A blether about some favourite medals

Most clubs have, if not an actual medal, a note in their minute book that shows that they once had a medal. For a long period – from the beginning of the nineteenth century to its end - the medal was a very popular form of trophy, far more popular than the cup.

When I use the word 'trophy' I mean that the medal was played for year after year, and did not ever become the property of a winner unless, for example, in terms of the donation he had won it three times in succession, in which case he won it 'outright'.

This philosophy could cause difficulty if the medal was meant to be played for in rinks, but even here there was a custom in some parts of the country of having a match at points, involving all the rink members, and the winner of the points carried off the medal as his own.

An early form of embellishment of the obverse, or front, of a medal was an engraving of a curler in the act of throwing, or having just thrown, a stone.

The first of my favourites is new to the collection, for it was a Christmas present from my wife in 2009. As can be seen from the photograph it is of modest size, a standard medal of the sort which could be bought blank in many a silversmith’s shop, and then engraved to suit its purpose, whether for a curling or a ploughing match, or a horticultural society.

Not too many were as elegantly engraved as this one. The curler delivering the stone is wearing not only a tall, silk hat but on his feet are crampets, the pronged devices much favoured in the south west to give a sure footing. This they did, but at the cost of mangling the ice. Our curler appears below a ribbon on which are the words: RAISED BY SUBSCRIPTION. The stone he has thrown is of the older-fashioned variety, single-soled; that is, with its handle permanently fixed to the top surface.

On the reverse are the words which show that the club which subscribed for the medal was that of Springholm in Kirkcudbrightshire. Sadly, although I have applied to some of the oldest and most knowledgeable curlers of that part of Scotland, such as Ramsay Lamont and Tom Rennie, I have been unable to find out anything about the history of this club.

The other medal is also old, and slightly larger. One can tell that it is old by the suspension, which consists of two, crossed brooms of early to mid-nineteenth century shape. My daughter noticed it in an antique emporium in Victoria Street, Edinburgh, long since replaced, as it happened, by my favourite curry restaurant, Khushi’s, sadly, also no more in that location for it burned down some months ago.

The medal to which my daughter drew my attention was blank on both sides; and so it remained for some time. As I found the blankness a bit displeasing, I decided to have the medal finished as it might have been more than a hundred years before.

What better motif for the obverse than a bearded, Tam-o-Shantered curler delivering a stone? I knew just the design: one of the water colours by R.M. Alexander, which belong to the Scottish Curling Museum Trust, fitted the bill exactly. And I knew just the man to do the engraving, John Grant, the superb heraldic engraver in Edinburgh.

I had an important birthday coming up; and I resolved that the beautifully engraved medal should be a present from me to me.

All that remained to do was compose the appropriate donation inscription: just within the rim:

DAVID BUCHANAN SMITH 31 OCTOBER 1996; and within that: GLACIEM AMAVIT ATQUE COTEM.

Quite a number of people have asked me from what Roman author the Latin quotation is taken. I have to confess that, Roman as it may look, it is entirely Scottish, made up by myself. It says: “He loved the ice and the stone.”

David B Smith.

The Grand Match of 2010 That Never Was

It was not without some justification that a journalist from The Observer in 1963 described curling’s largest outdoor bonspiel as 'sport’s greatest non-event'. When I wrote about Grand Matches in my Curling: An Illustrated History, published in 1981, I was able to say that since the first and second in 1847 and 1848 there had been only 33 outdoor Grand Matches.

Sad to say, the Grand Total as at January 10, 2010, remains the same.

There are good reasons why such a large event can’t happen with great frequency.

First, the climate of Scotland is not really designed to give us enough ice very often. It is interesting to record – against all the recent statements that SEVEN or EIGHT inches of ice are needed – a piece from The Glasgow Herald of January 17, 1855:

“THE ROYAL CALEDONIAN CURLING CLUB MATCH. – The secretary of the Royal Caledonian Curling Club had reported last night that he would have been able to make arrangements for the national match on Tuesday next, but the reports from Carsebreck rendered that impossible. Ice four inches thick is deemed necessary to sustain the weight of so large a concourse of persons as usually attend the match, and this thickness has not yet been attained…”

This year, however, it was not a lack of thickness of ice, - whether FOUR or SEVEN inches are requisite - it was a lack of polis and emergency personnel to deal with a major incursion of traffic on minor roads already under strain from snow and ice, and all the anticipated emergencies, that caused the abandonment of attempts to put on a grand match at the Lake of Menteith.

Against the 'health and safety' arguments it may be worth saying – and saying loudly – that my researches over many years have disclosed NO FATALITIES AT ALL during the 163 years of Grand Matches.

The second reason for infrequency is that there is a major difference between a proposed match of the present day and all the pre-War events, namely, that now all the participants and spectators would expect to arrive in their own motor vehicles, whereas hitherto the main mode of transport was the railway train. Carsebreck had a railway siding, which, though far from ideal, allowed large numbers of curlers to disembark with their stones from numbers of special trains. An influx of curlers and spectators arriving by road would have been impossible at Carsebreck, just as it has been judged to be impossible to cope with at the Lake of Menteith.

