 command of the club, leaving all the weight 
 on the left hand. The consequence was that I
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 65 
 
 hit the ground hard, and in doing so I tore 
 the main sinew leading to the first finger and 
 thumb clean away from the sheathing which 
 binds the sinews together in the wrist. I did 
 not think much of the incident at the moment ; 
 but thought more of it when I came to play 
 my next stroke, as in the upward swing I had 
 to let the club go out of my hands, the pain 
 was so great. I went straight back to the club- 
 house, and there met a doctor, who suggested 
 the usual simple remedies of water and ban- 
 dages, and then told me to try the wrist again 
 in a few days. I did try it, and the result was 
 disastrous, as after trying three gentle shots, I 
 had a go with it at the fourth, and the pain 
 was sufficient to suggest that there was some- 
 thing seriously wrong. It seemed to me as if 
 some one had unkindly struck me across the 
 wrist with a heavy stick. I wandered back to 
 the club-house and once again interviewed 
 my medical man, who at once advised me to 
 consult Dr. Robert Jones, the well - known 
 Liverpool specialist ; Dr. Jones took about ten 
 seconds to locate the injury, and promptly re-
 
 66 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 marked, " You must not play for two or three 
 months." The Open Championship was close at 
 hand, and my keenness overcoming my discretion, 
 I answered, "I must play at Sandwich the week 
 after next." " Well," said the doctor, " if you 
 do, it will probably always affect you." I took 
 my own line of action, and underwent drastic 
 treatment for the next ten days, with repeated 
 "firing" and continuous wearing of splints, and 
 I arrived at Sandwich without having used my 
 left wrist for ten days. 
 
 Before the championship I played ten holes, 
 but played them in a very gingerly fashion, and 
 as previously recorded, I took the opportunity in 
 the championship of picking up my ball at the 
 hole number thirteen in the second round, reserv- 
 ing myself for the St. George's Vase, which was 
 played immediately after the big event. I won 
 the Vase, and I always consider that it was the 
 finest performance I ever accomplished in my life. 
 In the first place, I had to play with Freddie Tait ; 
 not that I wanted to at all, as even in those early 
 days he had an effect upon my play, but I could 
 not get out of it. Not being sure whether I
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 67 
 
 could play or not, I had not arranged for a 
 partner. I asked the Secretary, the late Mr. 
 William Rutherford, whether he could find me 
 one. Presently he came and said, " I have found 
 you a partner Freddie Tait." I thanked him as 
 graciously as I could, but candidly I would rather 
 have played with some one a little less terrible. 
 It must have been a funny game to the spectator, 
 as from every tee he literally lost me. I had to 
 play with a very short club, and moreover a very 
 short swing, my main object being to avoid any 
 position which would necessitate a forcing stroke. 
 In this I was very successful, as I circumvented 
 the bunkers in the most approved fashion, and 
 I did have a day out with my mashie. Time 
 after time I laid my pitches within holing dis- 
 tances, with the result that at the end of the 
 first round I held a lead of three strokes from 
 my partner, and also from the rest of the field. 
 Round number two was an even more crucial one, 
 as my wrist was palpably beginning to tire ; still, 
 on the easy outward journey I once more avoided 
 trouble, and succeeded in gaining another stroke 
 on my opponent. But the trying homeward journey
 
 68 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 had now to be faced. At the tenth hole the lie 
 from my tee shot presented me with a serious 
 problem as regards distance. I could easily get 
 over the bunker, but I was lying down hill in a 
 divot mark just the lie I did not want. Per- 
 haps I should have played short, but I had a 
 heave at it, and finished in the bunker, with 
 the result that I dropped two of my lead of four 
 strokes. I held my own at the next hole, but 
 another stroke departed at the twelfth and another 
 at the thirteenth, both of which holes had to be 
 played more or less against the wind. The four- 
 teenth hole at Sandwich is not a hole built for 
 a lame duck, and much depended upon it. My 
 tee shot was my usual short one ; Tait's was, as 
 usual, thirty or forty yards further. With my 
 second I just managed to crawl over the water, 
 the shot being a low hooked one, which eventually 
 finished in the rough on the right hand side of 
 the course. Freddie could have almost pitched his 
 ball over with a mashie, but the stance was 
 an awkward one, the ball standing right away 
 above him. He first of all addressed it with an 
 iron club, then changed his mind and took a
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 69 
 
 wooden one and this ended in disaster, as he hit 
 it all along the ground into the water. He had 
 to drop and play four. This fourth was a beauty, 
 but the distance was too far, and he landed right 
 under the face of the bunker guarding the green. 
 To cut a long story short he holed out in seven, 
 and I scrambled a five, giving me a lead of two 
 strokes. The next hole he was on the green in 
 two, and holed out perfectly in four. I had to 
 rest content with a five. At the sixteenth I ob- 
 tained a hard half in four, but still I did not feel 
 at all safe with my simple lead of one stroke and 
 two holes to play. The usual thing happened 
 from the next tee. I was again miles behind, 
 but still I could reach the green, and that was 
 something ; and I did reach it, with a stroke 
 which could not be far from the pin. Mine enemy 
 obliged by hitting his approach off the socket, 
 and the lead was in consequence increased to two. 
 The same thing happened at the eighteenth. I 
 put my second near the hole, and again a socketer 
 came in response, and eventually I won by three 
 strokes. It was the only time I ever played 
 against Freddie Tait in which he may be said
 
 70 MY GOLFING EEMINISCENCES 
 
 to have in any way cracked, and he certainly 
 did crack when playing those last two holes. A 
 reader may here remark, "What about the rest 
 of the field ? " Well, to be candid, we both knew 
 some way from home that we were literally the 
 only two in it. One or two kindly spectators 
 had not forgotten to tell us so. I may be excused 
 in quoting this species of duel, as it was just 
 about the only time in my life I ever could claim 
 an advantage over Master Freddie, and the debit 
 balance is certainly a heavy one. 
 
 To return to the championship proper, it 
 ended in a signal triumph for Taylor, and he 
 thoroughly justified the big opinions formed 
 of him on his first appearance at Prestwick. 
 I always remember the remark of a prominent 
 St, George's member, who had followed Taylor 
 assiduously. At the end of the third round I 
 asked him whether Taylor was playing really 
 well. He replied, " I don't know what you 
 would call playing well, but as far as I can 
 see he has only one hazard to fear from the 
 tees, and that is the guide flags. I have never 
 seen anything like it," and from all testimony
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 71 
 
 which can be brought to bear on his perform- 
 ance he certainly must have been driving with 
 wonderful accuracy. Towards the finish of his 
 last round he naturally became a little anxious, 
 and I can well remember him playing the 
 fourteenth hole the hole above all others at 
 Sandwich which a player in a stroke competi- 
 tion likes to see behind him. It was played 
 against the wind, and the sun was low and 
 facing him. His tee shot was right down the 
 middle ; his second was not of the best, being 
 low and slightly hooked, and it cleared the bank 
 at the back of the water by a very narrow 
 margin. His third, a wooden club shot, had 
 to be played right in the face of the sun a 
 very trying stroke. He hit the ball well, but 
 apparently with a suspicion of slice on it, as 
 it went away to the right, and in the bright 
 facing light it was difficult to say where it 
 would finish. Taylor very apparently lost sight 
 of it, and either knowing that he must have 
 cut the shot, or else, judging by the anxious 
 look on the faces of the spectators, felt that 
 there was a doubt as to its safety. A shout
 
 72 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 that the ball was safe appeared to relieve him 
 immensely, and after that it was plain sailing 
 for him. He had passed the dreaded fourteenth. 
 This year, 1894, was one of the years in 
 which Andrew Kirkaldy appeared likely at last 
 to win a championship. At the end of the 
 third round he was three strokes behind Taylor, 
 who was leading. In the fourth round Andrew 
 was out in 36 exceptionally fine golf at that 
 time. I always remember the occasion, as I 
 had backed Andrew to win outright at the odds 
 of ten to one. At the turn a St. Andrews 
 man came up to me and excitedly remarked, 
 " Andrew is going to win." I acquiesced in 
 the opinion, and seeing an opportunity of bene- 
 , ficial hedging, offered to lay him even money. 
 He was at first a little suspicious, possibly 
 thinking that I knew something, but on being 
 told the circumstances of the original bet he 
 quickly accepted the odds. Judging by the 
 subsequent play I might be accorded the gift 
 of second sight, as from that time forth Andrew 
 played rubbish, finally finishing up by hitting 
 his approach to the last hole right on the
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 73 
 
 socket of his iron, the ball pitching on the 
 reporter's tent, which was supposed to lie quite 
 out of harm's way. Those last nine holes cost 
 him no less than 48 strokes, and from what I 
 saw of his play he deserved most of them. 
 
 After that championship the St. George's Club 
 promoted an amateur and professional tourna- 
 ment ; it was hoped that this would become 
 an annual fixture, but the Royal and Ancient 
 Club in the following year would have none of 
 it. Personally I think it was a pity that it 
 was not continued, as the amateur player has 
 but few chances of meeting the professional in 
 serious combat, and such opportunities would 
 to my mind be of great benefit to amateur 
 golf. 
 
 It was a most interesting event, and served 
 to emphasise two facts first, the superiority 
 of the professional over the amateur, and 
 second, the pluck and match-playing abilities 
 of Lieutenant Frederick Guthrie Tait. There 
 were eight amateurs selected and eight pro- 
 fessionals, and in each case an amateur was 
 drawn against a professional. Round number
 
 74 MY GOLFING KEMINISCENCES 
 
 one saw six out of the eight amateurs bow 
 the knee, the successful ones being Mr. John 
 Ball, who just got home against Willie Park, 
 and Lieutenant Tait, who somewhat easily beat 
 Archie Simpson. I well remember Archie being 
 somewhat disconsolate about his defeat, as 
 some of the professionals not selected in the 
 chosen eight had openly expressed their doubt 
 as 'to his right to inclusion. In round number 
 two Mr. Ball went down before Taylor, but 
 Lieutenant Tait easily held his own against 
 Willie Fernie, and then had to meet Douglas 
 Holland. What a game it was ! Holland won 
 on the twentieth green, and on the run of 
 the play deserved to win. He undoubtedly had 
 the best of the long game, and consistently out- 
 drove his opponent, who was not at his best 
 from the tee ; but in short approaching and 
 putting there was only one in it, and that was 
 not the professional. Indeed, it is more than 
 probable that the fact that Holland laid Freddie 
 a stymie on the seventeenth green saved the 
 former the match. In the final Holland beat
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 75 
 
 Taylor, as he generally did about that time. 
 Personally I have always looked upon that 
 tournament as one of the most interesting in 
 the history of the game, and it seems a pity 
 that it has never been repeated.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE year 1895 is one which I cannot look 
 back upon with any degree of satisfaction. In 
 truth, in the big events I was an obsolete 
 vessel. The injury to my wrist proved a severe 
 handicap, as it was quite impossible for me to 
 follow any continued course of practice ; di- 
 rectly I did there were the most evident signs 
 that the injury was still there, with the result 
 that before any competition which required a 
 more than average degree of continuous play, 
 I had to refrain from playing. Before the 
 Amateur Championship at St. Andrews I never 
 touched a club for fully a week previous to 
 the commencement of the tournament, and one 
 usually loses that delicate touch of the instru- 
 ment which is so essential even in an athletic 
 game such as the game of golf. 
 
 My career in that championship at St. Andrews
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 77 
 
 was short, without being altogether inglorious, 
 as I managed to get through one round, the 
 enemy being a very worthy opponent in the 
 person of my old friend, Charles Edward Dick. 
 In round number two William Greig barred the 
 way, and I had to cry enough at the sixteenth 
 hole. I had no complaint to make about 
 the match ; it was simply that I was outplayed. 
 It was not Greig's putting, for which he is 
 famous, that did for me : it was the general aver- 
 age excellence of his game. It was rather a 
 peculiar coincidence in the draw that there were 
 three representatives of the Royal Liverpool Club 
 very close together, and omitting John Ball, 
 jun., these three members Hutchings, Dick, 
 and the writer had probably the best chance of 
 bringing the trophy to Hoylake. I well remem- 
 ber suggesting in the Sporting Chronicle that 
 the proximity of these three in the draw was 
 somewhat of a hardship to the cause of Hoy- 
 lake golf. It was one of those usual growls about 
 the iniquity of the draw. As it so happened, 
 none of these three survived, as Greig defeated 
 Charles Hutchings, and as mentioned before he
 
 78 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 also accounted for the last survivor in the follow- 
 ing round. Perhaps they might have done better 
 had they been separated, but the luck of the 
 draw is all in the game, and William Greig 
 cleared out a goodly portion of the Hoylake 
 fleet. 
 
 The flagship of the fleet however, John Ball, 
 jun., was still afloat, and for once in a way 
 it may be said that he threw a championship 
 away, as few who witnessed the final round 
 when he played against Leslie Balf our- Melville 
 will forget. To hark back to the earlier stages 
 of the event, it must first be said that Freddie 
 Tait was a very decided favourite ; this favour- 
 itism was probably justified on form, but there 
 .can be little doubt that at St. Andrews in 
 1895 the Scottish portion of the spectators 
 were quite Tait mad. Freddie had then risen 
 to the position of a popular hero, and the 
 majority would not listen to the possibility of 
 defeat, this opinion being probably strengthened 
 by the " wish being father to the thought." 
 Well, everything went as merry as a marriage 
 bell for the favourite. He reached the penulti-
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 79 
 
 mate round without being severely stretched. 
 Then there was a very serious stumbling-block 
 to overcome John Ball, jun., to wit. There 
 have been very few matches in connection with 
 the championship which have evoked greater 
 interest. There was a delightful international 
 flavour about the meeting of these two ; they 
 represented the respective hopes of Scotland 
 and England, and moreover there was more 
 than a little wagering on the result. The 
 Scotsmen not only pinned their faith to Freddie 
 Tait on account of his golfing ability; they 
 argued to themselves that in the first place 
 he was playing over his home green, to which 
 he had always evinced a strong partiality, 
 whilst in the second his enemy had never done 
 well over the classic green, nor shown any 
 strong liking for its peculiarities ; and these 
 little facts seemed to turn the balance in 
 favour of the local man. Well, Freddie did 
 not win, and moreover did not win a single 
 hole. The fact that he had missed what ap- 
 peared to be a very simple putt on the very 
 first green seemed to have a demoralising effect
 
 80 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 on his play and, although it is always easy to 
 be wise after the event, there certainly was a 
 very decided impression amongst the onlookers 
 that after the first few holes had been played 
 he looked a beaten man. It was a crushing; 
 
 o 
 
 blow, and none felt it more keenly than the 
 vanquished man himself. For a short time after 
 the event he was just about the sickest man 
 in Europe. I can sympathise with him I have 
 been through it myself. 
 
 Naturally a very large proportion of the spec- 
 tators followed this Ball-Tait encounter, which 
 ended in such a tame fashion. They would per- 
 haps have been better employed in having a 
 peep at semi-final number two, between Laurence 
 Auchterlonie and Leslie Balfour. At that time 
 Auchterlonie was undoubtedly playing a very 
 fine game, and was strongly fancied by the 
 townspeople ; moreover that excellent judge of 
 the game, Mr. H. S. C. Everard, had a strong 
 predilection for his chance, and told rne before 
 the meeting began that he was sure to go 
 very close. Had he taken advantage of his 
 chance at the sixteenth hole he would certainly
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 81 
 
 have reached the final. Auchterlonie was on 
 the green in two, and withal quite close to the 
 hole two magnificent shots against the wind. 
 His opponent was all over the course, but finally 
 ran down a long putt for five. Auchterlonie 
 still had two for the hole, but his nerve ap- 
 parently deserted him, as he putted wide with 
 his approach putt, and then missed a very short 
 one. Notwithstanding this disaster however, he 
 still stood dormie one ; but the champion, who 
 was to be, saved himself at the eighteenth by 
 putting his second a full wooden club shot 
 within a few inches of the hole, and the end 
 came at the burn, where Auchterlonie's hopes 
 of the championship found a watery grave the 
 result of stroke number two. 
 
 The final was viewed in the light of a good 
 thing for Hoylake, and the Hoylake gamblers 
 did not hesitate to lay substantial odds on their 
 man, a piece of temerity which they eventually 
 had occasion to rue. At the third hole the odds 
 appeared quite justified, as Balfour-Melville stood 
 three holes in arrear; but he never gave up heart, 
 and gradually these holes came back. Then the
 
 82 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 luck went all against the Hoylake man, one 
 piece of ill fortune at the thirteenth hole being 
 particularly exasperating; from a good drive 
 the ball lodged in a little grassy pot, hard 
 against a shallow face, and on Johnnie attempt- 
 ing to play it, it struck the face, bounced back, 
 and hit the club result, a lost hole. Finally, 
 in place of Balfour-Melville being three down, 
 he stood in the comfortable position of dormie 
 two. 
 
 Now came another change, as Johnnie Ball 
 won the last two holes. The burn once 
 again came into evidence at this nineteenth 
 hole. Both were short with their seconds. 
 Balfour-Melville pitched over safely, but there 
 was a smothered groan when it was seen that 
 Johnnie Ball had gone right under his ball. To 
 spectators some distance off it was a doubtful 
 question as to whether it would clear the water 
 or not, but quickly came the fatal splash, and 
 the championship was as good as over. In a 
 sense, this fatal pitch at the nineteenth hole 
 was what might be termed an unpardonable 
 offence ; and the error was all the more un-
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 83 
 
 expected, as it was perpetrated by a man who 
 has hardly ever failed at a critical moment. 
 After the event many a man was heard to say, 
 " I never saw Johnnie Ball do a thing like 
 that before," and probably few ever had ; but 
 the slip was in a certain degree due to an error 
 of judgment in the choice of the club, as pre- 
 vious to this shot he had been playing all his 
 short approaches with a comparatively straight- 
 faced club, and he could no doubt have success- 
 fully negotiated this pitch across the burn with 
 the same club, but in an evil moment he took 
 out his pitching mashie a club he had hardly 
 touched during the week's play. 
 
 A close analysis of the results in this 
 championship would lead one to the belief that 
 Leslie Balfour-Melville was somewhat lucky to 
 win, as all of his last three heats were won 
 on the nineteenth green, and on each occasion 
 his success at this particular hole was chiefly 
 due to mistakes on the part of his opponents. 
 On the first occasion William Greig obligingly 
 placed his second into the burn ; on occasion 
 number two, Laurence Auchterlonie was equally
 
 84 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 obliging, and the narrow strip of water did 
 not fail to come to the winner's aid in the 
 final round. Still this is all in the game, and 
 there could he no doubt that he played up most 
 pluckily on every occasion, and it is pluck as 
 much as ability that wins championships. 
 
 My own participation in the open event that 
 year, also played at St. Andrews, may be dis- 
 missed in a very few lines. In the first round 
 I seemed to play against the wind all the way 
 round, and as the men playing just behind me 
 and just in front of me confirmed this opinion, 
 I am justified in thinking that this assump- 
 tion was not all pure imagination. Another 
 fact impressed upon my memory is that we 
 played the seventeenth hole in a hailstorm, 
 and that in the month of June. In addition 
 to these adverse climatic conditions, it must be 
 truthfully added, that from a playing point of 
 view I was not making at all good weather of 
 it a fact which filled my caddie with the most 
 evident disgust, which he did not take the 
 slightest pains to hide. The finale came at 
 the sixteenth hole. A friend shouted out to
 
 MY GOLFING EEMINISCENCES 85 
 me, " How are you getting on ? " Before I could 
 reply, my faithful henchman had grasped the 
 opportunity of giving his idea of the situa- 
 tion. It was as follows: "Not o'er weel, at any 
 rate ; we're playing domd badly." I certainly 
 could not refute the statement ; it was very, 
 very true. 
 
 This championship supplied one of Sandy 
 Herd's numerous disappointments. He was 
 leading at the end of the second round, and 
 also at the end of the third round three 
 strokes dividing his score from that of Taylor, 
 who lay second. In the afternoon there was 
 a sudden change of weather first the wind 
 began to blow and then the rain came down. 
 Herd played the first few holes without much 
 rain, and made an excellent start ; but then 
 the elements began to play ducks and drakes 
 with his game. He kept dropping strokes at 
 nearly every hole, until he eventually took as 
 many as 85. Still he had far from lost the 
 championship, as it was not at all an easy day. 
 Taylor had to face some of the worst of the 
 weather in the first few holes played, and at
 
 86 
 
 the fourth hole he had dropped two more 
 strokes to Herd ; then the weather improved a 
 little, and he fairly got going. That the effect 
 of the rain was beneficial to his play was evi- 
 dent, as the saturated turf enabled him to 
 pitch his iron shots up to the pin, and also 
 allowed him to ram his putts at the back of 
 the hole, both forms of the game to which he 
 is very partial. And he did putt too, not actu- 
 ally phenomenally, but never a mistake down 
 in two every time. A few holes from home he 
 had the championship literally in safe keep- 
 ing ; he made no mistake thereafter, and won 
 easily. 
 
 It has always been generally considered that 
 the rain saved Taylor that day, and perhaps 
 there is some truth in the contention, as 
 there can be but little doubt that once he 
 felt that he could play boldly at the hole, he 
 played with infinitely greater confidence than 
 he had been doing on the hard and slippery 
 turf. Again, Herd is a stamp of putter who 
 likes a keen putting green. He trickles his 
 putts, and in the final round he could not get
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 87 
 
 up to the hole, being short in his approach 
 putts time after time. Sandy has never been 
 very lucky in championships. 
 
