In the world of golf, history carries weight. The older the club, the more prestige it commands. But what happens when that history becomes contested territory? Let's explore the fascinating battle for historical supremacy that unfolded among Britain's oldest golf clubs.
It all started in 1830 when Blackheath Golf Club fired the first shot. They approached the Edinburgh Almanac—Scotland's equivalent of Wikipedia, but far more researched—and asked it to state, for the record, that their club was founded before 1745. This bold move challenged Scottish golfing history, sending ripples through the established order.
The Scottish golf clubs, caught off guard, scrambled to respond. A flurry of founding dates emerged:
Both dates were well-documented, but neither reached back far enough to overtake Blackheath's audacious claim.
In 1834, the Burgess Golfing Society entered the fray, throwing out a claim of "around 1735." The evidence was almost nonexistent, yet the Edinburgh Almanac printed it anyway.
The earliest surviving meeting minutes from 1773 paint a picture of ageing members lamenting their own decline. The 1735 date likely originated from the family of Charles Rhind, a known member at that 1773 meeting—more folklore than fact. What historians do know for certain is that in 1735, it existed as a society, not a formal club.
The Honourable Company of Leith Golfers—later known as the Honourable Company of Edinburgh Golfers—initially stayed out of the conflict. Financial struggles had forced them to sell off assets. However, in 1839, revitalized and rebranded, they finally made their move.
Their official statement was measured but firm:
"The period at which the Company was formed cannot now be ascertained, but the first regular series of minutes... bears the date 1744."
With the gauntlet thrown down at 1744, the Edinburgh clubs had re-established their dominance. Blackheath, outmanoeuvred, quietly disappeared from the Edinburgh Almanac. The challenge was over, and the Scots had successfully reclaimed their golfing legacy.
This historical dispute reminds us that in golf, heritage matters—and sometimes, the battle for historical supremacy can be as strategic as the game itself.
Research: James Henderson