Carsebreck siding 1929. The RCCC pond is to the right. The access was not ideal!

Many a match in the past had to be cancelled after all the arrangements including the marking out of the rinks had been accomplished.

Even when they did take place it was sometimes with difficulty.

The Match of January 29, 1929, was such a one. The report in the Annual says: “The Grand Match at Carsebreck was pulled off…with difficulty and under adverse conditions. Indeed, had the thaw been of a little longer standing or a little more rapid, play would have been impossible. As it was, the Match was played in circumstances of considerable discomfort…” January 29 was the fourth date fixed in that month.

Below are two more surviving photographs of the 1929 Match which give some idea of the uncomfortable conditions.

The busy scene at the pond-side. The reflections give a clue to the conditions underfoot on the ice.

This must be after the Match. Curlers ready to depart.

David B Smith

Clarissa and the Wild Scotsmen

This photo was taken on Coodham Loch on January 3, 2010, as a number of enthusiasts were enjoying a great day curling on outside ice (photos here). David Smith is talking to local resident Katrina Tweedie, not herself a curler, but enjoying herself with her family skating on the loch.

The scene reminded me of a story David had written for the Hogliner daily magazine when the World Ladies Championship was held at Paisley's Lagoon Centre in 2005. Here's what he wrote:

"By the 1920s, when the following poem was composed, curling was very popular in Switzerland in all sorts of Alpine places, such as Chateau d’Oex, and Wengen and Kandersteg and St Moritz.

The game was as yet little played by the native Swiss but large numbers of Brits - English as well as Scots - spent a week or more in fine hotels enjoying outdoor curling in what was often clear, sunny weather. The après-curl was very important.

The poem and illustration are from a delightful little volume, Winter Sportings, by Reginald Arkell, published in 1929. Clarissa’s picture is by Lewis Baumer. Both convey the spirit of the times vividly.

The Girl Who Was Torn to Pieces by Wild Scotsmen

Clarissa - isn’t it a shame,
I can’t recall her other name,
I knew it once, but I forget -
Was just a modest violet
Who simply couldn’t stand a crowd.
She only asked to be allowed
To luge or bob or skate or ski
When no one else was there to see:
Avoided carnival and ball -
Was not gregarious at all.

Clarissa, one December day,
Had just arrived at Chateau d’Oex,
When she espied a sheet of ice
That looked particularly nice.
It’s surface was beyond compare,
No single skater skated there -
Clarissa didn’t stop to think,
She skated on the Curling Rink.

Oh me! Oh my! Oh us! Oh you!
There was a Bonspiel overdue,
And fifty lairds had taken pains
To polish up their granite stanes;
And fifty lairds were lurking round
The Curling Rink - that holy ground.

Beginners, please! The stage is set!
Clarissa lit a cigarette.
She puffed it gaily once or twice,
The threw it down upon the ice;
Waved to the Scotsmen standing by
And started in to do or die.

She died! In agony untold!
The dreadful details I withhold,
But, if you see a piece of ice,
That looks particularly nice,
Dear Reader, ere you start to skate,
Ponder upon Clarissa’s fate."

Needless to say, Katrina did not venture onto the curling rink last Sunday. Indeed her presence at Coodham was much appreciated by all the wild scotsmen present on the day - she heated up the lunchtime soup for us all. Thanks Katrina!

Aberdeen and curling

The forthcoming European Curling Championships at Aberdeen are my excuse for passing on some facts about the early history of the game in Aberdeen and the north east of Scotland.

The first interesting fact is that there is no early history of the game there. Although golf is well documented from the end of the sixteenth century we have to wait until the middle of the nineteenth for the first reference to a game of curling played in the city. In fact, when The Aberdeen Magazine of March 1831 reviewed Sir Richard Broun’s Memorabilia Curliana Mabenensia it is clear that the game was unknown.

“Curling is a game, of which, even in name, many of our readers are ignorant. The enthusiasm with which it is followed in the south of Scotland passes belief. It is not many years since the Magistrates of Edinburgh were wont to proceed to Duddingston, in all their official robes and insignia, with Town-drummers before and Town-serjeants behind, attended by the Highland bodies of the Town Guard, with Lochaber-axes, to witness the games. Some parts of the Inverury canal would do as well for a rink …

If they [the readers] have never seen a curling stone, we may tell them it is, for all the world, just like the Mechanics’ Institution in King Street, supposing it a little rounded off at the base and flattened at the top, and with the chimney bent at right-angles for a handle. Those used at Dumfries are like a sugar-loaf or a glass-house; some are of the shape of Dutch cheeses; and others of a sort of cheese, of which we do not know the name, oblong and higher than they are broad.