 During the winter I took the opportunity of 
 giving my injured wrist a good rest, as for three 
 months I never touched a club, and when I 
 began to play again I quickly realised the 
 wisdom of this act. I was still very chary 
 about playing forcing shots from bad lies, and 
 when playing them could not get away from 
 the habit of letting go my left hand ; it had 
 gradually become a species of second nature. 
 The championship at Sandwich, however, sup- 
 plied me with a really good and severe test. 
 The programme at Sandwich is always slightly 
 more trying than that on other championship 
 greens, owing to the competition for the St. 
 George's Vase, which from the St. George's tees 
 is a severe trial. In the championship I was 
 distinctly favoured in the draw ; in fact, this 
 said draw at Sandwich was one of the most 
 unequal in the history of the championship, as 
 in the top half there were heaps of celebri- 
 ties, whilst in the bottom half there were but
 
 88 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 few, and fortunately I happened to be in the 
 bottom half. As it happened I went on win- 
 ning my rounds, and in each succeeding round 
 I found that my wrist seemed to gain strength, 
 and this greatly added to my confidence. 
 So I played on boldly as if nothing was 
 the matter with my wrist, and although I 
 occasionally felt a nasty jar I still persevered, 
 and the farther I went the less I felt the 
 injury. 
 
 One round in the earlier stages I shall always 
 remember ; it was the round in which I had to 
 meet H. S. Colt, and it was played in the morn- 
 ing of the day when the memorable storm swept 
 down upon Sandwich like an avalanche. It was 
 the most remarkable change of weather I have 
 ever experienced ; the early morning supplied quite 
 good golfing weather, but about twelve o'clock 
 there was an ominous appearance in the sky. 
 Something was coming was very evident, as the 
 sky was as black as ink, but I think few were 
 quite prepared for what did come. Without a 
 moment's notice the wind swept down the course 
 carrying everything before it and almost instan-
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 89 
 
 taneously flattening down the press and other 
 tents. 
 
 At the time this little episode occurred I 
 happened to be addressing my ball going to the 
 tenth hole, played down wind. I managed to hit 
 my ball into the air, but the weight of the wind 
 soon brought it to mother earth. The last I saw 
 of it for some time was a white object careering 
 over the mounds like a feather. My opponent 
 was nearly blown on his face, and just managed 
 to scramble the ball off the tee, but the wind 
 carried it on a considerable distance. Then we 
 hurried to the best shelter we could obtain, and 
 with the aid of my opponent's umbrella, which 
 fortunately was of the tent-like variety, we 
 guarded ourselves from the elements for some- 
 thing like twenty minutes or half-an-hour. When 
 the unwelcome visitation had passed over, we pro- 
 ceeded to find the balls ; his was easily found, 
 but mine was not so easy to discover. Eventu- 
 ally we found it tucked up hard against the 
 face of the pot bunker, lying to the left of 
 the big bunker which has to be crossed with 
 the second shot. It must have been over 300
 
 90 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 yards from the tee, and yet that ball could 
 not have carried over 100 yards. The force 
 of the wind in that storm must have been 
 extraordinary. I never got out of that bunker ; 
 my hands were so cold I could not hold my 
 club. The play for the remainder of the round 
 approached the farcical. We were both so cold 
 that we could hardly hit the ball at all. At 
 first my opponent had the best of this farce, and 
 from being one down stood two up with five 
 to play; then the pendulum swung round the 
 other way. I squared the match, and eventually 
 scrambled home on the twentieth green, where 
 I had none the worst of the luck, as my 
 tee shot, had it been straight, would certainly 
 have been in the second bunker guarding the 
 green ; fortunately, however, it just skirted the 
 right-hand edge, and finished some ten yards 
 beyond, a fact which will give an idea as to the 
 strength of the wind. 
 
 I got through to the penultimate round, 
 and then had to meet John Graham, jun., 
 whom many termed the Hoylake novice. I 
 was not at all comfortable about the result,
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 91 
 
 as I knew well what the said youth could do. 
 People kept saying to me that he was sure 
 to break down, but I was not at all sure about 
 it; in fact I held the contrary opinion, that he 
 was little likely to do so. He can hardly be 
 said to have broken down, but it is true that 
 he did not play quite the game he had been 
 playing, his putting being particularly at fault, 
 and I got through somewhat easily. 
 
 In the final I received gruelling number three 
 from Freddie Tait. He was in a most merciless 
 mood, and I never had a chance. Not that I 
 was playing even indifferent golf, far from it, but 
 the truth was simply that I was outplayed in 
 every department of the game. Indeed there can 
 be but little doubt that this championship was 
 the one great particular triumph in Freddie 
 Tait's career. To begin with, he had won the 
 St. George's Vase, and in the championship too 
 he displayed extraordinarily fine form ; his win 
 was all the more meritorious on account of the 
 fact that he had an exceptionally severe position 
 in the draw, as in succession he had to meet 
 Charles Hutchings, Laidlay, John Ball, jun.,
 
 92 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 Horace Hutchinson, and the writer. He won 
 four of these heats very easily, and only once 
 was he in any way hustled, and that was 
 against Horace Hutchinson in the semi-final 
 round, when he was down on the way out. I 
 remember one of his keenest supporters coming 
 back to our match behind, and in a most tragic 
 voice remarking, " Oh my Lord, I believe 
 Freddie's funking; he's playing like a child." 
 He, however, threw this childish fit aside and 
 won comfortably. On a strict analysis of results 
 I have always considered this win of his at 
 Sandwich the finest ever accomplished in the 
 championship, the only two to compare with 
 it for ease being the win of John Ball, jun., 
 in 1890 at Hoylake, and that of the writer 
 at Sandwich in 1900, but in both instances the 
 individual opposition to be overcome was not 
 nearly so strong. 
 
 The Open Championship was that year played 
 at Muirfield. Personally I had little to say in 
 the matter. I simply played four rounds of 
 a very indifferent character, the only item of 
 interest in them being the fact that in each of
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 93 
 
 them I took the same number of strokes to 
 come home, and in three of them the same 
 number of strokes to go out. I would rather 
 not mention the figures. 
 
 It was a championship which heralded the 
 coming of Harry Vardon. Previous to the con- 
 test there were probably a few who knew what 
 a really fine player he was, and amongst those 
 few must be included Taylor. He knew all about 
 it, as just previous to the championship the fact 
 had been very clearly impressed upon him in 
 a match played at Ganton, when Hariy fairly 
 walked over him to the tune of something like 
 eight up and six to play. Still his chance was 
 not seriously considered by the majority, as was 
 proved by the very few people who took the 
 trouble to watch his play. It was once again 
 the old couple Taylor and Herd who drew the 
 crowd, and when the redoubtable Sandy led 
 off with a round of 72, every one immediately 
 remarked that his time had come at last, but 
 he fell away terribly in the second round, taking 
 over 80. Still he and Taylor were leading the 
 field at the end of the day's play, and it looked
 
 94 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 like a duel as in the previous year at St. Andrews. 
 In round number three Harry Vardon drew a 
 little nearer to the duellists. Still the public 
 never really considered his chance of success as 
 at all a likely one, and the spectators still left 
 him to play unattended. Taylor, who was an 
 early starter, finished in a steady 80 a score 
 which, whilst not making him at all safe, gave 
 him a total which would require some beating. 
 Herd was a very late starter, whilst Harry 
 Vardon was sandwiched in between them. That 
 day Vardon had been playing with James 
 Kinnell, and the latter decided to retire after 
 the first round. I happened to be playing with 
 old Tom, who for once in a way had departed 
 from his usual custom of retiring after the first 
 day's play. This extra round proved too much 
 for him, and he retired in consequence. I was 
 asked to play with Vardon in the fourth round, 
 and I readily acquiesced. When we had gone 
 some way round we heard that Taylor had 
 finished in 80, leaving Harry a total of 77 to 
 tie with him. It was a score which did not
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 95 
 
 allow for many mistakes, but Harry was always 
 just there or thereabouts. Occasionally he got 
 behind schedule, but promptly picked up the 
 necessary stroke again. Even if he did tie with 
 Taylor, however, or even beat him, there was 
 always Herd to reckon with. As it so happened, 
 when we were playing the fifteenth hole we met 
 Herd's crowd coming up to the fourth, and 
 what was more, we saw Herd hacking away in 
 a big bunch of star grass on the edge of the 
 bunker which divides the two courses. Whether 
 this sight did Harry good or not I cannot say, 
 but I do know that he promptly holed a mighty 
 useful putt a putt which made all the differ- 
 ence in the world ; it left him a total of 1 4 
 strokes for the last three holes to tie, and there 
 is a big difference between 13 and 14 for 
 those last three holes at Muirfield. He did 
 them in 14, playing carefully, and taking no 
 undue risks. Poor Herd never got over that 
 disaster at the fourth hole, and was out of it 
 some way from home. Harry Vardon won the 
 play off, and won his first championship.
 
 96 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 Now to give an idea as to what extent his 
 chance was esteemed by the general run of 
 the spectators, it may be mentioned that we 
 started that last round without a single indivi- 
 dual watching. Eventually one casual spectator 
 strolled up and followed us for a few holes, and 
 finally asked me who I was playing with. When 
 I told him, he didn't seem very much enlightened 
 or impressed and eventually left us. Going to 
 the twelfth hole, three or four of Taylor's crowd 
 joined us, the remainder going off with Herd, 
 who was just starting. When we met Herd's 
 crowd, a friend asked me, " How is your 
 man going?" I replied, "He is just about 
 going to win." My friend joined the gradually 
 . increasing army, and eventually Harry Vardon, 
 the ultimate winner, had ten spectators to see 
 him play the last hole ; had we not met 
 Herd's crowd I doubt whether there would have 
 been more than four. It seems absurd, but it 
 is true. I know we played the sixth, seventh, 
 eighth, ninth, tenth, and eleventh holes without 
 a single spectator.
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 97 
 
 Before passing away from this championship 
 a reference must be made to Freddie Tait. At 
 Sandwich he had proved himself to be incom- 
 parably the best amateur golfer of the year, and 
 at Muirfield he quite upheld this reputation ; 
 he made a gallant fight on the last day, and 
 always maintained that but for bad luck he 
 would have tied with Vardon and Taylor. I 
 cannot say what happened before he played 
 the sixteenth hole, but going to that hole he 
 had to do an average of fours to tie a pretty 
 tall order, particularly as the sixteenth green 
 was then quite new and very uneven, and it 
 was this green which certainly did away with 
 any chance that he had. His third was some 
 eight yards from the hole. His putt seemed to 
 be hit quite truly, but when about half-way to 
 the hole it struck some obstruction ; this took 
 all the pace off the ball, and it stopped a good 
 two yards short of the hole, from which distance 
 he failed to hole out. Had he holed this putt 
 he would have had left a total of seven for the last 
 
 two holes. Of course the seventeenth is a very 
 
 G
 
 98 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 possible three, and it was far from beyond his 
 powers to reach the last green in two, but it is 
 a charitable conclusion to think that that rub 
 on the sixteenth green lost him the chance of 
 playing oif with Vardon and Taylor.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 AFTER three years of comparatively profitless 
 work came one which resulted in a rich and 
 plentiful harvest. This was 1897 ; and al- 
 though there may have been seasons in which 
 I have played golf of an equally good character, 
 still this year of 1897 is the one above any 
 other year in which I turned my good play to 
 account. Apart from a bad failure in the Amateur 
 Championship, I managed to prove successful in 
 nearly every event I took part in, including the 
 Open Championship at Hoylake. 
 
 The Amateur Championship that year at Muir- 
 field will always be remembered as "the cham- 
 pionship of surprises." The big men went down 
 one after another like ninepins. First Laidlay 
 succumbed on the twentieth green to quite an 
 unknown player, then Greig proved too much for 
 
 99
 
 100 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 Freddie Tait, and John Ball, jun., had to depart 
 on the twenty-third green. His defeat, however, 
 was a distinctly honourable one, as, in the first 
 place, his opponent was Robert Maxwell, and 
 then, to aid this young gentleman's natural golfing 
 ability, he had Sayers as a mentor, and this meant 
 much to an inexperienced player, particularly 
 over Muirfield, which Sayers knew well. To 
 my mind that match was one of the finest I 
 have ever seen in the history of the cham- 
 pionship, the play in the extra five holes being 
 far above what is usually seen on these trying 
 occasions. 
 
 I was left to try and avenge the defeat of 
 my club-mate at the hands of Maxwell, and a 
 sorry effort I made. There was no excuse for 
 my failure, as in preliminary practice I had 
 been playing well, but in the previous heat 
 it had become very evident to my inner con- 
 sciousness that I was playing very jumpily, 
 and that a little of my former confidence 
 had disappeared. Still I trusted that it was 
 but a very temporary lapse. Unfortunately it
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 101 
 
 proved a very lasting lapse, as after accom- 
 plishing one very useful feat at the first hole, 
 where I ran down a long putt for the hole, 
 I never did anything even worthy of the 
 faintest praise. For the remainder of the 
 match it is true that I was accorded a very 
 varied experience in the matter of manipulating 
 stymies, none of which, by the way, I suc- 
 ceeded in overcoming ; but not by the most 
 egotistical stretch of imagination can I think 
 that it made any difference in the result. As 
 Freddie Tait would say, " I could play none." 
 And what is more, for the rest of the week 
 my golf was of a similarly helpless nature ; 
 in one match in which I partnered John Ball, 
 jun., against Freddie Tait and Jack Graham 
 the game being a four-ball match not on 
 one single occasion was I of any assistance 
 to my partner. I couldn't drive, I couldn't 
 approach, nor could I putt. Still, we won that 
 match. 
 
 To return to the championship. Maxwell 
 was naturally a very strong favourite. After
 
 102 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 these somewhat untoward events, everything 
 depended upon whether his nerve would stand 
 the strain. Personally I think it broke a little, 
 as against James Robb he did not play quite 
 the same consistent game that he had done 
 previously, and, moreover, did not appear so con- 
 fident in himself. But Robb was playing a 
 very fine game at that meeting. 
 
 In the meanwhile there was a young player 
 named Allan unostentatiously working his way 
 through ; he was not knocking out Taits, Balls, 
 or Laidlays, but what he had to do he was 
 doing well. He had faithful adherents, who 
 predicted his ultimate success ; and one golfer, 
 Mr. David Scott Duncan, the editor of the 
 Golfing Annual, confidently told me before the 
 event began that Allan would just about 
 win. 
 
 At the time I didn't pay much attention to the 
 prophecy, but it was brought home to me after- 
 wards. When watching Allan play, one found it 
 almost impossible to believe that he could work 
 his way through such a good field, even granting
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 103 
 
 that so many good men had been removed from 
 his pathway, as his style was neither orthodox nor 
 elegant, and he seemed to lack the true golfer's 
 methods and finish. Still he got there, and 
 in getting there never exhibited any of those 
 numerous signs which tend to show that a 
 player is either anxious or nervous. He might 
 have been playing an ordinary game for the 
 humble half-crown. In the penultimate round 
 he had to meet Leslie Balfour-Melville, who 
 by this time was becoming a decided favourite, 
 and many a man was heard to say, " Old 
 Leslie is going to win again you'll see." But 
 old Leslie could not get away from the young 
 student, and at the fourteenth hole he was one 
 down. 
 
 I shall never forget the tee shots to that 
 hole. It was a distinctly difficult tee shot, 
 as it is always narrow, and on this occasion 
 there was a difficult head - wind to contend 
 against. Allan had the honour, and hooked 
 his ball into the bunker on the left-hand side 
 of the course. Now was his opponent's oppor-
 
 104 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 tunity, and by the time he took it was evident 
 that he did not mean to leave anything to 
 chance. He tried several tees before deciding 
 on a suitable one ; and then, through an in- 
 terruption on the part of a spectator, stopped 
 in the middle of his address to the ball and 
 recommenced once again. Finally he hit it, 
 and oh, what a shot hard on the top the 
 ball gently rolling on until it finished in some 
 loose sand in very close proximity to some 
 sleepers. This fatal error literally lost him the 
 match. 
 
 The other semi-final between Robb and John 
 Low supplied an excellent example of the 
 latter's match-playing abilities. Robb was dormie 
 three, but Johnnie Low halved the match. He 
 lost it ultimately on the twenty-first green, but 
 Robb was lucky, as he badly hooked every one 
 of his three tee shots, and on any course but 
 Muirfield would probably have been punished by 
 the loss of the hole and the match. His first 
 tee shot struck the wall hard and bounded 
 back into the course ; his second many con-
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 105 
 
 sidered had gone over the wall, but luck was 
 with him once again, and it was found on the 
 right side. Again, at the third attempt, his 
 ball finished perilously near the wall, but he ob- 
 tained a sufficiently good lie to take a wooden 
 club, and he put his second on the green and 
 won the hole. Any one of those tee shots 
 should have lost him the match. 
 
 The final round was far from a brilliant affair, 
 and was unfortunately marred by an incident 
 which is often discussed to this day. It was the 
 wall incident at the eleventh hole in the second 
 round, and to put the case succinctly it may be 
 said that Allan hooked his second shot hard 
 against the wall, from which it rebounded, and 
 the ball could not be found ; eventually it was 
 found in the pocket of Robb's caddie, who either 
 wilfully or in a fit of mental aberration had 
 picked it up. James Robb, his employer, had 
 nothing to do with the incident, but had to pay 
 the penalty the loss of the hole and this may 
 have made a big difference in the game. It 
 was distinctly hard lines on Robb, as it left
 
 106 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 his opponent three up, with only six holes to 
 play, and moreover probably had a demoralising 
 effect on Robb's game for the remaining holes. 
 
 Poor Jack Allan died early in the following 
 year, and the golfing world were never granted 
 an opportunity of forming a decided opinion as 
 to whether his success was as much due to 
 fortune as many critics averred that it was. 
 That he was a wonderful putter there can be 
 no doubt whatever, and moreover he appeared a 
 wonderful judge of distance ; his game certainly 
 lacked variety, and in consequence was not so 
 attractive as that of many well-known players, 
 but his friends believe in him to this day, and 
 always put him on the exalted pedestal which 
 by right belongs to a great golfer. 
 
 1897 was the first year in which an Open 
 Championship was played at Hoylake, and the 
 local element looked forward very confidently to 
 one or other of the Royal Liverpool men uphold- 
 ing the prestige of Hoylake golf. Perhaps there 
 was a little justification for the belief, as on the 
 two previous occasions on which the amateur
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 107 
 
 event had been held on the Cheshire green, 
 Johnnie Ball had wiped out all opposition, and 
 although I had personally failed on these two 
 occasions, there was a deep-rooted conviction, 
 right or wrong, that I was about half a stroke 
 a hole a better player in score-playing than in 
 match-playing, and the majority put away from 
 their mind my many failings in the field of 
 personal antagonism. Time after time people 
 came to me and remarked, " Johnnie and you 
 ought to have a great chance this year." Per- 
 sonally I thought there was a slight chance of 
 one or other of the twain making a good fight, 
 but I had seen a good deal of professional golf, 
 and the more I saw of it the more did I respect 
 its many qualities. Local knowledge may be a 
 distinct asset, but I came to the conclusion that 
 we wanted all that and a little more to get in 
 front of Taylor, Herd, Vardon, Braid, and com- 
 pany. The lesson taught in 1894, 1895, and 
 1896 had not been lost upon me, and it was 
 evident that the professional was gradually leav- 
 ing the amateur behind, and the latter would
 
 108 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 have to hurry up if he wished to get his nose 
 in front again. 
 
 Round number one ended in nothing very 
 sensational ; 78, I believe, was the best round, 
 and there were numerous players within a few 
 strokes of this total. For my own part, I 
 finished in 80, and might have done better 
 but for having to play behind the crowd which 
 followed Johnnie Ball and Laidlay, who were 
 immediately in front of me. Time after time 
 we had to wait until they cleared away from the 
 greens, and going to the sixteenth hole we had 
 to wait fully ten minutes, as the crowd remained 
 right in the line of play until the said couple 
 had played their second shots to the seventeenth. 
 From their own point of view the spectators 
 were probably wise, as by moving a few yards 
 they could not only see the sixteenth hole played 
 out, but moreover see the tee shots and second 
 shots played to the seventeenth hole ; but it was 
 very exasperating to those behind, and I know 
 I was very irritable about it. In round number 
 two I decided to keep well behind them, and
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 109 
 
 did so with happy results, as with one hole to 
 play I had a four for 75. A four to this hole 
 I did not expect, as it was played dead against 
 the wind, and it was quite impossible to get 
 home in two. A five would have quite satisfied 
 me. When I had played my approach my ball 
 lay about four yards from the hole. I was stand- 
 ing by the ball whilst my partner was playing a 
 long approach putt, and Mr. Ryder Richardson, 
 who was holding the pin, remarked, " Did you hear 
 what Braid has done ? " I said, " No ; " he replied, 
 " Seventy-four." This took my breath away, but at 
 the same time probably did me good, as I went 
 boldly for the hole and holed the putt, and they 
 wanted holing on that green, as many found out. 
 In the end that putt meant much. 
 
