Melvyn's further reply is again interesting, but Melvyn focuses almost exclusively on links courses and on courses built before 1890. Here are his mentions: Prestwick 1851, Earlsferry 1858, Royal North Devon (Westward Ho), St Andrews Old Course from 1865-1880’s, Leven 1865, Lundin 1865, Forfar 1871, Carnoustie 1873, Royal Dornoch 1886, Montrose 1885 & 1888 Kinghorn 1887. Then what about Royal County Down and Portrush 1889.
But where are the examples of any of the golden age guys bashing these courses? I can't think if many who were. To the contrary, these courses were roundly praised as exemplars of what golf should be. Far from rejecting these courses, the golden age was attempting to RETURN golf to its roots. Thus the best hole surveys. Thus the model holes and supposed "templates." Thus the effusive praise for the old course and other courses. Thus the Old Course, Prestwick, and North Berwick were often held up as models of what a golf course should be.
Inexplicably, Melvyn seems intent on treating criticism of a largely inland phenomenon as if it were undue criticism of his beloved links courses. But the courses listed were never considered "rectangular rampart courses! Those courses were reportedly inland, and a product of the golf boom of approximately the last decade of the 19th century. Reportedly, many hundreds of courses were built in inland England during the last decade of the 20th century. Melvyn ignores this and instead focuses on the links courses, as if the criticism of some inland course featuring "rectangular ramparts" was equally meant to be criticism of The Old Course or Prestwick!
Here is an example of what one "Golden Age" architect thought of the courses Melvyn listed; excerpts from an article written by Charles Blair Macdonald in Outing Magazine in 1906, after he had returned from an extended visit to the great courses of the British Isles and France in preparation for his creation of NGLA.
DURING the past few months I have listened to many heated and intelligent discussions as to the merits pro and con of the various great golfing greens, as well as to the merits of particular holes.
It seems to me the disputants were not so far apart as the heat of the argument might imply. The differences were more apparent than real. The basic principles they were together on. It was only when they came to "splitting hairs" that the fun began—a certain pot bunker or a certain hummock was alleged to be in the wrong place, or this or that hole was a few yards too short or too long—otherwise the hole was perfect. Further, it appeared to me that the combatants always pleaded for the hole they were most familiar with. Finally, I became convinced that any hole warranting warm or acrimonious discussion over a term of years must be "worth while," otherwise it would have been consigned to oblivion with less comment.
So far as I have been able to determine, no one course has the consensus of opinion as being preeminently the best. All agree generically on seaside courses. Undoubtedly St. Andrews has the greater number of advocates as being the Queen of Golf Links, though that greatest of golfers of the past decade, Vardon, decries St. Andrews as unfair; but then, Vardon has never been successful there.
Mr. J. L. Low somewhere says that most courses are too physical and mathematical, while only the best introduces as well the philosophical and strategical element. Doubtless there are many professionals who do not appreciate the subtle aspect of golf, and do not care for that which is temperamental in the game.
After St. Andrews, I think that Prestwick ran for second place, the chief criticism of Prestwick being the lack of length and number of blind holes.
After the above two courses opinion seemed to be pretty evenly divided between No. Berwick, Machrihanish, Westward Ho, Deal, Hoylake, Littleston, Brancaster and Sandwich. Each had its champions. I found it very popular to abuse Sandwich—surely there is no better soil or turf or more attractive undulations on any green—the fundamentals of a good golf course. True, the holes are too short, especially the first nine, the putting greens much too large, with no variety of hazard calling for accurate approaching; and besides all this, the majority of the holes are blind—a sad fault. I was told that the Royal St. Georges Green Committee were at loggerheads; it is to be hoped that they will soon agree, and make Sandwich what it has all the natural advantages of being, second to no course.
Hoylake was a disappointment to me. Twenty to thirty years ago I think the course, though shorter, was much better. The greens were infinitely finer, and the bent rushes and side hazards prevented playing "all over the lot." To-day the course is mediocre from the point of view of being a championship green—nothing exceptionally fine, nothing brilliant, nothing very bad; fair length of hole, fair putting greens, reasonable hazards, and the green generally appeared to me to be verging more toward an inland than a seaside course. I think Fornby has the possibilities of becoming a better course.
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Studying the above qualities in detail, there can be but one opinion as to the nature of the soil the course should be built upon, as well as the contour of the surface of the green, running as this should in more or less gentle undulations as at St. Andrews, breaking in hillocks in a few places, more or less bold in certain parts as at Sandwich and No. Berwick. The three courses above mentioned fulfill the ideal in this respect. There can be no really first-class golf course without such material to work upon. Securing such a course is really more than half the battle
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The courses of Great Britain abound in classic and notable holes, and one has only to study them and adopt their best and boldest features. Yet in most of the best holes there is always some little room for improvement.
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The eleventh hole at St. Andrews, which four out of five golfers (a greater consensus of opinion than I have found regarding any other hole) concede to be if not the best, second to no short hole in existence, is berated vigorously by some able exponents of the game. At the last championship meeting at Hoylake, Mr. H. H. Hilton told me it would be a good hole if a cross bunker was put in and Strath closed. Heaven forbid!
To my mind, an ideal course should have at least six bold bunkers like the Alps at Prestwick, the ninth at Brancaster, Sahara or Maiden (I only approve of the Maiden as a bunker, not a hole) at Sandwich, and the sixteenth at Littleston. Such bold bunkers should be at the end of a two-shot hole or a very long carry from the tee.
Further, I believe the course would be improved by opening the fair green to one side or the other, giving short or timid players an opportunity to play around the hazard if so desired, but, of course, properly penalized by loss of distance for so playing.
Other than these bold bunkers I should have no hazards stretching directly across the course.
Let the hazard be in the center or to either side or graduated in distance from the hole across the course. A very great number should be pot bunkers, particularly to the side; bunkers in which one can take a full shot with a wooden club are a travesty—some such bunkers as they have at Sunningdale.
A burn is a most excellent hazard and is utilized with the greatest advantage at Prestwick and Leven.
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The tendency to widen courses is much to be lamented. Forty-five to sixty yards is plenty wide enough. This is wider than St. Andrews used to be thirty years ago, when the course was better than it is now. I note that Mr. Deally, Mr. Lucas and Mr. Charles Hutchins in laying out the new course (that last word in golf) at Sandwich have kept a width of rather under than over fifty yards.
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Before closing I wish to enumerate a few defects which unavoidably exist on some really good courses:
More than three blind holes are a defect and they should be at the end of a fine long shot only. Hills are a detriment. Mountain climbing is a sport in itself and has no place on a golf course. Trees in the course are a serious defect, and even when in close proximity prove a detriment. Out of bounds should be avoided if possible. Cops are an abomination. Glaring artificiality of any kind detracts from the fascination of the game.
Maconald discusses many of the same courses as does Melvyn, but far from rejecting these courses, Macdonald is turning to these courses to determine what golf architecture should be. In the same article he lists out his eighteen ideal golf holes that ought to be used as models for golf designers, and with one exception (the Biarritz) they all stem from the seaside links courses. There are critical comments here and there, but for the most part Macdonald was looking to them as his model.
So far as I can tell, Melvyn just doesn't seem to want to understand this aspect of the supposed "golden age." It was at its core a renaissance. It rejected the inland "rectangular rampart" school but did so in the name of returning to the game's roots.