He was one of the first—
I think we might almost agree that
he was the first—to perceive the possibilities
of inland golf course construction
on the finer, grander system
that we know now. He saw the immense
golf boom that was coming,
the demand that there must inevitably
be for many, new inland courses
of a better and more interesting type
than were generally in existence then.
Up to then the manner of designing
and making a hole was to put a plain
straight bank across the course in
front to be driven over, this arrangement,
with a little sand in front of it,
being known as a bunker, and, if the
hole were long enough, there was a
similar contrivance set up immediately
in front of the putting green. Generally
nothing more was considered
necessary, though if some elaboration
was desired similar banks were stuck
up somewhere on the left or on the
right. None of these things were
beautiful to look upon, they gave no
character to the holes, this being supplied
only by such local natural features
as trees, watercourses and
ponds; they were not in the least interesting,
and they made most holes
look very much like each other. Nor
did they tend to the smallest improvement
in the game of any player. This
was Victorian golf architecture, the
standard for which was set by that
indefatigable master of it, Willie
Dunn, who made his professional
mark on multitudinous patches of
land in many parts of the country.
Willie Park perceived that there
would soon be a demand for something
very much better, and he set
himself to devise it, to give to inland
courses some of the attributes of
those at the seaside where the holes
were fashioned by Nature and
abounded in features and strong character.
With imagination and money
it could be done. This scheme marked
the beginning of the new principles in
course architecture that have since
revolutionized the whole of inland
golf, not merely in England, but in
parts of the continent of Europe, all
over the United States, Canada, and
everywhere. Huntercombe and Sunningdale
were Willie Park's first productions.
He was responsible for the
primary designs of the architecture of
the latter, a beautiful course cut out
of a wilderness of heather on some
high, rolling land in Berkshire. Mr.
Colt soon set himself to work on the
first designs when they had been applied,
and he has carried out vast improvements
on the original model, so
that Sunningdale, as we know it now,
the inland course that I still consider
as the best and most delightful to play
upon in the whole of Britain, is not
at all what it was at first. Still Willie
was in at the beginning with Sunningdale;
that is a lasting distinction.
But he was much more closely concerned
with Huntercombe, a fine
piece of land in Oxfordshire, very
high up on a spur of the Chiltern
Hills. In many respects the situation
of Huntercombe was ideal, and it attracted
great fame to itself, but it suffered
from lack of accessibility, a difficult
uphill motor-car journey having
to be made from the Henley station
six miles away. Also it was a long
time before a proper clubhouse could
be built, and the only accommodation
was in a local farmhouse which was
taken over for the purpose, and there
was trouble with the water supply.
These difficulties have been overcome
since then, but, unfortunately for
Willie who invested his money in the
undertaking, he had to bear the brunt
of them. However he laid out on
these hills at Huntercombe a glorious
course with greens that were wonderfully
spacious and splendid. The
bunkering was done with imagination
and ingenuity, and the holes had fine
character. Willie set himself, as a
particular labour of love, to copy old
"Pandy" at Musselburgh, with its
plateau green, and produced a really
fine copy—with improvements—making
many special journeys between
Huntercombe and Musselburgh for
the purpose. It was then, and it still
is, one of the best pleasures in golf to
play the game at this place, but financially
the venture did not then thrive.
Willie had £11,500 of his own money
in it, and it was mostly lost. But for
that, America would probably not
have had him now.
Henry Leach 1917