 At the end of the day's play Braid was leading 
 with a total of 154, while I was second with a 
 total of 155, with Freddie Tait, Johnnie Ball, 
 Pulford, and Herd close behind. Round number 
 three is in my opinion always a most crucial one 
 in a championship, particularly to a man who is 
 occupying a position which gives him a chance
 
 110 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 of success. It is probably the most testing 
 round of the whole four. When I won the 
 championship at Muirfield it was my third 
 round of 72 which literally won me that 
 championship, for it lifted me up about a dozen 
 places in the list. In my third round at 
 Hoylake I did my best to throw the champion- 
 ship into the gutter, as whilst I was making no 
 serious mistakes, I played the most weak-kneed 
 golf. I cannot remember touching a single 
 hazard, and still I took no less than 84 ; it was 
 simply that I would not hit the ball up to the 
 hole, with the result that at literally every other 
 hole I dropped a stroke. My partner, Peter 
 Paxton, did his best to comfort me, but his 
 sympathy was of no avail, and I went to lunch 
 a very sick and peevish man, the only grain 
 of comfort I could derive being the fact that 
 Braid had also failed and taken 82. The others 
 of course had crept up, and I found that I was 
 relegated from second to fifth position. I can- 
 not say that this affected my lunch, as on top 
 of many good things I finished up with some
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 111 
 
 trifle, simply on the recommendation of an 
 individual not unassociated with the inner man- 
 agement of the Royal Liverpool Club, who con- 
 fidently asserted that it was the finest thing 
 in the world on which to do a 75 as events 
 turned out, one of the truest things he has said 
 in this world. 
 
 When I arrived on the tee my old friend 
 Paxton greeted me with the remark, " Now, 
 Mr. Hilton, a 75 this afternoon, nothing more." 
 The number 75 seemed to be in the air. The 
 start was very auspicious, as a putt of fifteen to 
 twenty yards found the bottom, and a three 
 was placed on the card ; a four came at the 
 second, and then there came a shot which might 
 have ended in serious disaster. In the three 
 previous rounds the wind had been nearly dead 
 behind the players, and it had been necessary 
 to play very carefully to remain short of the 
 bunker. I had noticed, however, that the wind 
 had been gradually changing, and instead of 
 being behind, was inclined to be across. First 
 I addressed the ball with my spoon, and then
 
 112 MY GOLFING KEMINISCENCES 
 
 changed my mind and took a longer club to 
 get as near the bunker as possible. Just as 
 I was addressing the ball my caddie, who was 
 becoming a little excited, remarked, " Take care ; 
 you will get in with that." I simply remarked, 
 " Will you shut up ] " not very courteous cer- 
 tainly, but I did know the Hoylake links. 
 The result of the shot was disastrous, as I cut 
 across it, and it pitched right into a little bunker 
 beside the " Field " green. I saw the sand 
 fly up. When I arrived on the scene I found 
 fortune on my side, as the ball had pitched in 
 the bunker, and in so doing had thrown up a 
 little mound of sand on which the ball was 
 perched, the only difficulty being that there 
 was a bank in front of me. I decided, how- 
 ever, to go for it, and taking my spoon 
 I played for a hook, brought the shot off 
 and holed out in five. A very useful two fol- 
 lowed at the next hole, and a four was quite 
 satisfactory at the fifth hole. A total of 18 
 for the first five holes was more than satis- 
 factory, and I had no ambition to play them
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 113 
 
 over again. When, however, one starts in this 
 sensational fashion, and then has a little time 
 to deliberate upon the question of possibilities, 
 as one invariably has in a big field in the 
 Open Championship, thoughts and fancies pass 
 through the mind, and these thoughts and 
 fancies are apt to upset the equilibrium of the 
 most staid of players. Whether this happened 
 in my case or not I cannot say, but there is 
 one thing certain, and that is that for a short 
 spell I tried my best to discount this great 
 start, and began to play the fool on the green 
 at the very next hole. As my second shot left 
 me but a few yards from the pin, I promptly 
 putted short, and followed this up by missing 
 a very short one. The seventh or " Dowie " 
 hole is always a trying one, and it has always 
 been a hole which I have had reason to remem- 
 ber as an enemy, nor on this occasion did it prove 
 any exception to the rule. In the three previous 
 rounds I had played it a little too safely, and 
 on each occasion had taken four to it. On 
 
 the present occasion I determined to play boldly 
 
 IT
 
 114 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 for the green, with the result that I held the 
 ball too much into the wind and it just pitched 
 out of bounds. Number two was more suc- 
 cessful, as it finished close to the hole ; but 
 once again three putts were required, and I 
 began to realise that I was gradually dissipat- 
 ing a glorious chance. A five to the eighth 
 was quite satisfactory, but another stroke went 
 astray at the ninth, as once again three strokes 
 were required on the green ; I found myself there- 
 fore with a total of 38 for the outward journey, 
 and at one time I had had dreams and visions of 
 36 or something under that figure. And, what 
 was worse, the harder part of the journey had 
 to be overcome, for a great deal of this journey 
 had to be played against a head-wind. 
 
 Whilst standing on the tee to the tenth, 
 I heard that Freddie Tait was also out in 
 38, which was not at all comforting news, 
 as it meant that he still held a lead of one 
 stroke. I always consider that the first four 
 holes home on the Hoylake course are exceed- 
 ingly crucial ones in a medal round. They
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 115 
 
 comprise that portion of the course where it 
 is either possible for a man to pull himself 
 together and transform an average beginning 
 into quite a respectable score, or back up a 
 good outward journey in such a fashion that 
 except for extreme disaster in the last five holes, 
 a good total is ensured. Now, fortunately for 
 me, I got those holes in schedule numbers, viz., 
 four, three, four, three. In doing so I had one 
 piece of good fortune, in that at the eleventh, 
 or "Alps" hole, I laid a short pitch from the 
 top of the hill literally stone dead. This little 
 help brought my score down to an average of 
 fours. The "Field" hole was a trying one that 
 day, and I was very thankful to leave it in the 
 rear with an orthodox five. Then came a little 
 bit of fortune which was extremely useful, as 
 at the " Lake " hole I ran down a very useful 
 putt for a four, and I knew well that at this stage 
 every stroke must make a difference. This gave 
 me heart of grace, and I played the " Dun " 
 hole confidently, and this notwithstanding that 
 I had to wait a very long time before I could
 
 116 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 play my second shot ; but I had my nerves 
 well in control, and was determined not to be 
 bustled, and I did not strike until the course 
 in front was absolutely clear of spectators. 
 Down in five I was left with a four and a five 
 for 75 ; but the five came first, as I was 
 terribly short both with my approach and my 
 approach putt to the seventeenth, and missed 
 my fourth. 
 
 Now in the three previous rounds it was 
 literally an impossibility for me to reach the 
 last green in two, but I had noticed during 
 the round that the wind had been gradually 
 whipping round from the east to the north, and 
 in place of being almost dead ahead at this 
 - hole, it was now almost directly across the line 
 of the hole ; in consequence I decided to have 
 a go at my tee shot in the hope that I might 
 get over in two. I had a go, and got fairly 
 hold of the ball, but when I came up to it I 
 found that, notwithstanding that I had really 
 hit the shot, there were still grave doubts as to 
 whether I could get home. My caddie handed
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 117 
 
 me a club with which to play short, but I had 
 a good look at it, and decided to have a dash 
 at it. I had plenty of time in which to weigh 
 up the pros and cons of the situation, for the 
 couple in front seemed to be playing some kind 
 of game of their own on the green ; they may, 
 in fact, have been not at all slow, but to me 
 it seemed an interminable time. I badly wanted 
 to get this shot over, as the more I looked at 
 it the less I liked it. At last came the welcome 
 signal, and without wasting any time over pre- 
 liminaries I let go. The ball went as true as steel 
 off the club, but unfortunately I had the slightest 
 bit of pull on the stroke, and I knew well 
 that the farther you go to the left at this hole 
 the longer is the carry. 
 
 Directly they saw the ball sail away from the 
 club, the spectators began to cheer and clap ; 
 they promptly took it for granted that it must 
 clear the bunker, but I knew that it was a 
 case of touch and go. I had played that 
 hole far too often, and in my anxiety I mentally 
 stigmatised them as fools for their somewhat
 
 118 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 premature applause. I should not have been 
 at all surprised had the ball plumped straight 
 into the bunker, but it got over, by how much 
 I cannot say ; I have an idea that it must 
 have been more a question of feet than yards, 
 as by the way it jumped it must have landed 
 on the bank just over the hazard ; but " all's well 
 that ends well," and it was over and close to 
 the hole. Putt number one was not at all a 
 bold one. One spectator called it a drunken 
 effort, and he was not far wrong. Putt number 
 two dobbled about, and eventually made its 
 entry into the hole at the back door, but it 
 got there, and that was everything. I can see 
 that ball now hesitating on the lip of the hole 
 .like a helpless derelict. 
 
 In the meanwhile I had heard that Freddie 
 Tait had come to grief on the way home, in 
 fact I was aware of that a hole or two from 
 home. How many people took the trouble to 
 tell me of it I do not know, but they were cer- 
 tainly a goodly number, as during the intervals 
 of waiting they came trooping up one after
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 119 
 
 another, no doubt with the very best of inten- 
 tions, though I was by degrees becoming a little 
 tired of the same information. My chief enemy 
 I knew to be James Braid, and almost imme- 
 diately after I had finished it was somewhat 
 pleasing to hear that he had commenced his 
 round very indifferently, and that it was more 
 than probable that he would require more than 
 40 for the outward journey ; as he required 
 a total of 77 for the round to supplant my 
 aggregate score, and a total of 78 to tie, I 
 felt fairly confident as to the result, particu- 
 larly as the homeward half had to be played 
 against the wind. After a short rest I thought 
 I should like to go out and see mine enemy 
 finish. I wandered forth and met him coming 
 to the twelfth hole. I saw him play his 
 second shot to that hole, and a fine straight 
 shot it was, dead on the pin, but a little strong. 
 On it trickled until it disappeared over the 
 ridge which guards the pond beyond the hole ; 
 personally I thought it had found a wateiy 
 grave, but on investigation I found that it had
 
 120 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 not reached the water. Still, the fact did not 
 trouble me much. I was buoyed up by the 
 rumour of the indifferent commencement of his 
 round. This rumour proved to be quite cor- 
 rect; his start for that fourth round was very 
 inauspicious, but the probability that he would 
 require more than 40 for the outward journey 
 did not materialise, for he holed those nine 
 holes in 40, and what was worse, began the 
 homeward half with a four and a three. This 
 information came to me from a spectator who 
 apparently did not realise my identity, as in 
 reply to my query as to how Braid was doing, 
 he remarked, " He's making a great fight of it 
 against Hilton ; he's out in 40, and has started 
 home with a four and a three." I felt inclined to 
 say, "Thank you for very unpleasant news." My 
 equanimity of spirit promptly faded away. I began 
 to anxiously reckon what he had to do to either 
 win or tie, and the more I reckoned the less I 
 liked the situation; but I thought, "At any rate 
 I will see the show out like a brave man, and 
 watch him finish." I quickly found out, however,
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 121 
 
 that my mental stamina was not quite equal to 
 the strain, and after seeing him play two holes 
 I had had quite enough of it, and I thought to 
 myself, " Young man, this is no place for you," 
 and then there was one spectator the less in that 
 crowd. It really was trying to see James Braid 
 trying to hole putts and miss them by a hair's- 
 breadth. Both at the twelfth hole I have men- 
 tioned, and again at the "Rushes," it was touch 
 and go whether the ball went in or not. As it 
 happened the ball didn't, the spectators murmured 
 "Hard lines," and I murmured "Thank heaven," 
 and wandered away to the clubhouse and tried to 
 take an intelligent interest in the newspapers. 
 I was sitting there in complete solitude until 
 joined by a near relative, who at first said 
 nothing, but sat down a short distance away ; 
 eventually he sympathetically remarked, " You 
 must not be disappointed if you do not win ; that 
 man Braid is a very fine player." I naturally 
 came to the conclusion that Braid must have 
 done something out of the common at the " Field " 
 hole, and events proved that my surmise was
 
 122 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 correct, as he had holed it in four against the 
 wind, and that made a big difference. I didn't 
 make any inquiries as to details, however, but to 
 relieve my feelings went into the billiard-room 
 and tried to play a game with a kindly friend, 
 who sacrificed himself on my behalf. I can- 
 not think that I took much interest in that 
 game, for I was soon at the club window 
 watching the enemy playing the sixteenth hole, 
 and I cannot say I was sorry to see him take 
 six for the hole. Looking from the window 
 I could not make much of the proceedings to 
 the seventeenth, but the hole took so long to 
 play that I came to the conclusion that the total 
 was more likely to be five than four, and I 
 summoned up enough pluck to wander out again 
 to see the finish, and the first thing I heard was 
 a shout, " He's a three to tie." I felt quite a brave 
 man again, as I knew that last hole at Hoylake. 
 It is always a good four, and an exceptional three, 
 and, moreover, on this occasion there were one 
 or two reasons which made it all the more difficult. 
 Firstly, the wind was if anything against the
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 123 
 
 player; not that this would stop Braid from 
 getting home in two, but it necessitated a long 
 approach in place of a short one. Again, the 
 hole was placed in a most difficult position. Mr. 
 Ryder Richardson told me that he had never 
 seen such terrible putting in his life as he had 
 at this hole. Nearly every one had been skating 
 about round the hole like small children, and 
 he had hardly seen a decent putt holed during 
 the whole of the two days' play. 
 
 In my own mind I could not see Braid or 
 any one else doing that hole in three, and I 
 felt that the championship was in my pocket. 
 I had an anxious moment or two, however. To 
 begin with, his drive was one of the best, and 
 it was very evident that he could easily get 
 home in two^ First he took out a wooden 
 club, then hesitated and walked some distance 
 forward, and eventually decided to take an 
 iron one. In James Braid's long career he 
 has probably seldom played a finer stroke than 
 that second of his to this last hole in 1897 ; 
 it was never oif the pin. Everything depended
 
 124 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 upon the roll of the ball. On it came, and 
 nobody could accurately tell where it would 
 stop. Fortunately for me the green was keen, 
 and it kept trickling along, passed within 
 a foot or so of the hole, and did not stop 
 until it had rolled some six or eight yards 
 past. As befitted the occasion, he took any 
 amount of pains over that putt; but, personally, 
 I felt very confident as to the result. I knew 
 that hole and its position, and, moreover, the 
 putt was a difficult one. He made an excel- 
 lent bid, but the ball skidded past on the left- 
 hand side, and I once again said, " Thank 
 heaven." From a mere question of distance 
 that putt was a very holeable one, but I had 
 a good look at it, and I don't think he would 
 have holed it once in ten minutes, as there 
 was a swing away from the hole on both sides ; 
 besides that it was one of those holes cut 
 in such a manner, or perhaps placed in such 
 a position, that few putts found the bottom 
 thereof, unless they hit the back of the hole 
 fair and square. As I have said before, my
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 125 
 
 personal knowledge of that particular hole 
 greatly added to my confidence when Jimmie 
 Braid attempted to hole that fateful third 
 stroke. 
 
 I remember, when afterwards discussing the 
 championship, a friend remarked to me, " You 
 must have been in a blue funk when Braid 
 was playing that putt of his to tie." I assured 
 him that such was far from the case, as I felt 
 in a much more composed state than I had 
 done for some considerable time previously. He 
 would not believe me, however, and apparently 
 considered that my suggestion that at the 
 moment I was not suffering from the nervous- 
 ness of fear and anxiety arose more from the 
 promptings of the after thoughts, than those 
 of truth. Nevertheless it was the truth, and 
 nothing but the truth ; and although a certain 
 qualm of nervousness came over me when I 
 realised that he had hit the ball absolutely 
 truly a thing which in those days Braid was 
 not very wont to do still this qualm was very 
 short-lived, for standing behind him, I quickly
 
 126 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 realised that the ball was bearing away to the 
 left-hand side of the hole, and little short of 
 a miracle would enable it to reach its proposed 
 destination. Possibly to the spectators stand- 
 ing across the line of the putt it may have 
 seemed a very near thing indeed, and from a 
 spectator's point of view so it was, as the ball 
 was struck quite correctly ; it had just suffi- 
 cient strength to carry it past the hole, and 
 when it had travelled half-way it was extremely 
 doubtful where it would finish. But to any 
 observant person who was standing behind the 
 striker, it was evident that once the ball began 
 to near the hole it must pass on the left-hand 
 side, although there can be but little doubt that 
 it was a very fine effort to hole an extremely 
 difficult putt. 
 
 Of all my championship successes, I have 
 always looked back upon this particular one 
 at Hoylake with the greatest degree of satis- 
 faction. It is true that I had previously won 
 a championship, but that was five years pre- 
 viously, and it was won under somewhat pecu-
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 127 
 
 liar conditions. In the first place, the course 
 at Muirfield, for many reasons, could not be 
 considered a truly severe test of the game, as 
 in addition to its extreme shortness there was 
 far too much of the drive and pitch variety of 
 hole in evidence, and in those days pitching 
 was certainly the most deadly part of my game. 
 Again, on the concluding day I had an absolute 
 day out. It would not be perhaps correct to 
 say that everything came oif such a state of 
 affairs can hardly be expected in two rounds 
 of eighteen holes ; but it is true that very 
 little went wrong, and if I did make a slight 
 mistake, it seldom cost me anything. Now 
 between this year of 1892 and the champion- 
 ship of 1897 I had done very little, at least 
 in the big events, and this tended to confirm 
 those who considered that this win at Muir- 
 field was very much of the nature of a fluke. 
 In consequence it is easy to understand that an 
 endorsement of the previous win was particularly 
 gratifying to me, even though in this second 
 success I had the advantage of playing over a
 
 128 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 course with which I was well acquainted. No 
 doubt that did mean just a little at Hoylake 
 in 1897, as the green was hard and burnt, 
 and in consequence was as keen as a skating- 
 rink.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 IT may be imagination on my part, but I 
 have always considered that never during my 
 whole career have I played so consistently well 
 as in the earlier months of the year 1898, and 
 I say this notwithstanding the success which 
 fell to my share in 1897. Well as I played in 
 that year, I always look back upon the spring of 
 the following season as the high-water mark in 
 my golfing career ; but there was the same old 
 story to tell, another disastrous failure, in the 
 Amateur Championship, and absolutely the worst 
 failure I had ever been guilty of. Even now 
 when I think it over I cannot find any excuse 
 for that humiliating exhibition in the fourth 
 round at Hoylake. It was sad and pitiful, but 
 more of this anon. 
 
 In Easter week that year the Royal Liverpool 
 
 129
 
 130 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 Club took a team down to Westward Ho to 
 play a return match with the Royal North Devon 
 Club. The team was not the very strongest 
 that the Hoylake club could turn out, but it 
 was quite a good team, and I rather think that 
 few of that combination anticipated defeat. 
 Personally it never entered my head that we 
 should be beaten ; at least it never entered my 
 head until I had an opportunity of gauging the 
 value of the Southerners, and then it seemed to 
 me that whilst they could not claim the services 
 of any very noted men, there still was a unifor- 
 mity in the form of the whole team which 
 spelt danger for our tail end. The North Devon 
 team was one of those combinations which you 
 could almost turn upside down without making 
 much material difference to the side. The first 
 few men were no doubt better than the last 
 three, but not to any appreciable extent, whilst 
 on the other hand there must have been about 
 half a stroke difference in the form of the best 
 and the worst of our team. As events turned 
 out, my premonition of disaster proved only
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 131 
 
 too correct, as our tail let us down badly, and 
 we were unexpectedly beaten. Still, from a 
 personal point of view I had no reason to look 
 back upon the match with any feelings of dis- 
 satisfaction, as I subscribed thirteen holes to the 
 Royal Liverpool total, and in the subsequent 
 play during the meeting won the "Kashmir" 
 Cup by a margin of seven strokes, and also the 
 Gold Medal with a score of 79, accomplished in 
 half a gale of wind. This was certainly one of 
 the best individual rounds I have ever played in 
 my life, as is proved by the fact that the next 
 scratch score to mine was that of John Ball, 
 jun., 87 ; and moreover, notwithstanding a penalty 
 of nine strokes, I finished first in the handicap 
 list. Sad to say, I had refused to enter for the 
 sweepstake, and as I was not eligible for the prize, 
 all that remained was honour and glory. Follow- 
 ing on this there was an open meeting at St. 
 Anne's, and I won the scratch prize by no less 
 than twelve strokes. The recapitulation of these 
 events may sound very egotistical, but I record 
 them in order to show that there was no
 
 132 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 explanation for my exhibition in the champion- 
 ship except utter inability to surmount a diffi- 
 cult situation. 
 
 When the draw came out I quickly realised 
 that I was in close proximity to my old enemy, 
 Lieutenant F. G. Tait, and by a very simple 
 process of calculation it was easy to see that 
 in case we both survived we should once 
 again meet in the fourth round on the after- 
 noon of the second day. I reached that fourth 
 round fairly easily, and in doing so quite kept 
 up the form I had been showing. On the 
 other hand, Master Freddie had a desperately 
 near aifair with Charles Hutch ings. He even- 
 tually won, and I am not going to say that he 
 did not deserve to win, as his enemy holed one 
 or two right across the green, and how his 
 ball kept out of the hole on the last green is 
 a mystery ; it was another one from a very long 
 way off a species of distance from which 
 you would feel satisfied if you kept the ball 
 dead, but twelve inches from the hole it looked 
 down for a certainty, only to slip round the
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 133 
 
 edge of the hole. True it is that Freddie Tait 
 would have had a putt to halve the match, but 
 it was a putt of many yards. Playing the nine- 
 teenth hole, he played one of the finest shots 
 I have ever seen him play, as from a pulled 
 tee shot he put his second from a distance of 
 over 200 yards within a few yards of the hole, 
 and his opponent obligingly missing his ap- 
 proach, Freddie qualified for this fateful fourth 
 round. 
 
 Our meeting was generally accorded the credit 
 of being the match of the week, a species of 
 battle royal. People trooped out from Liver- 
 pool in hordes to witness it, and I shouldn't 
 like to try to count how many people exhorted 
 me to be sure and buck up. All I know is 
 that by degrees I became a little tired of their 
 well-meant sympathy, not to say a little irritable, 
 particularly when a man came up a few minutes 
 before the start and, taking me aside, requested 
 me to put some money on for him. He seemed 
 a little hurt when I told him he must have 
 mistaken me for a commission agent. I had
 
 134 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 quite enough to think about without running 
 round chasing prospective gamblers. 
 
 Well, the crowd was there all right, and what 
 came they out for to see ? In truth one of the 
 biggest walk-overs ever seen on a golf course. 
 The trouble commenced at the second hole. I 
 actually had a putt for that hole, but eventually 
 lost it. When waiting to play the tee shot to the 
 third hole a man I never expected to see on the 
 links at all came to me, gently smacked me on 
 the back, and remarked, " How are you getting 
 on 1 " This kindly attention, well meant no 
 doubt, did not serve to allay my irritability, and 
 I promptly missed that tee shot, and another 
 hole went astray. So the game proceeded ; 
 my opponent gradually increased his lead, and 
 increased it without an effort, until finally I was 
 six holes in arrear, with only five to play, and 
 in consequence was free to wend my sorrowful 
 way to the clubhouse. And sorrowful I did feel ; 
 it was akin to the sorrow of shame, and I really 
 felt as if I dare not. look anybody in the face. 
 Freddie Tait was very sympathetic, but I am
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 135 
 
 afraid I was past appreciating sympathy. I was 
 feeling far too much humiliated. For the rest of 
 that meeting I spent a good deal of time answer- 
 ing the oft-repeated query, " Whatever was the 
 matter with you, old fellow ? " and eventually 
 had recourse to the answer, " Please don't ask 
 me." 
 
 Freddie Tait eventually won that champion- 
 ship, but it was just about the luckiest win 
 in the whole of his career. I have already re- 
 counted his squeak against Charles Hutchings, 
 but he had two others equally as close, and if 
 John Graham, Jim., could have holed the most 
 infantile of putts, another name than that of 
 Tait would have been inscribed upon the cham- 
 pionship trophy for the year 1898 ; he missed 
 them, however, and the one he missed on the 
 last green was just about the shortest I have 
 ever seen missed in a championship. 
 
 Again, any one who saw Tait's match against 
 John Low in the penultimate round will hardly 
 forget it. With the probable exception of the 
 memorable final in the following year at Prest-
 
 136 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 wick, when John Ball, jun., won on the thirty- 
 seventh green, this match at Hoy lake was 
 the most exciting I have ever witnessed. Not 
 that the golf was good, far from it ; but those 
 matches in which there is a very grave doubt 
 as to what the players will do next are infinitely 
 more exciting to witness than the mechanical 
 kind of procedure which the leading profes- 
 sionals so often oblige us with. This day hap- 
 pened to be one of Freddie's off days from the 
 tee, and he didn't forget to supply the gallery 
 with some weird examples of where a tee shot 
 should not be placed. Towards the conclusion 
 of the round he was all over the place, but as 
 usual he managed to hang on to a man who 
 was playing decidedly the sounder golf of the 
 two. His greatest feat was at the sixteenth 
 hole, where he drove into the ditch guarding 
 the out-of-bounds enclosure. His second shot 
 only got him out of this hazard with some ten 
 or fifteen yards to spare, and then he proceeded 
 to place his third on the green, a mere carry 
 of about 200 yards. It was a great effort at
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 137 
 
 a very critical moment. Eventually the round 
 was halved, and the fun still continued in the 
 play off. The first hole was halved, but the 
 end seemed certain to come at the twentieth 
 hole, as Freddie half topped his approach, and 
 ran past the hole into the grip beyond. His 
 third was again an indifferent one, leaving him 
 some seven or eight yards away. In the mean- 
 while John Low placed his third dead, and this 
 putt of seven or eight yards had to be sunk or 
 all was over. Down it went, but I cannot help 
 thinking that that putt was a lucky one, as he 
 hardly took the trouble to look at it, a most 
 unusual thing for him ; he simply walked up 
 and hit it. Another nasty obstacle overcome. 
 
 There were more, however, in the offing, as 
 he pulled his next tee shot to square leg, and 
 out of bounds it went, so that he had to drop 
 another and lose one. John Low was eventually 
 on the green in three, and everything depended 
 upon Freddie's fourth, a full wooden club shot ; 
 it was well played, but always seemed to be 
 working away to the right of the hole. When
 
 138 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 it pitched, however, it got a most extraordinary 
 kick towards the pin, and finally finished up 
 but a few yards away, and down he ran his 
 putt once again. The finish came at the next 
 hole, where John Low failed in his putting 
 and his enemy did not. It really was a most 
 extraordinarily lucky win. In the final round 
 against Mure Fergusson his luck did not desert 
 him, as although he played sounder golf than on 
 the previous day, some of his recoveries, particu- 
 larly towards the end of the first round, were 
 sufficient to break a heart of stone. 
 
 The Open Championship that year was held 
 at Prestwick, a course which, in my own opinion, 
 should suit my style of play better than any 
 other of the four courses on which the cham- 
 pionship is played. Yet, notwithstanding this 
 opinion, it is a fact that I have won champion- 
 ships over St. Andrews, Hoylake, Sandwich, and 
 Muirfield, but never over the green of my 
 choice Prestwick. But I came very near to 
 winning one in 1898, and I always look back 
 upon the event as the one occasion on which
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 139 
 
 I threw away a championship through the 
 agency of one bad stroke. It was a bad stroke, 
 a very bad one, but even so it hardly deserved 
 the fate that was meted out to it. 
 
 Notwithstanding my egregious failure at Hoy- 
 lake in the previous month, there were not 
 lacking those who held the opinion that I 
 had a decided chance of repeating my success 
 of 1897, and one sporting journalist actually 
 tipped me outright to win. I cannot say that 
 the confidence in my own powers was suffi- 
 ciently great to lead me to endorse this opinion, 
 as I had not yet got over the terrible debdde at 
 Hoylake ; but I had a wooden club with which 
 I could literally place the ball where I liked, one 
 of those clubs which one meets with but seldom 
 in a lifetime, and on a course like Prestwick 
 this means much ; a good servant it was to 
 me that year, as in the whole four rounds of 
 the champion ship I never once found trouble 
 from the tee. 
 
 It would be difficult to say that year who 
 started favourite. Many pinned their faith to
 
 140 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 Harry Vardon, whilst in Scotland there was more 
 than a sincere hope that Willie Park would 
 stem the tide of English success ; there was 
 every reason for this hope, as he had been in 
 strict training for some time, and recently had 
 beaten Willie Fernie in a home-and-home match 
 by a majority which seemed absolutely silly 
 against a man of Fernie's class. Park meant 
 business that year, there was no doubt about it, 
 and the business very nearly came off. 
 
 As it happened, I was one of the early starters 
 on the first day, and I have a distinct recollec- 
 tion of beginning the round in a very nervous 
 fashion, but this soon wore off, and I finished 
 in 76. Park, who was a late starter, also 
 -commenced in a very scratchy way, and on his 
 play might have taken a considerable number 
 for the first three holes, but his putting came 
 to the rescue, so that he actually holed out 
 these three holes in a total of twelve. I did not 
 see the rest of the round, but I was told that 
 from that point he played good golf. He also 
 finished in 76 ; and at the end of the round
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 141 
 
 we were leading the field Vardon's score, it 
 may be mentioned, being 79. Round number 
 two I commenced full of confidence, and by 
 the time I had holed out the fourth hole I 
 had a total two strokes better than that of my 
 morning round ; then came the disaster spoken 
 of before. The " Himalayas," particularly with 
 the aid of a slight wind, is not a very terrifying 
 hole, in fact it is a very simple one to play. 
 In the morning round I had taken an iron club, 
 and was a few yards short of the green. In the 
 afternoon round I came to the conclusion that 
 a little more force was required, so I took out 
 a driving mashie, which I had not touched for 
 over six months ; it was quite a good club, but 
 just a little too long in the handle for me. The 
 result was that I hit the ground, and pulled the 
 ball round into the sand-hill on the left. I 
 carefully watched the particular bunch of bent 
 grass that it struck, and to this day I wish 
 that I had not. Notwithstanding that I knew 
 the exact locality of the ball, it took some time 
 to find it, and had I not marked it carefully
 
 142 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 down I should almost to a certainty have lost 
 it ; that would have been very much to my 
 advantage, as I could have come back to the tee 
 and played three, with the possibility of obtain- 
 ing a five a figure which, as events turned out, 
 would have been sufficient to give me the cham- 
 pionship. Unhappily I found that ball, and a 
 pretty place it was in ; for a moment I hesitated 
 whether I should take it out and tee it, losing 
 two strokes, but there was literally no sound 
 place on which to tee it, as the surroundings 
 were one mass of sand. Eventually I decided 
 to play it. Effort number one ended in the 
 ball being driven farther into the bent ; effort 
 number two, played from a different position, 
 sent the ball high into the air, and after some 
 waiting it condescended to come down and bury 
 itself in the sand, just the top being visible ; 
 effort number three loosened it from its sandy 
 prison, and effort number four sent it on its way 
 to the green, where, to end the tale of disaster, 
 it eventually finished in a deep divot mark half 
 way down the hill; a run up and two putts
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 143 
 
 found the bottom of the hole, and the next 
 words uttered came from the marker, " I think 
 that is eight ; " he knew it was eight, and so 
 did I, but I appreciated his kindly suggestion 
 that he only thought it was eight. 
 
 Whilst all this travail was proceeding I never 
 once lost control of my feelings, but once it was 
 over I relieved the tension by throwing my putter 
 at the teeing-box ; fortunately it pitched short and 
 bounded over the object of my wrath. Suddenly 
 I thought, " What a fool you are ; if you had hit 
 that teeing-box and smashed the club where 
 would you have been, as you haven't got another 
 putter with you ? " and I then solemnly worked 
 out the possibilities of the round, and came to 
 the conclusion that I might yet finish in 80. I 
 did not manage 80 but was very near it, as my 
 total was 81. To make matters worse, Park 
 did a 75 and so did Vardon, so I found myself 
 a good many strokes in arrear when round 
 number three came to be played. 
 
 On the second day I happened to be a com- 
 paratively late starter. Park and Vardon, who
 
 144 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 were some couples in front of me, both did well. 
 If my memory serves me aright the former finished 
 in 78 and Vardon in 77. My own score was the 
 same as that of Vardon, viz., 77, but I did throw 
 away strokes on the putting greens. My marker, a 
 well-known Prestwick golfer, told me afterwards 
 that he could have kicked me, and if he had 
 done it I think I might have forgiven him. 
 
 With round number four to play it appeared as if 
 the championship rested between Park and Vardon, 
 and in the end such was the case. Vardon, who 
 was the first to finish, handed in a 76, making a 
 full total of 307. Park had a comparatively short 
 putt to tie, and missed it. It is said that at the 
 time he had an idea that the putt he missed 
 was to beat Vardon and not to tie with him, 
 but of this I know nothing; all I know is that 
 I was proceeding on my way in this said fourth 
 round in a very satisfactory manner. I had no 
 idea what Park and Vardon were doing, it was 
 sufficient for me to know that it was necessary 
 to go all the way, and I had no reason to 
 grumble at an outward total of 35. Even so
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 145 
 
 a little luck at the eighth and ninth holes 
 might have saved me two strokes, as on each 
 occasion the ball just ran round the hole ; but 
 in each case the shot was played from a very 
 long distance away, and it would have been 
 extraordinarily good luck had either of these 
 shots gone down. Homeward I began with a 
 five and a four, and a very useful four at the 
 twelfth the hole over the wall. Then it was 
 that I first heard how the land lay. A spectator 
 asked me how I was getting on. I replied that 
 I was an average of fours, and after a rapid 
 mathematical calculation he remarked, " You are 
 level with Park and Vardon at this point." This 
 was encouraging news, although I have always 
 had my doubts whether it was very beneficial 
 to my chance, as at the thirteenth I made a 
 slip. It happened thus. My tee shot was a long 
 one, but slightly pulled. I am told by those who 
 had an opportunity of witnessing its course that 
 I had more than an average degree of luck in 
 missing the pot bunker on the left, as the ball 
 ran over the corner of the hazard. Still, " all's
 
 146 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 well that ends well," and I was in easy reach 
 of the green. The lie was a good one, but the 
 stance was not of the best, as I had perforce to 
 stand very much below the ball. In consequence, 
 I took my spoon to slice it into the wind. Just 
 as I was addressing the ball my caddie, who had 
 been asked little and had talked less, suddenly 
 became excited and remarked, " You will go too 
 far with that club." I said nothing but walked 
 away, and addressed the ball once again ; but the 
 result was not happy, as I spared the shot too 
 much and was very short, and took five to 
 hole out. 
 
 The fourteenth hole was an easy one that 
 day, and I had no difficulty in getting a four. 
 -In the meanwhile I had no idea what my two 
 enemies were doing ; but I realised that every 
 stroke must tell, and, moreover, that a great 
 deal depended upon the fifteenth and sixteenth 
 holes, which had to be played against the wind. 
 My tee shot to the fifteenth was too much to 
 the right, and finished under the hill. Still I 
 could easily get home, but I could not see the
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 147 
 
 line of the hole, and eventually made a mistake 
 by playing too much to the right, and finished 
 below the green. Not getting my next dead, I 
 had to be content with a five. I knew by this 
 time that I had to do something desperate to 
 the sixteenth. I played my tee shot well to 
 the right, so as to give me as easy an ap- 
 proach as possible. I shall always remember 
 that approach, as I thought I had played it 
 to perfection. Just over the corner of the 
 " Cardinal " bunker, it cleared the hazard all 
 right, but failed to surmount the hill beyond, 
 and rolled back into the pathway on loose 
 sand, and another five was recorded. Then I 
 heard that a three and a two were required 
 to tie with Vardon. This statement, as events 
 turned out, proved to be inaccurate, as a total 
 of six would have sufficed. But it can hardly 
 be said to have made the slightest difference, 
 as although I nearly holed out the seventeenth 
 in three, a miss is as good as a mile, and in 
 any case the last hole is always a difficult 
 three. As it happened I took four to this
 
 148 MY GOLFING KEMINISCENCES 
 
 hole, and finished one stroke behind Park and 
 two behind Vardon. 
 
 This championship is the one event in my 
 career which I have always grudged another 
 man winning. It was lost by one silly mis- 
 take a mistake absolutely the result of over- 
 confidence and whilst it taught me a lesson, 
 it was a lesson learnt at a very big cost. Had 
 I not marked that ball at the fifth hole I 
 should probably have lost it, and been able to 
 go back to the tee and play three. Even had 
 I decided to take the ball out and tee it, I 
 should probably have holed out in six, and 
 such a figure would have sufficed to tie with 
 Vardon, but the fact remains that I took eight 
 to that hole. And, in a way, I deserved to take 
 eight, for, in the first place, I had no right to 
 take a club about which I knew little ; and, in 
 the second, if there was any doubt I should cer- 
 tainly have taken my wooden spoon, as I knew 
 then, as I know now, that I am much safer 
 with a wooden club than with an iron one. 
 When I talked over the event with the veteran,
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 149 
 
 Mr. William Doleman, he was, to put the case 
 mildly, a little bit unsympathetic on the point, 
 as he remarked, " It serves you right ; you 
 don't deserve any sympathy. You have often 
 expressed the opinion that in case of doubt it 
 is always safer to take a wooden club, and you 
 go and take an iron one." It was an opinion 
 expressed by a golfer of great experience. I 
 said nothing, but valued it all the more.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE Amateur Championship of 1899 will al- 
 ways remain in my memory as one of the most 
 exciting I ever witnessed. To begin with, the 
 entry was just about as good as it could be, 
 for although the names of one or two men 
 with a slight chance of success were missing, 
 still this championship at Prestwick supplied the 
 most representative entry that has ever taken 
 part in the event. For my own part, I once 
 again found myself not so very far away from 
 Frederick Guthrie Tait, provided I survived the 
 initial round. There was a fair margin for a 
 little practice before I could meet him, as the 
 draw decided that we should not meet until 
 the fifth round. It so happened that it was 
 by the merest chance we ever met at all, as 
 I had a terribly narrow shave against John 
 
 150
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 151 
 
 Gairdner in the preceding heat. Indeed, I 
 should have had no cause to grumble had I 
 not survived, as I was twice in dire straits. 
 To begin with, he was dormie one, and that 
 last hole is a difficult hole to win from any 
 one. Fortunately he missed two approaches 
 running, and although I did succeed in plac- 
 ing my own approach stone dead, I do not 
 claim much credit for the feat, as a stroke 
 placed a few yards farther away would have 
 sufficed quite as well. I cannot say, moreover, 
 that I actually tried to put that shot very very 
 near the hole. I was quite satisfied to place it 
 within holing distance, for my antagonist was 
 still twenty yards from the hole and had already 
 played three. In the second place, I proceeded 
 to the tee to the nineteenth hole, and played 
 out for a pull, foolishly I think ; the pull did 
 not come off, with the result that the ball sailed 
 away into the railway. My opponent made no 
 mistake with his drive, as it was right down 
 the middle of the course. There was a rule 
 then at Prestwick that in case of driving into
 
 152 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 the railway a ball should be dropped at the 
 spot at which it crossed the dyke, under a 
 penalty of one stroke. Well, the question arose 
 as to the exact spot at which my ball had 
 crossed, and a well-known member of the 
 Prestwick Club settled the question for us. 
 Being across the line of the flight of the ball, 
 he could arrive at a fair conclusion, and had 
 no hesitation in giving his decision. I simply 
 mention this question as there were many argu- 
 ments afterwards as to the correctness of his 
 decision, some expressing the opinion that my 
 ball crossed the wall some ten to twenty yards 
 farther back than the spot at which he decided 
 I should play. But even with this problem- 
 atical advantage thrown in, I was still in a 
 dilemma, for while my opponent was within reach 
 of the hole I could not possibly carry the 
 bunker straight, and I had to decide whether 
 to play short, or try to carry the bunker on 
 the left-hand side. I eventually decided on the 
 latter alternative, and just scrambled over. My 
 opponent had still a difficult shot to play
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 153 
 
 a full wooden club shot and that second shot 
 to the first hole at Prestwick is never an easy 
 one. Misery me! he brought it off, certainly 
 short of the hole, but still well on the green. 
 Now I once again had to play two more, and 
 that from a most difficult position, as the ball 
 was not lying at all well in the rough, and, 
 the hole being placed very near the left-hand 
 edge of the green, there was very little ground 
 to come and go upon. If I pitched in the rough 
 I might readily remain there. If I pitched a 
 yard or two too far on the green I should 
 certainly shoot past the hole. It was one of 
 those shots which spell yea or nay. There were 
 no half measures possible. Fortunately for me 
 the spelling was yea, and although I did not 
 know where the ball had finished, as the shot 
 was a blind one, I knew well from the spectators 
 that it must be very near the hole, and it was 
 very near, literally dead. Yet even after this 
 hard labour, consequent upon that ill-fated first 
 shot, I was far from out of the wood, as my 
 opponent had still two strokes with which to
 
 154 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 win the match. He was miserably short, how- 
 ever, with his approach putt, and missed the 
 next one. I still was in the land of the living, 
 and as he very kindly placed his tee shot in 
 the bunker at the next hole, I managed to sur- 
 vive, and once more qualify to meet Freddie 
 Tait. 
 
 It was only putting off the evil day, how- 
 ever, as once again I had to cry enough ; but 
 it was the one match I played against him in 
 which I have always considered that had for- 
 tune been just I certainly should have survived, 
 as Freddie played some terribly in-and-out golf; 
 as usual, however, when he played against me, 
 his putting pulled him through. At one period 
 during the round I had certainly no reason to 
 complain of fortune, as for some time I was 
 one down, and, indeed, for some holes had all my 
 work cut out to remain in this position. The 
 fact was, however, that I should not have been 
 one down at all, for Tait had been extraordinarily 
 lucky. For example, his tee shot to the eighth 
 hole was so badly topped that it actually stopped
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 155 
 
 short of the bunker in front of the tee, and yet 
 he eventually obtained a half in five. Again, 
 at the ninth hole I looked more than likely to 
 win the hole, as he was all over the place, but 
 I actually lost it. I was, in a sense, respon- 
 sible for the state of affairs, as I had distinctly 
 failed to take advantage of the chances granted 
 to me. 
 
 For the next three holes I had the worst of 
 the play, and was lucky to arrive at the tee 
 to the thirteenth only one down. The next 
 two holes had a very serious effect on the 
 result of the game. At the thirteenth he was 
 a little unlucky in his approach, as, playing it 
 boldly, he ran up the hill beyond the hole and 
 remained there, giving him a shot which he 
 could not possibly lay dead. In the meanwhile 
 I was a little short in my approach, but hit 
 the back of the hole with my fourth, the ball 
 just failing to go down, and lying almost on 
 the lip of the hole. Freddie had a most diffi- 
 cult shot to play, as he had to borrow a lot, 
 and there was always a chance of the ball
 
 156 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 still remaining in the long grass on the hill. 
 He played it perfectly, but still the impetus 
 which the ball gathered coming down the hill 
 made it run some three or four yards past the 
 hole ; moreover, it looked as if he had half 
 stymied himself. He nevertheless holed out and 
 got a half. 
 
 After the approaches had been played to the 
 fourteenth I again had all the best of the 
 argument, as I was within five or six yards of 
 the hole, and he was clean over the green some 
 thirty to forty yards away. He put his third, 
 however, desperately near the hole, and I pro- 
 ceeded to throw the hole away by first of all 
 putting terribly short, and then missing the 
 next one, and was consequently two down with 
 four to play. He gave me heart of grace, how- 
 ever, by pulling his next tee shot to square leg, 
 and the country on the left-hand line to that 
 fifteenth hole at Prestwick is not at all of a 
 rosy character. He found the ball, however, 
 which you do not always do there. How it 
 was lying I cannot say, but I know that he
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 157 
 
 managed to put his second on the green, and 
 he obtained a useful half. Something much 
 the same happened at the sixteenth hole, as he 
 once again hooked his tee shot ; but number 
 two was on the green, and another half was 
 registered. To the seventeenth hole he varied 
 the monotony with a bad slice from the tee. 
 He was lying fairly well, but had a most awk- 
 ward stance. Then he perpetrated an error of 
 judgment, a sin I seldom saw him guilty of, 
 as he took a straight-faced wooden club and 
 tried to reach the green with what object I 
 can never quite make out ; it was far from a 
 certainty that I could get home in two, and 
 being dormie, he could well afford to play short. 
 However, he went for it, and nearly missed 
 the ball altogether, only sending it a few yards. 
 Then he played short, and naturally I did ditto, 
 and eventually won the hole in five to six. 
 His tee shot to the eighteenth was a repeti- 
 tion of that to the seventeenth, as it was badly 
 sliced ; but there are no hazards to the right 
 at the last hole at Prestwick, and he was lying
 
 158 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 quite clear beside the fourteenth green. Still 
 to me he seemed to have a most difficult 
 approach to play, as I considered it was a most 
 dangerous shot to try to run on account of the 
 bank he had to cross, and if he pitched it I 
 could not see how he was to remain near the 
 hole. It was soon evident, however, that he 
 knew more about the lie of the land than I 
 did, as without any hesitation he played for 
 the pitch and run stroke, and, greatly to my 
 surprise, the ball ran up and over that bank 
 with hardly a check. I still had a chance, as 
 I was inside him with my approach, but he 
 once and for all settled the question by laying 
 me a dead stymie. Not that this can be said 
 to have robbed me of the hole, as I was some 
 six yards away and the putt was down hill, 
 but it was a little disappointing not to be able 
 to have a go for it. 
 
 When talking over the match afterwards I 
 expressed surprise at the manner in which 
 Freddie Tait played that last approach, and sug- 
 gested that there must be a certain element of
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 159 
 
 luck about it. I was promptly corrected by a 
 member of the club, who remarked, " You 
 wouldn't think so if you had seen Freddie play- 
 ing a man for pennies there the other night. 
 He brought it off nearly every time." This was 
 an occasion when the filling in of an idle 
 moment had been turned to good account ; it 
 was so evident when he played the shot that 
 he was either playing it in a very haphazard 
 manner, or else knew all about it. I could 
 not understand where his knowledge came from, 
 as Prestwick was not his home course, and 
 the shot he had to play he would hardly have 
 to play once in a dozen rounds. 
 
 The final round in that championship was a 
 real game if ever I have seen one. To begin 
 with, feeling ran high, as with Freddie Tait on 
 one side and Johnnie Ball on the other, the 
 international element was very much in evi- 
 dence. Freddie was the favourite, there could 
 be no doubt about that, but one or two English 
 golfers had no hesitation in backing their man, 
 and in the end a goodly portion of Scottish
 
 160 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 "siller" crossed the border. At one time it 
 looked as if it was to be the other way about, 
 as in the first round Scotland's hero had a 
 lead of five holes, most of them presented to 
 him by his opponent, who was putting in the 
 most feeble fashion ; but at lunch time this 
 lead had been reduced to three, and the differ- 
 ence between three and five holes is a very 
 material one. In the afternoon there was a 
 very different tale to tell, as this lead of three 
 quickly disappeared, and there was a ding-dong 
 struggle. Freddie was driving wildly, one of 
 his feats being to hook his tee shot to the 
 twelfth hole clean over the burn. It was quite 
 a prodigious feat in the art of hooking, and 
 many of the spectators who were close to the 
 ' burn had no idea where the ball had gone, and 
 could not understand why he was dropping 
 another ; they could not realise that it had 
 travelled clean over their heads. Eventually 
 Johnnie Ball stood one up with two to play, 
 and then a hole was played which will always 
 remain as a landmark in the history of the game.
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 161 
 
 To begin the story, the bunker which guarded 
 the seventeenth green was more than half full 
 of water. Freddie Tait put his second right 
 into the middle of the water. Johnnie Ball 
 played a shot which, personally, I thought was 
 over, but the ominous signal was given, " down." 
 When the players arrived on the scene, Freddie 
 Tait's ball was floating, but not floating too well, 
 as it was certainly not quite on the surface of 
 the water, whilst his opponent's was on the 
 hard sand, between the water and the sleepers. 
 Freddie walked into that water, which may 
 have been anything between nine to fifteen 
 inches in depth ; as one Scottish journal re- 
 marked, "Tait walked in as a soldier should." 
 Whether it referred to Freddie's bearing or to his 
 bravery I have never been able to understand, 
 as from the latter point of view it would seem 
 almost worth while getting your feet wet to save 
 a championship ; but he went in and rightly too, 
 for if he had lifted the ball and paid the penalty 
 he would have been in a hopeless position. The 
 shot out could barely have been improved upon :
 
 162 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 he ploughed it out on to the green, and oh, 
 the wild shouts that arose ! I shall never for- 
 get them. In the meanwhile Johnnie Ball had, 
 in my opinion, quite as difficult, if not a more 
 difficult, stroke to play. He was near the 
 sleepers, and those sleepers are very upright, 
 and the sand on which his ball lay was as 
 hard as adamant. The latter was the diffi- 
 culty he had to surmount, as it is far from easy 
 to raise a ball quickly from a hard surface ; 
 but he did surmount it, as very few men 
 could have done. I do not think that many 
 appreciated what a difficult shot it was, and I 
 have always thought that it has never been 
 quite given its correct value as a wonderful re- 
 covery. Eventually that hole was halved, and 
 England stood dormie one, only to lose the 
 last hole, where Freddie holed an excellent 
 three to save himself. Then came another sen- 
 sational hole. Both drives were good, straight, 
 and far. Freddie had to play the odd, and an 
 excellent shot it was, never off the pin. I was 
 standing on the hill to the left of the hole
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 163 
 
 when the ball pitched, and I have always con- 
 sidered that it was not at all well treated, as it 
 seemed to get a shooting fall, the ground just 
 short of the hole being very hummocky. In 
 any case, whether it was owing to the way in 
 which the stroke was played, or to the unfor- 
 tunate fall, the fact remains that it left the 
 striker a putt of some seven to ten yards. 
 Johnnie Ball's approach was also ruled on the 
 pin. What would it do? skid over the green 
 like the other, or pull up ? We were not long 
 in doubt, as from the very first bounce it was 
 evident that it was not going to travel far, and 
 it gently trickled on until it passed the hole 
 by about seven feet. Freddie Tait had a most 
 difficult putt. He made a good bid, but it 
 never looked like going in, and everything de- 
 pended upon Johnnie Ball's seven-footer. A 
 man standing beside me remarked, "These are 
 just the ones he misses." I thought to myself, 
 " No, these are just the ones he holes." Had 
 it been three or four feet I should have been 
 more anxious, From where we stood we could
 
 164 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 not see the outline of the hole, and it was 
 impossible to tell whether the ball was going 
 in or not, but I liked the look of the striker as 
 the ball was travelling. I knew his attitudes 
 well, and was not at all surprised when the 
 ball disappeared. I have seen some excite- 
 ment at championship meetings, but never 
 anything quite equal to that at Prestwick in 
 1899. 
 
 The Open Championship that year at Sandwich 
 was a very uninteresting event. Harry Vardon 
 was to blame, as his extraordinary run of suc- 
 cesses since his win at Prestwick in the previous 
 year had made the event appear almost a certainty 
 for him, and a certainty he made it, for he led 
 from start to finish ; in racing phraseology, he 
 won " pulling up." Certainly Jack White even- 
 tually finished within five strokes of him, but 
 Harry had a lot in hand when the last round 
 came to be played. Many who saw him play 
 that round expressed the opinion that if he had 
 still had the other rounds to play he would have 
 won by more than five strokes. This, however, is a
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 165 
 
 somewhat natural assumption when a player can 
 afford to play his last round steadily and take 
 no undue risks. In those days, however, Harry 
 Vardon hardly ever broke down, even in a 
 minor degree. I chiefly remember that cham- 
 pionship owing to there being at one time a 
 grave doubt as to whether I should succeed in 
 qualifying for the second day's play ; failure to 
 do so would then have been a very humiliat- 
 ing affair. In the first round I was ten strokes 
 behind Vardon, but in the second round I was 
 doing much better, as I holed out the first ten 
 holes in 43, and in consequence felt very confi- 
 dent of being included in the select. I received 
 rather a rude shock, however, when a friend 
 came up and remarked, " How are you doing?" 
 " Oh, much better," I said ; " I am here in 43." 
 " How many strokes were you behind Vardon 
 this morning?" I replied, "Ten." "Let me 
 see," he said. " You will have to hurry up if 
 you want to play to-morrow ; you have still two 
 strokes to play with. If Vardon takes more than 
 two strokes from you in the next eight holes
 
 166 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 you can put your clubs by for the rest of the 
 meeting. He has holed these ten holes out 
 in 36." I suggested that he was drawing the 
 long-bow. "It is absolutely true," was the reply. 
 Fortunately Harry was merciful, and did a little 
 bit of a break-down in those eight holes.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 NATURALLY I shall always remember the year 
 1900, as it was a year in which I at last satisfied 
 an ambition which had been deep rooted in my 
 soul for a very long time. The title of amateur 
 champion was a very long time coming my way ; 
 I had struggled for it for twelve years, and in 
 each succeeding year it seemed to be going 
 farther and farther away from me. I cannot 
 say, even after the many failures that had been 
 my lot, that I had yet arrived at a state of 
 despair. Still I knew well that every year I 
 approached the competition with a gradually 
 increasing feeling of anxiety, and I was beginning 
 to realise that it would have been well had fate 
 been a little more kind to me in 1891, when 
 Laidlay beat me at the twentieth hole. At the 
 time I didn't think much of the occurrence, as 
 
 167
 
 168 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 I had the naturally optimistic feeling inseparable 
 from youth that my time was sure to come. It 
 did come at last, but its coming was just a little 
 belated : nearly nine years had passed by, and 
 I was arriving at an age when my game could 
 hardly be expected to improve. In this Amateur 
 Championship, played at Sandwich, there were 
 two notable faces missing, viz., Freddie Tait and 
 Johnnie Ball. The former, alas ! was no more, 
 and the latter still at the front in South Africa. 
 This made my task much more simple than it 
 would have been, as these two undoubtedly stand 
 out as the two best match players in the history 
 of the championship. 
 
 Before the championship the usual preliminary 
 event at Sandwich took place, the contest for 
 the St. George's Vase, and this Robert Maxwell 
 won easily. All who saw him play expressed the 
 same opinion, and that was, that he was playing 
 a magnificent long game. Personally I made the 
 most awful start imaginable in this event through 
 sheer nervousness, as for the first few holes I 
 could not hit the ball when near the hole ; on
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 169 
 
 the very first green I took four to hole out, and, 
 moreover, was never up to the hole until the 
 ball went in, a very bad sign indeed, as I knew 
 well. My start panned out as follows : 6, 5, 
 5, 7, 5 ; but eventually I reached the turn in 
 45. After that I pulled myself together and 
 came home in 38, and in the afternoon finished 
 in 78. But I did not like that nervous start, 
 and was not at all happy about it, as a repetition 
 of such an occurrence would, for a certainty, 
 cause me to say good-bye to championship honours 
 at a veiy early date. The danger was all the 
 greater as, all being well, I had to meet Maxwell 
 on the second day. This meeting came off in 
 due course, and I candidly acknowledge that I 
 started feeling very nervous. I had heard that 
 he was driving very well, and had a practical 
 confirmation of this rumour at the very first hole. 
 I hit a fair ball, but I found myself sixty or 
 seventy yards behind, and, although this did not 
 happen often, I generally found myself having to 
 play the odd from some considerable distance 
 behind.
 
 170 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 However, I knew Sandwich well enough to rea- 
 lise that, notwithstanding what some critics say, 
 long driving is not everything there. Accuracy 
 tells there as much, if not more, than on any 
 of the championship courses. I was one down 
 at the third, but I won the fourth and also the 
 fifth, and then came a very crucial incident. 
 It was at the " Maiden " hole : I had the 
 best of the tee shot, and had nearly holed out 
 in two. Maxwell had a comparatively easy 
 putt for a half, but missed it. Still he did 
 the next best thing to holing it, as he laid 
 me a dead stymie, his ball being only an inch 
 or so from the hole. Now, the green at this 
 "Maiden" hole at Sandwich is almost an ideal 
 one on which to attempt to loft stymies, as it 
 has plenty of grass on it, and it is consequently 
 very easy to get under the ball ; under ordi- 
 nary conditions, I should have had no hesi- 
 tation in going for the stroke, but this was 
 a championship, and had I knocked him in, 
 as I certainly would have done had I hit his 
 ball, I should have lost a hole which I had
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 171 
 
 every right to win. In addition to the actual 
 loss of the hole there was also the moral effect 
 to take into account, as although the match 
 was still in its comparative infancy, it was 
 certainly at a critical stage. I eventually went 
 for the shot, and luckily brought it off, making 
 me two up. The seventh hole was another 
 hole full of incident. I hit what I considered 
 a really good tee shot, but my opponent hit a 
 better. When we arrived over the bunker a 
 ball was to be seen perched on the plateau. 
 I knew that was mine, but I could not see his 
 anywhere. Eventually I discerned it away in 
 the distance, down in the strath. I felt inclined 
 to ask the spectators if any one had helped it 
 along by throwing it. From my position I 
 could not carry the bunker, so I played round 
 on the left-hand side, and had the luck to 
 run past the left-hand edge of the hazard. He 
 was easily on with an iron, but a little wide 
 on the right. Still I was more than twice as 
 far from the hole as he was. I ran my third 
 up about ten feet from the hole, and he over-
 
 172 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 ran his about six or seven feet. A good deal de- 
 pended upon those putts, and I was more than 
 thankful to see mine go down, and the feel- 
 ing of thankfulness was greatly added to when 
 his did not. From that point I never looked 
 back. I played with confidence, which meant 
 everything, and I won on the fifteenth green. 
 I have heard people when discussing that match 
 remark that there was only one in it. There 
 may have been only one in it at the fifteenth 
 hole, but in the earlier stages there was more 
 than one in it by a long way. Those two in- 
 cidents at the sixth and seventh holes had a 
 very great effect upon the result. 
 
 From the very start I had looked upon Robert 
 Maxwell as the great stumbling-block to over- 
 come. There were naturally others who had to 
 be treated with very great respect ; but the St. 
 George's Vase result, and moreover the tales told 
 as to how it was accomplished, impressed upon 
 me that he was playing the species of game 
 which is only begotten of confidence, and, not 
 at all liking that class of man, I was con-
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 173 
 
 sequently very pleased to see him hors de com- 
 bat. Once I was past him the task of reaching 
 the semi-final stage was not an overwhelmingly 
 difficult one, and in saying this I trust that 
 the two men I defeated will not think me dis- 
 courteous or lacking in appreciation of their 
 merits ; but the fact remains that I happened 
 to win both rounds in a very easy manner. 
 Then I had to meet John Graham, jun. ; he 
 was then not quite the player he is now, and, 
 moreover, had not the experience he can now 
 claim. The start to that round almost bordered 
 on the ludicrous. The first hole had to be 
 played against a slight head-wind, and it wanted 
 two real good ones to get home. My opponent 
 slightly sliced his tee shot, and with his second 
 had to play short on the right. I was well 
 placed with my tee shot, and had a go for it. 
 I knew well that it was just as much as I 
 could do, but I just brought it off, and as the 
 ball was never off the pin, and only just cleared 
 the hazard guarding the green, there seemed 
 every possibility that it must be very near the
 
 174 MY GOLFING KEMINISCENCES 
 
 hole. Graham carefully played his third, and 
 it was very evident where it was; but when we 
 came up only one ball was to be seen on the 
 green, and that was not mine. I couldn't make 
 it out, and was looking about in bewilderment 
 when a reporter some fifty yards away called out 
 something. I could not exactly catch what he 
 said, but one of the spectators did, as he re- 
 marked, " He says it is in the hole," and sure 
 enough it was. I don't know whether this un- 
 toward accident had any detrimental effect on 
 the play of my opponent, but he did not play 
 at all well, and the match was over on the 
 thirteenth green. 
 
 This early finish enabled me to witness the 
 conclusion of the other penultimate tie, that 
 between James Robb and Bramston. The latter 
 had been very much fancied from the start, and 
 justifiably fancied, as a few weeks previously 
 he had put up a performance at Westward (Ho 
 which was worthy of any amateur living. It 
 was on the occasion of the Easter meeting of 
 the Royal North Devon Club, and it so hap-
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 175 
 
 pened that at this meeting the Royal Liverpool 
 Club had sent a team down, and a team of 
 the Oxford and Cambridge Society were also 
 there. Johnnie Bramston at that time was 
 only about nineteen years of age ; in conse- 
 quence his experience must have been very 
 limited, and experience is always presumed to 
 be a great factor in serious match play. Now 
 it so happened that the powers that be in the 
 Society had a certain degree of difficulty in 
 arranging the order in which their team should 
 play. This must always be the case with a 
 team which is collected from literally all parts of 
 the globe. 
 
 On this occasion the difficulty was a little more 
 pronounced than usual, so that it was decided 
 to play the matches in a kind of " anyhow " 
 order, and at the same time give the youngsters 
 a chance, with the result that Bramston was 
 placed to play second to Humphrey Ellis. On 
 a mere question of reputation he possibly had 
 no right to be placed in that exalted posi- 
 tion, but he quickly proved that on form he
 
 176 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 might with good reason have been given the 
 absolute place of honour, as he began by 
 trouncing Horace Hutchinson to the extent 
 of ten holes, and that in one single round : he 
 followed this up by beating me by three holes, 
 and in doing so thoroughly deserved his win. 
 In the second match he backed up this form 
 by beating John Low by five holes, and wound 
 up the week by defeating Humphrey Ellis, four 
 very respectable scalps to hang at his girdle. 
 When he arrived at Sandwich there were evident 
 signs that he had not by any means lost his 
 form, as he tied for second place in the St. 
 George's Vase. In the championship he went 
 on his way rejoicing until he reached the pen- 
 ultimate round, and there can be no doubt 
 that the majority anticipated that he would 
 even proceed farther, notwithstanding Robb's 
 reputation as a match player. Being other- 
 wise employed, I did not see anything of the 
 early part of the game, but I was told that 
 Robb, though outplayed with the wooden clubs, 
 was saving himself by his short game. As one
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 177 
 
 man remarked to me when I joined the crowd 
 going to the fifteenth hole, "Robb is outplayed, 
 but he is putting beautifully ; he has just holed 
 a picture at the last hole, after having all 
 the worst of it." Whether these repeated re- 
 coveries on the part of the Scotsman had by 
 degrees had an effect upon the temperament of 
 his opponent is a question which could only be 
 settled by the latter himself, but I have seldom 
 seen a man break down in a more complete 
 fashion than Bramston did that afternoon at 
 Sandwich. The trouble commenced with his 
 pitch to the fifteenth green, which he hit all 
 along the ground right into the bunker. Robb 
 played anything but a good approach and 
 might readily have taken six to the hole, but 
 Bramston did not seem to trouble about this ; 
 he simply walked into the bunker and hacked 
 away at the ball with the same club he had 
 played his approach with. This left him one 
 down. His tee shot to the sixteenth was 
 very like his approach to the previous hole, as 
 
 it was also topped, and finished in the water 
 
 M
 
 178 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 hazard. He picked it out, dropped it, and did 
 not seem to care in the slightest where his next 
 shot went. Robb also won that hole. The 
 seventeenth saw the finish, as Bramston pre- 
 sented his enemy with the match by completely 
 missing his approach. Never in my life have 
 I seen such a complete break-down. It seemed 
 impossible to believe that a man who had been 
 playing with such sublime confidence could go 
 to pieces so utterly. He himself very aptly 
 summed up the situation when he remarked, 
 " It was not a question of nerves ; it was 
 absolute paralysis." And it certainly appeared 
 very akin to that disease. 
 
 I have often been asked the question, " Whom 
 would you rather have met Robb or Bram- 
 ston?" Before the final round took place it 
 was a very difficult query to answer, but after 
 the final was over it was infinitely more simple 
 to give a reply. There can be no doubt, how- 
 ever, that just at that time Johnnie Bram- 
 ston was playing a very strong game, and, had 
 his boyish confidence not deserted him, would
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 179 
 
 have been a very difficult man to beat, as he 
 was hitting a very long ball. In fact, right 
 through the meeting he was playing a very 
 fine game with his wooden clubs, and I cer- 
 tainly should not have had an advantage over 
 him in this department of the game, while I 
 must acknowledge that I anticipated having at 
 least a little bit the best of the wooden club 
 play against Robb. The only thing I was afraid 
 of was his putting, for which I had the most 
 \vholesome respect. Few men strike the ball 
 more freely on a putting green than James Robb, 
 and what is more, he always looks as if he was 
 going to hole the ball. As it happened he was 
 not particularly successful with his putter ; not 
 that he did not putt well, but they would not 
 go in for him, and in the first round I cer- 
 tainly had none the worst of it on the greens, 
 for which I was truly thankful. And in finish- 
 ing three up at lunch-time I was decidedly 
 fortunate, as a halved round would have been 
 a truer reflex of the run of the play. 
 
 In the afternoon my opponent's driving broke
 
 180 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 down. Whether he was pressing or not is 
 not for me to say, but the result appeared 
 to suggest that such was the case. He was 
 distinctly hurrying his swing, with disastrous 
 results, and in consequence my task was not a 
 difficult one. I was nine up before the turn 
 was reached, and eventually won on the eleventh 
 green. 
 
 The Open Championship that year was played 
 at St. Andrews, a green which, I candidly ac- 
 knowledge, completely beats me, at least when 
 I have to play by the rule of card and pencil. 
 I have been told by kind friends that this only 
 proves what an excellent test of the game it is. 
 This may or may not be, but there is certainly 
 something about the course which is not in 
 keeping with my temperament ; I have a rooted 
 dislike to hitting a ball right down the middle 
 of the course and finding it trapped. 
 
 Talking with some men before the champion- 
 ship, I happened to "remark that it was some- 
 what curious that I was hardly ever drawn with 
 a really good player. One of them remarked,
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 181 
 
 " Well, you have got one this time ; you are 
 drawn with Harry Vardon." Not knowing that 
 the draw had taken place, I took his remark 
 as a mere joke. He was quite correct, as I 
 afterwards found out. 
 
 That there was going to be a big crowd was 
 very evident, and a St. Andrews crowd re- 
 quires a deal of managing ; great then was my 
 surprise to hear, on the day before the cham- 
 pionship commenced, a rumour that the execu- 
 tive had decided not to use ropes. I could not 
 believe it, but on my interviewing one of the com- 
 mittee he confirmed this rumour. The expla- 
 nation given for this extraordinary decision was, 
 that the committee had come to the conclusion 
 that they could not possibly supply men with 
 ropes for one individual couple in a scoring 
 competition, as it would not be fair to the re- 
 mainder of the competitors. There may on a 
 close analysis be found a suspicion of logic in 
 this argument; but, considering that it was al- 
 most a foregone conclusion that fully 75 per 
 cent, of the gallery would follow Vardon and
 
 182 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 myself, it could hardly be said that we could 
 be gaining any material advantage from their 
 presence, even with the aid of ropes. 
 
 As I anticipated, this decision made our game 
 a comparative fiasco, as, whilst the gallery were 
 fairly calm and collected for the first few holes, 
 they then suddenly exhibited a decided inclination 
 to obtain seats right in front of the house ; if they 
 couldn't obtain stalls they wanted the nearest 
 seat to them. The efforts of the men decorated 
 with rosettes to keep them in order were quite 
 futile. The children led the way, then came the 
 women, and the men naturally followed in their 
 wake. Result an absolute stampede after the 
 tee shots were played, and one never got near 
 one's ball without cleaving a way through a 
 solid mass of humanity. You can stand that 
 kind of thing for a certain period, but it re- 
 quires a man with a very equable temperament 
 to put up with it for two rounds in one day ; 
 that year at St. Andrews I must say I found 
 the man so blessed, and it was Harry Vardon. 
 He never once exhibited the slightest sign of
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 183 
 
 irritation, though he really would have been 
 justified had he done so. 
 
 Trying as the crowd was in the morning 
 round, it was as nothing to that which had 
 to be encountered in the afternoon. In the 
 first place, the numbers had been considerably 
 augmented ; in the second place, those who 
 had followed round in the morning had learnt 
 a valuable lesson from their previous experience, 
 which was, that if you did not hurry you were 
 left and they did not fail to hurry that after- 
 noon. Going to the tenth hole it almost ap- 
 proached the ludicrous. The tee was placed 
 well on the left-hand side, and as there was a 
 wind blowing from the right, it was necessary 
 to play well out in that direction in order to 
 keep clear of the rough on the left. The 
 crowd lined up quite close in, with the result 
 that it was impossible to play in the desired 
 direction without there being a very grave 
 chance of disturbing somebody's features. We 
 waited some moments in the hope that some 
 one would appreciate the difficulties under
 
 184 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 which we were labouring, and eventually an 
 elderly gentleman with a rosette in his coat 
 kindly asked us if he could do anything. 
 I tried my best to explain the difficulty, 
 which he realised, and he valiantly tried to 
 put matters right. His intentions were no 
 doubt excellent, and, moreover, he was extremely 
 thorough in his methods, as he started at 
 the beginning of the long line of spectators 
 and politely requested them individually to 
 keep back a little, as the competitors could not 
 possibly play. They very amicably responded, 
 but only individually, and no sooner had he 
 proceeded some distance along the line than 
 those whom he had first requested promptly 
 moved back to their original position. They 
 were just like a herd of sheep, and eventually, 
 seeing the case was hopeless, we both had to 
 drive into the rough on the left-hand side of 
 the course. 
 
 Going to the fifteenth hole I had a rather 
 amusing experience. I pulled my tee shot right 
 through the middle of the running crowd, and
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 185 
 
 no doubt many of them played involuntary foot- 
 ball with it. Harry Vardon hit his down the 
 middle of the course. The crowd immediately 
 lined up behind his ball, leaving me a solid 
 phalanx of spectators to play over. The position 
 was absolutely hopeless. I couldn't possibly 
 play : there did not seem to be any one who 
 would take on him the responsibility of inform- 
 ing the crowd of the situation, and I certainly 
 did not feel equal to it myself. I had done 
 enough work of that description for one day, 
 so I calmly sat down beside my ball and 
 awaited developments. The fact was, / was 
 lost ! Eventually I was found, and after a 
 judicious herding of the crowd the game was 
 allowed to proceed. 
 
 This species of amusement went on all the 
 way round. Going to the sixteenth we were 
 not allowed to play to the left of the " Prin- 
 cipal's Nose," we had to play straight between 
 that hazard and the railway. Going to the 
 seventeenth Harry Vardon wished to play his 
 tee shot away to the left. He pathetically
 
 186 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 remarked, " I cannot do it without cutting some 
 one's nose off. I shall have to play out for a 
 pull." And a pull he got, as he pulled clean 
 over the heads of the crowd into the whins 
 on the left, and very few of them even noticed 
 it, with the result that there was another delay. 
 I shall never forget Harry Vardon that day. 
 He stood it all like a saint. He seemed in- 
 finitely more amused than angry ; it must have 
 cost him a stroke or two, although perhaps 
 hardly the championship, as Taylor eventually 
 won easily, finishing with a sensational 75, and 
 finishing, it may be said, in front of a crowd 
 who were kept in their proper place by the aid 
 of a rope and many stalwarts to look after it. 
 The executive had learnt a lesson. My own 
 participation in that championship consisted of 
 one meteoric flash, the first ten holes in round 
 number one, for which the total was 39. The 
 remaining eight holes for that round cost me 44.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 WHEN I travelled up to St. Andrews in 1901 I 
 cannot say that I was feeling exactly full of con- 
 fidence, as I knew that I was not playing quite 
 as consistently as I had been in the previous year, 
 and there were other reasons also. First, the field 
 is invariably a strong one on the classic green, 
 as there is an introduction of local talent, which 
 is always a serious difficulty for any one to over- 
 come. Not that this St. Andrews local element 
 ever win championships on their own green 
 they in truth seem to do better when away 
 from the inspiring influence of their traditional 
 home but whether they win or not, they 
 are invariably desperately difficult men to defeat. 
 They certainly add to the difficulties of the 
 man who eventually gets through by clearing 
 out the weak. The result is that you have 
 
 187
 
 188 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 to meet a strong man literally every round, and 
 the stronger the man you have to meet naturally 
 the greater the possibility of defeat in the indi- 
 vidual round. Again, I cannot say that I fancied 
 myself as even a match-player over the classic 
 green, and this notwithstanding that I had once 
 very nearly won a championship there, for since that 
 time, I always found it very difficult to restrain a 
 certain feeling of irritation from overcoming me 
 when I drove into any of the bunkers from the 
 tee. This time, however, I made up my mind 
 that, come what might, I would play the game 
 in an equable frame of mind. If I did get 
 into bunkers I would just play out, and treat 
 these disasters as necessary evils. I may say, 
 however, that I had in addition made out 
 a plan of campaign to avoid these bunkers as 
 much as possible, for I had come to the con- 
 clusion that it was the man who steered clear 
 of them who eventually succeeded in winning 
 over St. Andrews. This was a little mental pro- 
 gramme which sounds very well in theory, and 
 before the event seems very easy to carry out,
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 189 
 
 but it is not nearly so easy to stick to in the 
 heat of the battle. Still, on the whole, my 
 temperament remained very much what I in- 
 tended right through the week's play ; though I 
 may have on occasions felt a little irritable, it 
 was only momentarily, and I quickly pulled myself 
 together. As regards the avoiding of the hazards, 
 I remained most faithful to that principle, for 
 wherever there was any grave risk of trouble from 
 the tee I invariably took a short club, with which 
 I knew I could keep fairly straight. As an 
 example, not once did I use my driver going to 
 the sixth hole, and I have not the slightest doubt 
 that this restraint paid me in the long run. 
 
 I won my first few heats fairly easily, and I 
 looked like doing the same even when I met 
 Laidlay, who played such a nervous, halting game 
 on the outward half that at one time I stood five 
 up. Then, however, he began to improve and I 
 began to go back, till I found myself scratching 
 for halves, some of which I did not succeed in 
 obtaining. The result was that I only found 
 myself two up with three to play. Again I had
 
 190 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 quite the worst of the approach to the sixteenth 
 hole, as I had a long putt to lay dead, and he 
 had one which he might readily have holed. I 
 fortunately managed to get mine dead, and he 
 putted very short, missed his next, and the match 
 was over. Had the putting gone the other way 
 I should have only been one up with two to play, 
 not at all pleasant after being at one time five 
 up. Indeed, on the sixteenth green I didn't at 
 all like the situation. In my next round I only 
 played seven holes when my opponent had to 
 retire, and heat number five I won some way 
 from home. This brought me to the semi-final, 
 and against Horace Hutchinson, curiously enough 
 the only time I had ever met him in a champion- 
 ship. It was a peculiar game. He first of all pre- 
 sented me with a lead of three holes ; then the 
 boot was on the other leg, and I found myself 
 one down with five to play. At this point I wit- 
 nessed, with more than an average degree of satis- 
 faction, a well-hit tee shot of his pitch plump 
 into the middle of the " Beardies " and never come 
 out. I gave them a very wide berth, taking a
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 191 
 
 short club for safety, and was rewarded by winning 
 the hole. This disaster appeared to have an effect 
 on rny opponent's play, as he played the fifteenth 
 and sixteenth indifferently, and I annexed them 
 both and became dormie. Up to that time I had 
 never been called upon to play the seventeenth hole, 
 but I had already made up my mind how I was 
 going to play it, and that was right away to the 
 left, keeping my second shot on the line of the 
 first green. It is a peculiar line maybe, but I 
 infinitely prefer to play the third shot straight 
 at the pot bunker in place of trying to slip past 
 it from the right-hand side. Indeed, whenever I 
 saw Andrew Kirkaldy play the hole he invariably 
 played that line, or at least whenever he could 
 not get near the edge of the green with his second, 
 and Andrew's knowledge of St. Andrews is suffi- 
 ciently good for rne to follow. Eventually I 
 played a shot which might have ended in disaster. 
 There was certainly a risk in playing it as boldly 
 as I did, but I was in no mood for half measures 
 at that seventeenth hole, as I had seen it frittered 
 away too often by half-hearted safety play.
 
 192 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 I played my third straight at the left-hand 
 corner of the bunker with a wooden spoon, trying 
 at the same time to put as much cut on the ball 
 as possible. Fortunately for me I got that cut 
 on, for although the ball pitched on the green, 
 it pulled up so quickly that it stopped some 
 feet short of the road, and I had no difficulty in 
 obtaining the requisite half. I have heard dif- 
 ferent opinions expressed about that shot, some 
 saying it was one of the best shots they had ever 
 seen played, and although I played it myself I 
 cannot help thinking that it had its merits. On 
 the other hand, one or two severe critics said 
 that it was a silly shot, which deserved to be 
 punished, and that it was not golf. Perhaps it 
 was not quite the traditional way to approach 
 that much revered hole. It was a stroke which 
 savoured of want of respect for the hole's many 
 difficulties, but I like these silly disrespectful 
 shots, they seem to pay in championships. 
 
 The other semi-final, between John Low and 
 John Graham, jun., was a very close affair. The 
 former stood three up with four to play, but lost
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 193 
 
 the succeeding three holes, and the odds seemed 
 to be on the Royal Liverpool player, the last 
 hole at St. Andrews being essentially the hole 
 for a long driver. As it happened, however, 
 John Low played it perfectly, and John Graham, 
 jun., did not ; he missed his second shot, and 
 this cost him the hole and the match. I shall 
 always remember that match on account of one 
 incident which occurred when the last hole was 
 being played. I had gone to the top balcony of 
 the club to see the finish, and without knowing 
 exactly how the match stood ; but I had heard 
 that Low was three up and four to play, and 
 when I saw his opponent drive off to the last 
 hole it was evident that the match was still 
 alive. Then a press messenger came running 
 up, and intimated that the players were all 
 square. In the room behind me there was a 
 table, around which were grouped four men 
 deep in the intricacies of bridge, one of whom 
 I noticed had apparently something to do with 
 the management of the meeting at least he 
 sported the badge of a club official. I was 
 
 N
 
 194 MY GOLFING EEMINISCENCES 
 
 casually asked how the games were going. I 
 replied, "There is a good match coming up. 
 Graham has been three down with four to play 
 against Low, but they are now all square with 
 one to play." I rather anticipated that there 
 would be a stampede to see the finish from 
 the balcony, from which coign of vantage you 
 can see every shot played. But not a bit of 
 it ! The four golfers proceeded once again 
 to deal the cards, and he who sported the 
 official badge remarked, " I don't take much 
 interest in it now ; all my horses are knocked 
 out," apparently referring to the sweepstakes. 
 I said nothing but thought a lot. 
 
 I must candidly acknowledge that I thought 
 I should beat my old friend John Low in that 
 final round, even although it had to be played 
 at St. Andrews, over which green he is, no 
 doubt, a more dangerous opponent than on any 
 other course in the kingdom. Over eighteen 
 holes I should have been anxious, but over 
 thirty-six holes I had every confidence. The 
 fact was, I had not a very high opinion of his
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 195 
 
 wooden club play, as I had never seen him 
 play them really well ; admitting that his head- 
 work and intimate knowledge of the green, 
 backed up by his putting, might mitigate in 
 a degree deficiencies from the tee and through 
 the green, I still had an idea that his wooden 
 club play was sure to find him out in a thirty- 
 six hole contest. It did not however ; he 
 played those wooden clubs of his as I had 
 never seen him play them before. I kept wait- 
 ing for the serious mistakes, and they did 
 not come. In the first round I was distinctly 
 fortunate in being able to hold on to him for 
 the first twelve holes ; indeed, if the truth is to 
 be told, it was only by the aid of superior put- 
 ting that I managed to do so. Towards the 
 end of the round I managed at last to get a 
 little the best of the long play, and taking ad- 
 vantage of the opportunity, finished with a three- 
 hole advantage ; but I cannot say that I quite 
 deserved this lead, and felt that I had no reason 
 to cavil at fortune. 
 
 In the second round I began by winning
 
 196 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 the first hole; at the fifth I added another 
 to my lead, and stood five up. This appeared 
 very comfortable ; but I had to reckon with a 
 man who always tries to the very last stroke, 
 and he gradually began to [get those five holes 
 back. Still keeping up his accurate wooden club 
 play, he suddenly found his putting shoes. His 
 first real long one, however, was at the thir- 
 teenth, where he holed out from the far dim 
 distance ; as I was not dead after playing the 
 odd it probably made no difference, but it 
 tickled the crowd immensely, and that was 
 something. Eventually I stood one up with 
 four to play. The fifteenth was a peculiarly 
 played hole and full of incident. I had all 
 the best of the first two shots, and was quite 
 close to the green. He was very short with his 
 second, and for his approach decided to play 
 a species of patent spared shot with a wooden 
 club. The crowd were cleared away from the 
 left-hand side of the course, and it was evident 
 that he intended to slice the shot into the wind. 
 He didn't fail to slice it by any means, as the
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 197 
 
 ball finished in the rough on the right, short 
 of the green. In the meanwhile I had placed 
 my approach past the hole. Playing the odd, 
 he pitched the ball up about six yards from 
 the hole. Now I had to play the like from a 
 distance of about eight yards. It was not an 
 easy putt. It was down hill, and there was a 
 borrow from the right, and to remain dead I 
 had to just crawl over a sharp hill, which was 
 situated about six feet from the hole. Difficult 
 as the putt was, a portion of the crowd, who 
 stood within about six feet of my ball, made 
 it none the easier by keeping up a running 
 commentary as to the possibilities of the ball 
 not going dead. I made a request that they 
 might not talk whilst I was playing, but they 
 paid but little attention to this request, and 
 finally I had to play, conversation or no con- 
 versation. From the time the ball left the club 
 it appeared on the short side, and my friends 
 behind did not fail to realise the fact, as they 
 addressed the ball in all sorts of terms, many of 
 which would barely stand reproduction, and truly
 
 198 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 fervent were the expressions when the ball just 
 failed to surmount the hill, and remained some 
 five or six feet short. As one sportsman audibly 
 
 remarked, "The winna hole it, you'll see." 
 
 I may say I was rather of his opinion ; but 
 the audible endorsement of my thoughts seemed 
 somewhat unnecessary. Then Master John Low 
 proceeded to putt and made no mistake whatever, 
 as the ball went in and never looked like going 
 anywhere else. Then the cheering commenced 
 in no half-hearted fashion, but I did not mind 
 that : it was only natural, as the effort was a 
 great one. I did get my putt down, but it was 
 a lucky one, only just scraping in. The only 
 noise 1 heard was the remark of Johnnie Low, 
 " Well putted, Harold," and that compensated 
 for much ; but, in truth, it was far from a 
 good putt, as I mistook the line altogether, and 
 no one was more surprised than I when the 
 ball fell into the hole. 
 
 Still one up with three to go. The sixteenth 
 was not at all well played by either, and eventu- 
 ally I was left with a putt of about three feet for
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 199 
 
 a half in five. My effort was a very weak one, 
 and many of the followers of the game very 
 quickly appreciated the fact, as there was a 
 wild shout of exultation, perhaps quite excus- 
 able under the circumstances. I was wander- 
 ing to the next tee feeling in a semi-dejected, 
 irritable frame of mind, possibly the worst state 
 a man playing a serious game of golf can 
 drift into, when an excited spectator, caring 
 little and heeding less, made a bee line for 
 a front place, and in his mad career charged 
 full into me ; he nearly knocked me over, and 
 as he travelled by on his hurricane passage 
 I could not help hearing the remark : " We'll 
 teach these b y Englishmen." This freely ex- 
 pressed opinion had a most salutary effect upon 
 me : a modified form of anger took the place 
 of the nervous hesitation which pervaded my 
 system, and I said to myself, "Will you?" 
 It was just the necessary antidote I required, 
 and I began to play those last two holes as 
 if they were the only two holes to be played 
 in the championship. I forgot all about the
 
 200 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 fact that at one time I stood five up, and was 
 now all even ; it was a new game, and I played 
 it as such. 
 
 I cannot quite remember what my opponent 
 did with his first and second shot at that 
 hole. I simply concentrated my attention on 
 my own strokes. I remember, however, that 
 he was well short of the green in three, and 
 had quite a difficult approach to play for his 
 fourth. In the meanwhile I had taken the 
 line which I considered best that is, well 
 to the left ; but I had slightly hooked my 
 second, and was farther away from the green 
 than I cared for. As in the previous round, 
 I decided to chance the bunker. I asked 
 my caddie, David Herd, whether I could reach 
 the road, and he expressed an opinion that 
 he would be surprised if I did. This was 
 quite enough for me, as I had learnt by 
 this time that he knew the distances at St. 
 Andrews more than well, and in consequence 
 I took my driver and played a full shot a 
 shot which eventually finished within a few
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 201 
 
 yards of the hole. As in the previous round, 
 there was a decided risk in playing this shot; 
 but a half-hearted shot might have ended in 
 losing the hole, and I had the opinion of 
 my caddie that it was very improbable that I 
 should get as far as the road. I have heard 
 people express the opinion that it was the 
 finest shot that they have ever seen played in 
 a championship. With this I cannot agree, as 
 to me there seemed only one risk, and that was 
 the possibility of getting into the pot bunker 
 guarding the green, and that was a difficult 
 object to hit from a distance of about 190 
 yards. If I had just struck it I might readily 
 have lost the hole ; but my opponent was so 
 far from the green with his third that there 
 was still more than a good chance of a half, 
 as he could barely expect to hole out in any- 
 thing less than six. As it so happened, he put 
 himself out of court by placing his approach in 
 the road, and eventually gave up the hole ; but 
 the proximity of my ball to the hole undoubtedly 
 made him play a bold shot, as nothing over five
 
 202 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 could have been of any use to him, and it was 
 in rightly playing the bold game that he came 
 to grief. Dormie one. The last hole could be 
 nicely reached in two, but both shots had to 
 be hit. From the tee I had slightly the worst 
 of the argument, as I was too much on the 
 left-hand side of the course, and when I came 
 up I found that I was lying in a divot mark, 
 of which there are more than a good many on 
 this part of the links. Still there was nothing 
 to carry and that meant much ; so I took my 
 driver in the hope that I could "spring" the 
 ball out and get a long run upon it. Once 
 again the shot came off. The ball possibly 
 did not carry more than 120 yards ; but I 
 knew well from the strain on the shaft that 
 it had plenty of steam behind it, and that 
 once it landed, it would run like a hare : my 
 surmise was not wrong, as it mounted the hill 
 short of the green without a falter, and toddled 
 on until old Tom, who held the flag, had to 
 step aside to let it pass. Not a sound came 
 forth from the crowd, their powers of articula-
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 203 
 
 tion seemed suddenly to have deserted them, 
 but from the spectators lining up behind the 
 green came one very decided sign of appre- 
 ciation. It was a Zulu war whoop, a sound 
 which I had heard before, and it came from 
 a good strong pair of lungs, and, moreover, it 
 was meant. A man close beside me remarked, 
 ''Good heavens, what is that?" I simply re- 
 plied, " I know," and I did. This shot literally 
 settled the verdict ; Johnnie Low made quite a 
 good bid for a three, but even had he done it 
 I should still have been left with an easy putt 
 to win the match : as it was, a four was quite 
 sufficient. 
 
 The Open Championship was that year played 
 at Muirfield, a green on which people consider 
 I ought of necessity to do well, simply for the 
 reason that I happened to win on the first occa- 
 sion the championship was played there. Now I 
 have no strong predilection for the Muirfield 
 course, but that is another story. I did, how- 
 ever, realise that year that it is necessary to 
 drive comparatively straight at Muirfield. In the
 
 204 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 very first round of the championship I sliced 
 more than one tee shot, and these shots met 
 with due punishment, with the result that I took 
 89 for the first round. 
 
 I have only one grievance in that round, and 
 that was, that a really good approach to the 
 fifteenth hit the top of the sleepers and bounded 
 back -into a truly horrible place, with the con- 
 sequence that an eight was placed on my card, 
 and I did not play too carefully for the re- 
 maining five holes ; but well as I played in the 
 following rounds, it cannot be said that it made 
 any difference to the championship, as Braid, 
 Vardon, and Taylor would still have been in 
 front of me ; again it must be considered that 
 when doing so well on the second day, I was 
 playing without that feeling of responsibility 
 which is inseparable from a contest in which 
 you have a decided chance of success. This was 
 the year in which Braid won his first cham- 
 pionship. A brilliant round of 74 at his third 
 attempt placed him in a comparatively safe 
 position, and I am told that he might have
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 205 
 
 done better in his last effort, which totalled 80, 
 had he not played on the safe side. There 
 was quite a dramatic finish to this final round. 
 To the last hole he hit a very long ball from 
 the tee, and was within easy reach of the green. 
 I was one of a group of spectators standing 
 behind the green. It was evident that Braid 
 was using an iron club. He hit at it desper- 
 ately hard, and there was a smothered groan 
 when a bright object was seen to be flying 
 along the ground. There was a general impres- 
 sion that he had almost missed the ball, but 
 suddenly there was a cry, " Look out ! " and 
 the ball came down flop on to the green, and 
 finished up on the teeing ground to the first 
 hole, which was placed almost directly behind 
 the last green. The object we had seen career- 
 ing along the turf was the head of the club, 
 which had broken off short at the socket. Harry 
 Vardon had eventually a chance of tieing with 
 Braid, as an aggregate of twelve for the last 
 three holes would have given him the same 
 total. Everything depended upon his approach
 
 206 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 to the sixteenth hole. He took the trouble to 
 have a good look at it, and then quietly dropped 
 the ball into the bunker, a species of sin Harry 
 is very seldom guilty of. This settled his chance 
 once and for all.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 IF I approached the championship of 1901 at 
 St. Andrews in a certain spirit of what might be 
 termed waning confidence, it was as nothing to 
 the feelings which had possession of me when 
 the Amateur Championship, in the ordinary cycle 
 of events, had to be played at Hoylake in 1902. 
 I simply had no faith in my game. The rhythm 
 of my swing was all away, and I could not 
 time the ball at all. I knew it before I ever 
 travelled to the championship. There was just 
 the possible hope that I might strike a happy 
 vein of play during the championship week, but 
 such hopes proved vain, as from the international 
 match onwards I played very scratchy golf, hardly 
 playing a single stroke with even the slightest 
 degree of confidence. Fortune was kind to me 
 in this respect, that I had the most simple posi- 
 
 207
 
 208 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 tions in the draw it was possible to imagine, for in 
 the first four rounds I had not to meet a single 
 player who in ordinary club events could be 
 classed better than scratch. -I scraped through 
 those four rounds, but in one of them, against 
 a clubmate, A. C. Blain, I had every reason to 
 be thankful, as he had quite the best of the 
 final holes played, and I should have met a 
 well-merited fate had I been beaten. The game 
 lasted until the twenty - first hole, and that 
 one I certainly should have lost, as with my 
 third I was tucked up under the bank of the 
 bunker guarding the green, and should almost 
 to a certainty have taken seven to hole out. He 
 appeared to have the hole at his mercy, but 
 fate was kind to me, in that he missed two 
 consecutive approach shots, and finally gave up 
 the hole. Sooner or later I must come across a 
 player who could play sufficiently well to beat 
 me, and I knew that my life was not going 
 to be a long one. The end came in the fifth 
 round, when I had to meet Sidney Fry. All he 
 had to do was to play steadily, and he did it,
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 209 
 
 with the result that he won on the sixteenth 
 green. I may say, however, that his run and 
 pitch shots with his jigger were mainly instru- 
 mental in pulling him through, as time after 
 time he placed these shots within a yard or so 
 of the hole, and then invariably holed out. But 
 this is barely a cause for complaint, as it is a 
 habit which Sidney Fry has. 
 
 In the penultimate round my conqueror had 
 to meet Robert Maxwell, who, from the very 
 start of the tournament, was probably the most 
 favoured one in the eyes of the public, and, 
 now that the number had been reduced to a 
 mere matter of four players, was a very warm 
 favourite. It was a game in which neither 
 player can be said to have done himself justice, 
 as many indifferent strokes were played ; but 
 Maxwell's defeat was mainly due to the miss- 
 ing of two very short putts. The first of these 
 failures happened at the second hole, when 
 he had quite a short one for the half, but 
 never hit the ball hard enough ; the other 
 occurred on the seventeenth green, when he
 
 210 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 again missed one which appeared to the spec- 
 tators to be more easily measured by inches 
 than feet, though no doubt it was longer than 
 it looked. It was a very crucial hole to lose in 
 more ways than one, for first, from the practical 
 point of view, it left him one down with one 
 to play. Secondly, it was a hole which he ap- 
 peared much more likely to win than to lose; 
 his opponent had half missed his second, and it 
 was only by the aid of that deadly run up of 
 his with his jigger that Fry was enabled to 
 make a bid for a four. These little turns of 
 fortune's wheel are apt to have a little moral 
 effect on the play for the following hole. 
 
 The other semi-final round between Robb and 
 Hutchings was a curious affair ; Robb had the 
 most extraordinary luck at the eleventh hole, 
 where, after slicing his drive far to the right, he 
 holed out with his iron ; Hutchings, who was at 
 that time one down and looked like squaring 
 the match, being close to the hole with his 
 tee shot, was simply left with the possibility 
 of a half, which he failed to obtain. Great as
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 211 
 
 was Robb's luck at this hole, he had no reason 
 to be beholden to fortune at the next, as a 
 beautifully played approach trickled past the 
 hole into the pond beyond. I have heard this 
 particular shot stigmatised as an ill-advised one ; 
 but I believe the truth is that he used a club 
 which he had borrowed, and was not quite 
 aware of its power. I cannot help thinking 
 that that pond beyond the twelfth hole at 
 Hoylake is hardly a fair hazard ; at least, the 
 extreme penalty of dropping behind and losing 
 a stroke is a little severe on the player who 
 plays boldly for the pin. Robb's stroke on this 
 particular occasion was a really good one, and 
 deserved a better fate. Eventually Hutchings 
 stood one up with two to play, and he had no 
 difficulty in winning on the seventeenth green, 
 as Robb played that hole just about as badly 
 as I have ever seen a hole played. He began 
 by hooking his drive right into the bunker 
 guarding the out-of-bounds field on the left 
 a feat not very often accomplished. His 
 recovery was far from a good one, and his
 
 212 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 third was even worse, as he almost missed it 
 altogether. It represented a real solid break- 
 down. 
 
 When the championship week began there 
 were a certain number of the entrants who were 
 armed with the American rubber- cored ball ; in 
 fact, it is more than probable that every man 
 in the field had at some time or another experi- 
 mented with the new invention, but in the majo- 
 rity of cases the experiment had apparently not 
 been considered eminently satisfactory, as most of 
 the cracks still remained faithful to the old gutty. 
 There were one or two notable exceptions, how- 
 ever, and amongst these exceptions were the 
 two finalists, Hutchings and Fry. Whether they 
 realised that there must be an advantage in 
 using the ball, or whether they found that it 
 was a ball which was suited to their particular 
 style of play, is a question for themselves to 
 decide. I have an idea myself that they were 
 wise in their generation, and readily appreciated 
 a fact, which has since been so conclusively 
 proved, that, whatever disadvantages were to
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 213 
 
 be found in the use of this new ball, they 
 were more than counterbalanced by the many 
 advantages it conferred. 
 
 There was a general opinion at the time that 
 the use of the rubber-cored ball tended to in- 
 crease the element of chance in one's game. 
 You might putt very well with it, and on the 
 other hand you might go to pieces on the 
 greens and lose all confidence. The play in 
 the final round certainly tended to emphasise 
 that opinion, as in the morning round nothing 
 could have been finer than the short game of 
 Hutchings, whilst in the afternoon round he 
 exhibited the most evident signs of lack of 
 confidence and hesitation on the greens. There 
 may have been final rounds quite as exciting, 
 and there may be again ; but it seems hardly 
 probable that ever again will a final be played 
 in which a player more than once held a lead 
 of eight holes, and then only scrambled home 
 by holing quite a good putt on the very last 
 green. The way those holes slipped away from 
 him was most extraordinary. He did not seem
 
 214 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 to be playing badly; but, in contradistinction to 
 his play in the morning, nothing would come 
 off for him in this round. He kept taking 
 just one too many at nearly every hole 
 a notable exception, and a more than useful 
 exception too, being the sixteenth hole, when, 
 after two magnificent shots, the second of which 
 reached the green, he eventually holed out in 
 four. Even after these two shots, however, he 
 was once again in a tight corner, as he was very 
 lazy with his long putt, and left himself a good 
 three yards from the hole ; that putt he had 
 to get in to obtain a half, as Fry had already 
 holed one considerably longer. It was a crucial 
 moment, as failure would have left him only one 
 up with two to play ; moreover, there would have 
 been the moral effect of having lost seven out of 
 the last ten holes ; six out of ten was quite bad 
 enough as it was. This final effort of Sidney 
 Fry's, even although it ended in failure, must 
 always rank as one of the pluckiest efforts in 
 the history of the game ; for a player to get 
 holes back at the rate he did, it is of course
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 215 
 
 almost a sine qua non that his opponent should 
 give him a good number of chances, but it is 
 not always easy to take these chances when 
 they occur. 
 
 That year, in the time between the Amateur 
 and the Open Championship, also played at 
 Hoylake, there was naturally an abnormal amount 
 of discussion as to the merits of the rubber- 
 cored ball. Hutchings and Fry had both used 
 it, and in this there certainly seemed an indi- 
 cation that there might be a slight advantage 
 in deserting the time-honoured gutty ; but, with 
 the true conservative spirit of the Briton, the 
 majority of the leading players would have 
 none of the American ball. The professionals in 
 particular set their faces sternly against the inno- 
 vation ; and, notwithstanding the lesson taught 
 by the result of the amateur event, it is a fact 
 that a week before the event hardly a single 
 player of note intended to use a rubber-cored 
 ball in the championship. By degrees, how- 
 ever, a few threw over their allegiance to the 
 gutty, and amongst this number was Sandy
 
 216 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 Herd. He came down to play in that cham- 
 pionship a contemptuous hater of all rubber- 
 cored balls, and it wanted a very strong practical 
 proof of their advantages to shake his belief. 
 Fortunately for him he obtained the necessary 
 evidence from Mr. John Ball, jun., who, playing 
 against him with the hated foreign invention, 
 made such a mess of poor Sandy that he was 
 promptly converted, no doubt strongly against his 
 will. Nevertheless converted he was, and he 
 used the rubber-cored ball during that champion- 
 ship, and won it. Whether his success was 
 mainly due to the use of the new ball is a mere 
 matter of opinion ; but there can be but little 
 doubt that, until nearly the end of the final round, 
 when he broke down in rather alarming fashion, 
 ' he played with more confidence than he had done 
 in any championship for some time past. I re- 
 member well meeting him when he came in from 
 his first round, which I found out he had com- 
 pleted in 76. I was so struck by his appear- 
 ance of satisfaction that I at once came to the 
 conclusion that the new toy was much to his
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 217 
 
 liking, and proceeded to back him to win 
 outright, with very satisfactory results in the 
 end. This championship was a peculiarly in 
 and out affair. Firstly, Vardon made such 
 strong play that it seemed as if no one could 
 catch him ; his first round of 72, with two balls 
 out of bounds at the first hole, being a phe- 
 nomenal performance. At the end of the first 
 day's play he led by four strokes from Herd ; 
 but the morning round on the second day served 
 to completely reverse the situation, as Herd ac- 
 complished a 73, Vardon requiring 80. The 
 former then led by three strokes, and unless 
 they both broke down badly no one else was in 
 it. At the commencement of the final round 
 Herd exhibited not the slightest sign of break- 
 ing down, as he holed out the first seven holes 
 in an average of fours. Then he began to 
 throw strokes away in handfuls, and when he 
 teed off to the last hole his total was 76. His 
 second shot to that hole was an " over at any 
 cost " shot ; he took a wooden club and the 
 ball pitched nearly up to the pin and, racing
 
 218 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 past, went hard against the wooden palings 
 beyond. He was probably a little lucky here, 
 for the ball finished in the pathway leading into 
 a garden, and he certainly had an easier shot 
 than if he had been tucked up in the long 
 grass against the woodwork. At the time there 
 was a question as to whether he had the right 
 to open the gateway leading into the garden, 
 so that he could obtain a free swing of the 
 club, but it was very rightly decided that the 
 gate must remain closed ; he recovered well and 
 very nearly got a four; this made his total 81, 
 and left Vardoii a 78 to tie and a 77 to win, 
 both scores well within his compass, and I have 
 no doubt that Sandy began to regret the strokes 
 he had thrown away. Vardon, however, was not 
 . playing the game he had been on the first 
 day, and when the last hole came to be played 
 he was left with only a four to tie. His tee 
 shot was a good one, but he had an extra- 
 ordinary piece of luck with his second, as it 
 pitched short of the bunker and hopped over. 
 It is said that he had heard of Herd's mis- 
 fortune in going under the palings beyond the
 
 MY GOLFING KEMINISCENCES 219 
 
 hole, and being afraid of doing likewise, he 
 spared the shot too much. Still this slice of 
 luck availed him nothing, as his fourth shot, a 
 putt apparently of anything between seven and 
 nine feet, just slid round the edge of the hole. 
 Harry as usual simply smiled, knowing full well 
 however that it had cost him his chance of the 
 championship. My own scoring in that cham- 
 pionship provided a peculiar coincidence. When 
 I won the championship in 1897 my total on 
 the first day was 155, and on the second day 159, 
 giving an aggregate total of 314. In the year 
 1902, my totals for the individual days were 
 exactly the same, viz. 155 and 159, and naturally 
 the aggregate total was the same. There the 
 coincidence ended, as in place of being first I 
 had to rest content with the position of seventh. 
 I only wish .that I had played as well in the 
 amateur event as I did in the open.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE championship of 1903 had to be played 
 at Muirfield. Now I did once manage to win a 
 championship at Muirfield, and as I have said 
 before, in consequence the view seems to have 
 been held that the East Lothian course was one 
 peculiarly suited to my style of play. I cannot 
 say that I am in fact at all in love with 
 Muirfield as a test of the game. As it turned 
 out my career was a short one, for I fell by 
 the way in round number two before H. W. 
 Beveridge. It was a game in which I had 
 only to thank myself for my defeat, as at 
 the seventeenth hole I played a half-hearted, 
 headless kind of shot from the bunker beyond 
 the green. It happened thus : I stood in the 
 position of being one up with two to play, but 
 my tee shot to the seventeenth was far from a 
 
 220
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 221 
 
 good one, and I had to force my approach out 
 of the rough. The shot was well enough 
 played ; but, as is often the case when a ball 
 has to be forced out of long grass, there was 
 too much run upon it, and it trickled into the 
 bunker beyond the hole. My opponent very 
 obligingly did exactly the same thing, and 
 when we came up to view the balls we found 
 that my ball was lying quite clean on the 
 sand, whilst his was in not at all a favour- 
 able position right under the face of the bunker. 
 I had literally the choice of every stroke in 
 the field of bunker play, as the ball was 
 actually teed up. I am afraid I chose the 
 wrong one, as I tried to cut right underneath 
 the ball with a lofted mashie, and I very much 
 succeeded, for I cut so much under it that I 
 still left it in the hazard. I eventually lost 
 that hole, and also the match on the nineteenth 
 green. It was a species of error of judgment 
 for which there was no excuse. I should have 
 been out of the hazard at any cost, particularly 
 as Beveridge was lying badly, and could hardly
 
 222 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 expect to get his ball near the hole. But it is 
 easy to be wise after the event, and I thoroughly 
 deserved the fate meted out to me. 
 
 Robert Maxwell won that championship, and 
 on form deserved to win it ; but he did have 
 a squeak against Herman de Zoete in the pen- 
 ultimate round, in which the match was won 
 and lost on the nineteenth green. I do not 
 think I ever remember seeing two players who 
 showed such signs of having had enough of 
 it, and the fervent remark, " Thank God that's 
 over," from the champion to be, seemed to come 
 right from the bottom of his soul. His oppo- 
 nent acknowledged after the match that when 
 he was putting on the final green he was in 
 such a state of nervousness that he was not 
 quite sure which end of his putter he was 
 holding, and his efforts rather bore out this 
 admission. 
 
 At this period of my reminiscences I think 
 it will be wise to omit any reference to personal 
 efforts in the open event ; it is best to draw a 
 veil over them, and I shall consequently do so.
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 223 
 
 I have always looked upon Harry Vardon's 
 win at Prestwick in 1903 as just about the 
 most wonderful in his career. That he was a 
 very sick man at the time there can be no 
 shadow of doubt, and it was a truly marvellous 
 example of mental pluck that enabled him to 
 finish those four rounds and win by no less 
 than six strokes. Further, I have an idea that 
 had he been at all pressed in the final round 
 he would have won more easily than he did ; 
 he was playing on the safe side, and rightly 
 so, for he was leading the field by no less than 
 seven strokes with one round to go, and any- 
 thing under 80 would almost for a certainty 
 have still left him in first place.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE Amateur Championship of 1904 at Sand- 
 wich will always remain memorable for the suc- 
 cess of the American invasion. The idea that 
 the Yankees were at last going to take part in 
 the championship was generally received with 
 approval, but I hardly think that there was a 
 single British golfer who anticipated that they 
 had any chance of actually proving success- 
 ful. We well knew that Walter Travis must be 
 a good player, as he had done so many great 
 things over the water ; but we laid the flatter- 
 ing unction to our souls that the standard of 
 American golf was not nearly on a par with 
 that played in the old country ; personally I 
 still believe that assumption to be true, and I 
 say this notwithstanding the comparative failure 
 of our four professionals in the recent tour in 
 
 224
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 225 
 
 Mexico. However, in Walter Travis we struck 
 a golfer with extraordinary powers of concentra- 
 tion, and a man who has taken the trouble 
 to thoroughly master the science of the game. 
 When such a player is in form, as Travis un- 
 doubtedly was that week, he must be a most 
 difficult man to beat. It was not so much that 
 he accomplished anything particularly brilliant, 
 but he maintained such a uniform average of 
 really good golf that the man who aspired to 
 beat him would have to go all the way. After 
 the event there were many who openly expressed 
 the opinion that Travis was distinctly lucky, 
 but no man won a championship yet who 
 had any reason to complain of fortune. Suffi- 
 cient for the day is the luck thereof. It 
 is so easy to criticise a winner's performance ; 
 for instance, there are those who hold the 
 opinion that Robb should have beaten him. Per- 
 haps Robb takes this view himself, and it is 
 quite possible that in reviewing the round he 
 may be able to remember one or I two happen- 
 ings which had a very serious effect on the
 
 226 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 trend of events. Again, Harold Reade actually 
 stood two up with four to play, but allowed the 
 last four holes to go astray. When a man has 
 held such a useful lead with only four holes to 
 play and then gets beaten, it would rather appear 
 that he must have thrown the match away ; 
 but all credit belongs to Travis for grasping the 
 opportunities which Reade gave him, and indeed 
 it was in this respect that the American player 
 proved such a success at Sandwich. Whether 
 he was up or down appeared to make little 
 difference to him, as he still played the same 
 accurate scientific game, and his steady imper- 
 turbability undoubtedly had an effect on the 
 play of his opponents. From my own point of 
 view, I only once made the semblance of a fight 
 ' against him, and that was when I had pulled 
 him down from four up to two up at the 
 eleventh hole, and there seemed a slight chance 
 that I might make a match of it after all, parti- 
 cularly as he had pulled his tee shot going 
 to the twelfth hole. I have not the slightest 
 doubt that he deliberately played that tee shot
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 227 
 
 to the left-hand side of the course, but when 
 he had hit it there seemed a grave doubt as to 
 whether he was not in the rough. As it hap- 
 pened, however, his ball was quite clear, and 
 taking advantage of this he played a beautiful 
 shot with some manner of wooden club, the ball 
 finishing within seven or eight feet of the hole. 
 My response was distinctly feeble, and it was 
 that second shot of his which went a very long 
 way to settle the match, for I candidly acknow- 
 ledge that the accuracy of that stroke had a serious 
 effect upon me at the time. Hutchinson did not 
 play at fall well against him in the penultimate 
 round. It may be that he was suffering from 
 the strain of the previous encounter against 
 Maxwell, or it may be that, like one or two 
 others, he was a little over anxious to beat the 
 stranger from the far-off land. Again, Black- 
 well never seemed to be playing a winning game 
 in the final. He certainly made a big effort 
 in the middle of the second round, and in 
 making it had the misfortune to run up against 
 some heart-breaking putting, but Travis was
 
 228 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES; 
 
 on top all the while, and to my mind never 
 looked like a loser. A great deal has been 
 made of Tr avis' s wonderful putting, and cer- 
 tainly it was of the sensational order on occa- 
 sions, but as he kept it up right through 
 the week it could not be classed in the cate- 
 gory of " flukiness." The greens were so beau- 
 tifully fine at Sandwich that they were all in 
 favour of the confident, determined putter, as 
 some of the professionals proved in the follow- 
 ing week. The fact is, Travis took every advan- 
 tage of the very favourable conditions. He had 
 already gauged the strength of the greens to a 
 nicety; all he had to do was to hit the ball 
 truly, and it must go near the hole. In con- 
 clusion, I am not one of those who .believe 
 that there was the slightest element of luck in 
 the success of Walter J. Travis at Sandwich in 
 1904. On the week's play he was the most 
 consistent golfer in the field, and if his opponents 
 did not play well against him there is a possi- 
 bility that this very consistency had a deleterious 
 effect on their play.
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 229 
 
 I always look upon the Open Championship 
 of 1904 as supplying the most sensational golf 
 in the history of that event. Certainly every- 
 thing was in favour of the players, and the 
 course was distinctly easier than when the 
 amateurs had been competing in the previous 
 week, as a great deal of the " rough " at 
 the sides of the course had been shorn ; still 
 it was phenomenal golf, as is evidenced by 
 the fact that there were no less than eight 
 scores of 72 or under handed in, and the 
 conditions of play on the first two days 
 were not of the most ideal description. The 
 pace on the last day was terrific. White 
 began with a 72, but Braid easily eclipsed 
 this with a 69, only to see this score beaten 
 later in the day by Taylor, who got round 
 in 68. Personally, I have always thought these 
 performances phenomenal. It was generally anti- 
 cipated that White, who was lying second to 
 Braid at the conclusion of the third round, 
 would break down in his final effort, and I 
 heard more than one person express opinions
 
 230 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 to this effect. This was mainly of course on the 
 score of temperament, as White has far from 
 an ideal one for the game of golf. But on this 
 occasion the critics were at fault, as except for a 
 little shakiness in his driving towards the con- 
 clusion of the round, Jack White always had 
 himself well under control. I was standing at 
 the ninth hole when White arrived there, and 
 found that he was out in 32 ; shortly after 
 that Braid arrived at the same point in 34. 
 He asked me one or two questions as to the 
 score of some of the players, but he did not 
 mention White's name at first, and I thought 
 he was going on without inquiring ; then just 
 before driving off he remarked, " How is Jack 
 White doing?" I answered, "Pretty well." 
 '"What's he out in?" "Thirty-two," I said. 
 That made Jimmy look very serious, and when 
 to a further query I replied that, as far as I 
 could gather, White had started home with three 
 fours, he looked more serious than ever. He 
 made a great effort to catch White, and the 
 way he played the fifteenth hole, when hard
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 231 
 
 pressed, was a treat to see. I think that most 
 players were very satisfied with a four to that 
 hole, but Braid actually got a three, played ab- 
 solutely perfectly. Braid might have tied with 
 White had he not been under an erroneous 
 opinion as to what he had to do ; he thought 
 that provided he holed the last hole in four 
 he would tie, with the result that he played 
 the hole carefully for the requisite four, hitting 
 his approach firmly past the hole, and taking 
 care to keep his approach putt dead. The 
 spectators, who were aware of his position, 
 could not understand why he did not hit the 
 approach putt sufficiently hard to reach the 
 hole. It afterwards appeared that Jimmy was 
 under the impression that a four would suffice 
 to tie with White, and he looked a sadly dis- 
 appointed man when he was told that nothing 
 over a three was of any avail to him, at least 
 as regards first position. 
 
 Whilst White and Braid were apparently 
 fighting out this duel, the majority seemed to 
 have forgotten all about Taylor, and considering
 
 232 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 that he had to accomplish a round of 67 in 
 order to tie, there seemed some justification 
 for the assumption that the championship was 
 over ; but Taylor came very near to accom- 
 plishing this colossal feat, as he only took 68, 
 and that without the aid of a particularly 
 brilliant finish. It was a wonderful effort and 
 quite typical of Taylor. 
 
 Where was Walter J. Travis in this cham- 
 pionship ? Well, to tell the truth, he failed to 
 qualify for the second day's play ; but those who 
 regard this fact as showing that there must 
 have been an element of flukiness in his win 
 during the previous week, are probably not 
 aware of the fact that the amateur champion 
 only competed under compulsion, and I am 
 certain from what I saw of his play that he 
 did not care a button whether he returned a 
 good score or not.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 Never stop trying. It is easy to give this 
 advice, but I know well that it is very diffi- 
 cult to follow, particularly when playing a medal 
 round. How many times it has been driven 
 home to me I should not like to say. Some- 
 times I have pulled an almost hopeless position 
 out of the fire by sticking to my guns and 
 trusting to the mistakes of others ; but on 
 other occasions I have thrown away excellent 
 chances of winning simply by taking some rub 
 of adverse fortune in a petulant spirit, and 
 playing in consequence a succession of holes in 
 a childish, casual manner. The Open Cham- 
 pionship of 1898 was one lesson to me, as it 
 conclusively proved that in such an event all is 
 not lost, even if you do take eight to a hole 
 only 160 yards in length. I kept myself well 
 
 233
 
 234 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 in hand that day, and in consequence I even- 
 tually found that, with six holes to play, no 
 player held a better position than I did at 
 that point. 
 
 In 1900 at Westward Ho, on the occasion 
 of the Easter meeting, I had a double experi- 
 ence of the advantages of playing right through 
 to the end of the round. In the first instance, 
 I threw away a most excellent chance of win- 
 ning the " Kashmir " Cup through becoming 
 disgusted with my score. When play began 
 there was a general opinion that two scores of 
 just over 80 would have to be returned to 
 stand any chance of success. But in arriving 
 at this conclusion the prophets had somewhat 
 under-estimated the difficulty of the putting 
 greens, many of which had been covered by 
 the tide, were in bad condition, and in con- 
 sequence proved much more difficult than any 
 one considered they would be. Going out I 
 did not make at all good weather of it, and 
 there was not much improvement for the first 
 few holes home. Then I met a man who
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 235 
 
 asked me how I was doing, and on telling 
 him, he remarked, " Young Humphrey Ellis has 
 got you all round the neck ; he has two fives 
 for 81." Promptly I began to slack, and even- 
 tually finished in 91. Great was my surprise 
 when I came in and found out that Ellis had 
 taken no less than eleven for the seventeenth, 
 and had finished in 87, and even so his was 
 the best card handed in. 
 
 In the afternoon round a mixture of bad luck 
 and indifferent judgment at the first hole cost 
 me an eight to that hole, and again I threw 
 up the sponge for a hole or two. Eventually 
 I lost to Mr. Horace Hutchinson by one stroke, 
 and I do not think that any one was more 
 surprised than he was winning with such a 
 score. Now I am certain that had I stuck to 
 my guns I could have saved a stroke or two, 
 and I feel assured that there must have been 
 several others in the field who could have 
 done likewise had they only realised the possi- 
 bility of such a high score winning. But 
 the player has no one to blame but himself.
 
 236 MY GOLFING EEMINISCENCES 
 
 The useless regret, " Oh, had I but known," is 
 of no avail. The chance has gone once and 
 for ever. 
 
 This little experience in the contest for the 
 "Kashmir" Cup proved a valuable lesson to me 
 later in the meeting. In the final day of the 
 meeting the scratch medal was open to visi- 
 tors. The beginning of my round was simply 
 appalling. The first six holes cost me no less 
 than ' thirty-three strokes, and when I pulled 
 my second shot to the seventh hole into a 
 wilderness of rushes the situation appeared ab- 
 solutely hopeless. When I found my ball it 
 was not in any individual bunch of rushes, but 
 there was only one way to play it, and that 
 was to hook it oif the toe of the club round 
 a clump of rushes. A dangerous shot, but it 
 had to be attempted, and I remember taking 
 great care over the stroke. As it so happened, 
 the shot came off, and I followed it up by run- 
 ning down a ten yard putt for a four. It was 
 one of those extraordinary recoveries which do 
 not come off more than once in twenty times.
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 237 
 
 From that point I could not do wrong, and I 
 eventually won the medal by one stroke. I 
 always remember that round principally on 
 account of the fact that my partner was Johnnie 
 Low, and by action and word of mouth he 
 taught me much of the philosophical patience 
 which is so necessary in the playing of the 
 game of golf. He himself came sadly to grief 
 at the same seventh hole, as he was unfor- 
 tunate enough to place his second right in the 
 heart of one of those clumps of rushes. How 
 many he played there I cannot remember, but 
 he played each succeeding shot more carefully 
 than the other. Then after these many shots 
 he considered the situation carefully, and con- 
 cluded by picking his ball up and quietly put- 
 ting it in his pocket. Not for one single 
 moment did he exhibit the slightest sign of 
 impatience or irritation, nor did he play his 
 final shots without due deliberation. It was 
 an object lesson in control which was not lost 
 upon one individual present. 
 
 Time after time has this lesson of control
 
 238 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 been driven home to me. To any player of 
 an impatient or highly strung nature it is a 
 difficult lesson to learn ; but year by year it 
 becomes easier to follow, for it is quite pos- 
 sible to school one's nature to a certain degree. 
 I know more than one player who owes his 
 success to the continuous schooling of an im- 
 patient temperament, and there is one profes- 
 sional, who has taken very high rank, who 
 would certainly have not held the position he 
 has done had he not realised the wisdom of 
 developing by degrees a measure of philosophy 
 quite foreign to his nature. 
 
 These two lessons I have quoted are far from 
 
 being the only ones taught me during my career, 
 
 but I mention them in this chapter as they 
 
 ' prove such excellent examples of giving up and 
 
 of holding on. 
 
 In the first case, one can see how easy it is 
 to throw a chance away by not trying hard 
 from start to finish, for one never knows that 
 the other competitors may not be doing equally 
 indifferently. The second instance is an excel-
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 239 
 
 lent one of the value of the principle, "Never 
 give up trying." By following it, you cannot 
 possibly lose anything, and you may gain. More 
 prizes and more matches have been thrown 
 away through childish, peevish irritability than 
 through any other cause. Watch the leading 
 professionals. Occasionally they may be guilty of 
 a slight lapse they are only human after ail- 
 but it is seldom that they do not play the round 
 through in the same careful manner, whether 
 they are doing well or doing badly. They have 
 learnt the valuable lesson of control, and learnt 
 it through many years of experience. If we 
 can learn a lesson from the professionals, so we 
 can from some of the amateur exponents of the 
 game, and I think that any one who saw Mr. 
 Travis win at Sandwich and Mr. Barry at Prest- 
 wick would on close observation appreciate the 
 full value of control.
 
 TIGHT CORNERS 
 
 IN a long golfing career every player must have 
 been in one or two very tight corners ; of course 
 the tightness of the corner depends much upon 
 the importance of the occasion. It may be that 
 many a first-class player has saved himself from 
 what looked like certain defeat by some tour 
 de force, or through some egregious blunder 
 on the part of his opponent, but these things 
 occur more often in friendly matches than in 
 the more serious events of the game. Well, 
 I have got out of one or two very tight corners 
 in private matches, but the worst I was ever in 
 occurred in a game of not a little importance. 
 It was in the Irish Championship at Portrush 
 in 1902 ; I was playing against Johnny Bramston, 
 and we were getting very near the end of the 
 competition, as the occasion was the penulti- 
 mate round. 
 
 240
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 241 
 
 To wander back a little, I may say that I had 
 no reason to rail at fortune in reaching that 
 round, as in the previous game I was two down 
 with only three to play, but won the last three 
 holes from my opponent, Harold Reade ; but there 
 was nothing ultra-sensational about the finish, as I 
 had the best of every one of the last three holes. 
 
 It was a different case against Johnnie Bram- 
 ston ; to be quite truthful, I was a little out- 
 played, and found myself two down with six 
 holes to play. I met further disaster at the 
 long thirteenth hole, as after my opponent had 
 played two indifferent shots I failed to find my 
 ball. Eventually it was found snugly resting in 
 a rabbit-hole. The ball had to be played where 
 it lay. This seemed a moral impossibility, so I 
 decided to carry it to the next tee. My feelings 
 were more those of sorrow than of anger. At the 
 fourteenth my approach was one of those which 
 are termed " out of the box," just about four feet 
 from the hole ; but more trouble was to come, as 
 my opponent laid me what appeared to be a dead 
 
 stymie. On inspection, however, I found that 
 
 Q
 
 242 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 the fall of the ground was very much in my 
 favour : so I played for this fall and the ball 
 just toppled into the hole. I had all the best 
 of the next hole, and was finally left with a four- 
 foot putt to win. I didn't do it. I absolutely 
 never went near it. This made me angry, and 
 my anger prompted me to have a go at the next 
 tee shot. I had driven the green against Reade, 
 and was going to have another attempt against 
 Bramston. And didn't I have a go. I nearly 
 dislocated my neck, and finished by hitting the 
 ball hard on the head. I was simply astounded, 
 as whatever my golfing faults may be, topping 
 is never one of them. I could not understand 
 it, and was left thinking in sorrowful wonder. 
 In the meanwhile I had not the faintest idea 
 where the ball had gone to. I simply knew 
 that it had careered along the ground. How- 
 ever I quickly received a rude awakening, as 
 a spectator audibly remarked, " Oh, he's hopeless, 
 he's in the gully, and Bramston has the whole 
 of Portrush to drive on to." This sounded 
 bad, as I had not noticed the gully before.
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 243 
 A respite came my way, however, as of all 
 the portions of Portrush he had to drive upon 
 he selected a dry river-bed on the right-hand 
 side of the course. It was one of those extra 
 careful shots which come to grief. I easily found 
 my ball, as it was lying right in the middle of 
 the gully, a very fortunate thing for me, for 
 had it been a little closer to the bank it would 
 have been almost an impossibility for me to 
 recover. After a good deal of thought I played 
 the shot and the ball scrambled out, but began 
 to roll back again, until eventually a kindly bunch 
 of grass arrested its progress. Then I had to play 
 two more. The stance was a most uncomfortable 
 one, one foot on a piece of ground in the clouds, 
 the other on a more lowly portion of Ireland, and 
 moreover I could not see the green. I brought 
 the shot off all right, but overran the green some 
 thirty yards. 
 
 Now came my adversary's turn. He played safe 
 and chipped his ball out sideways, then played 
 an approach on to the green, some eight yards 
 from the hole. When I came to look at my
 
 244 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 approach I found that I could not possibly lay 
 it dead, and had to rest content with leaving it 
 five or six yards from the hole. Bramston laid 
 his approach putt dead, and I was left with my 
 five or six yards to save the game. It was not 
 a nice one, as it was all round a corner. It was 
 neck or nothing ; however, it came off. Still the 
 state of the game was dormie two against me, 
 not a very happy position of affairs. To the 
 seventeenth a one-shot hole my tee shot was 
 far from good, but it cleared the bunker, and by 
 some miraculous means received a very favour- 
 able kick towards the hole. I was quite unaware 
 of this piece of good fortune until I arrived on 
 the green and found the ball quite close to the 
 pin. There was no time to inquire how the 
 .ball arrived there, as Johnnie Bramston had 
 played a very good shot, and the situation was 
 still serious. His approach putt was a dim- 
 cult one, and he did not gauge it very cleverly ; 
 result, he left himself a putt of some eight or 
 nine feet for a three. This putt he struck 
 as true as steel ; it seemed impossible that
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 245 
 
 it could remain out of the hole, but by some 
 miracle it did, and as I was dead in my second, 
 I still managed to keep the match alive. The 
 last hole was a curious one. The tee shots were 
 quite good, and lying side by side ; I had to 
 play first, and as I often do when I am nervous, 
 and I was nervous, I pulled my approach slightly. 
 My opponent made a much more serious mis- 
 take, as he snatched at his stroke and hit it 
 hard on the top ; but it gaily hopped over the 
 intervening bunker, and lay short of the green. 
 His third shot was well played, and lay about 
 two yards from the hole. The situation then 
 was this. Two men distinctly feeling the strain 
 one six yards from the hole, the other man 
 only two yards away. Man number one could 
 save the match by holing his six-yard putt, and 
 even if he missed there was a chance of man 
 number two not holing his two - yarder. Still 
 there were other things to consider, and one 
 big " other thing " was the fact that that last 
 green at Portrush is simplicity itself, in truth, 
 almost as true as a billiard table. Now man
 
 246 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 
 
 number one the author of this work knew 
 all about this, and came to the conclusion 
 that unless his six-yarder went down he was 
 lost. To hole a six-yard putt, even on the best 
 of greens, it is absolutely necessary to hit the 
 ball truly, and it is almost impossible to hit a 
 ball truly when, through the vagaries of the 
 nervous system, the club is waving about like 
 a ship in a gale. Could I keep that putter 
 steady not for any money. I kept addressing 
 the ball time after time, but the club head 
 would not come down quite where I wanted it 
 to, and in order to pull myself together, I had 
 recourse to the old subterfuge of ''once again 
 looking at the line." It was mere byplay, as 
 I knew all about the putt, all it wanted was to 
 hit the ball straight at the back of the hole. 
 Finally I struck a happy moment, down went 
 the putter right behind the ball, and it eventually 
 disappeared into the hole. The nineteenth hole 
 needs but little description. I cannot say that 
 I played it well, but my opponent obligingly 
 played it worse, and I won.
 
 MY GOLFING REMINISCENCES 247 
 
 After the finish of this match there were two 
 incidents which will ever remain engraved upon 
 my memory. The first was a remark by an 
 Irish golfer : " Well, you cannot have a nerve 
 in your body ; I never saw anything like it." 
 He little knew what I had been through, and 
 I didn't tell him. 
 
 The second was of a different nature. " Well, 
 young man, you do play about with my money ; 
 please don't do it again." You see he had paid 
 a very substantial sum for my chance in the 
 selling sweepstake, and his money had certainly 
 been in very great jeopardy ; indeed, in looking 
 back at that meeting I cannot help thinking 
 that he was just a trifle lucky. 
 
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