If it should ever be the intention of the gentlemen of Aberdeen to attempt this manly exercise, we recommend the book before us as containing all that need be known on the subject; it is full of animation, and being, as we believe, the work of one of the first curlers in Scotland, if nothing more, it must afford an interesting picture of a game practised in a remote district of the country, and quite unknown in England or Aberdeen.”

The Aberdeen Journal of 28 January 1878 prefaced a report of some district medal matches at Aboyne with these words: “Within the last few years this excellent winter game, which at one time was only heard of in the south, has become a very popular game in the north of Scotland, and almost every year a new club is being added to the list of those already in connection with the Royal Caledonian Curling Club, which has for its patron His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, its president the Earl of Breadalbane, and its vice-president the Earl of Glasgow. The Royal Caledonian Curling Club was established in the year 1838, the name of the founder being unknown. Since then there have been no fewer than 495 local clubs initiated into the Royal Caledonian Curling Club (three of which only are in the county of Aberdeen), and it still goes on increasing. The game is generally known as 'roaring game', a name derived from the amount of 'roaring' necessary on the part of the skips in giving directions to the players. It is the national game of Scotland, and one better adapted to the country could not have been devised. It is an excellent game in every respect. It is the best combination of sport, health-giving exercise, pleasurable excitement, and scientific play that has yet engaged the attention of the robust inhabitants of North Britain. Its popularity is then well-deserved.”

The writer quite clearly betrays his unfamiliarity with the game in attributing the 'roaring' of fits popular name to the shouts of the skips: we southerners know that it echoes the rumbling noise of a curling stone as it runs over water-borne ice.

The article then goes on to describe the matches played at Aboyne for four Royal Caledonian Curling Club district medals among the curling clubs of Fettercairn, instituted in 1852, Braemar in 1854, Aboyne in 1867, and Aberdeen in 1874. "All the games were well contested, and yielded a great amount of enjoyment and pleasurable excitement."

It may be of interest to see how the curlers travelled to their goal, Aboyne.

“The Braemar men arrived by first train for Aberdeen at eight o’clock. The Fettercairn were next to arrive, about nine o’clock, in an open brake, in which they had driven about 4 ½ hours from home; and the Aberdeen players arrived by the 9.30 train. All then proceeded to the ice, about half-a-mile from the station, with brooms in hand, each to put forth his skill in attempting to gain the medals.”

The writer of this piece was in error in so far as he seemed to suggest that curling was unknown in Aberdeen until the founding of the club in 1874, for The Aberdeen Journal of 10 January 1849 reported: “The frost which has prevailed during the week, more or less intense, has been taken advantage of by those of our citizens who can enjoy the healthful and exhilarating amusements of the ice. On a small sheet of water in the Old-town Links, the Curling Club have met on several days, - and some excellent and keenly contested ‘bonspiels’ have been played; while around them, bands of skaters, of all sizes, kept skimming along in every direction, with amazing dexterity and beauty of locomotion, and vieing with the wind in speed - the whole presenting a pleasing and animating scene. On Friday, a number of the Curlers, after a keen afternoon’s sport wound up, in characteristic manner, by partaking of ‘curlers’ fare’, in St Nicholas Hotel – among the first occasions of the kind on record in the annals of ‘our northern city cold’. This fine national game, hitherto little known here, is at present quite the rage in the south; it is enjoyed by all classes, and friendly contests of opposition Clubs are going on with great spirit.”

The Old-town Links, or King’s Links, lie between Old Aberdeen and the sea, and have provided ground for golf for the citizens of Aberdeen for more than five centuries.

David B Smith.

The illustration at the top of the page is a late seventeenth century view of Old Aberdeen, looking north. A small portion of the Old-town Links can be seen on the right edge of the woodcut. It is from Slezer's Theatrum Scotiae.

I am indebted to John Burnett for assistance in the preparation of this article. DBS

Curling's High Flyers

Last August I posted a piece about a game held high in the Bernese Alps in Switzerland but also deep within a glacier (see here). It was, of course, the famous game in the ice palace at the Jungfraujoch above Grindelwald, and it took place at 11,333 feet above sea level.

I suppose that these curlers, like the first conquerors of Mount Everest, did what they did 'because it was there'. When I proposed climbing yet another peak my children when they were little used to chant the song, “Daddy climbed over the mountain, daddy climbed over the mountain, daddy climbed over the mountain - to see what he could see. And what do you think he saw? And what do you think he saw? The other side of the mountain; the other side of the mountain; the other side of the mountain - was all that he could see.”

Mountains do seem to present a challenge to the human race and as curlers are part of the human race they sometimes accept the challenge.

The royal burgh of Stirling lies at the foot of that fine and picturesque but comparatively low range of mountains, the Ochil Hills. They seem to have offered a challenge to a 'knight of the broom', for on February 9, 1866, in the Stirling Journal there appeared this advertisement:

“Wanted seven swells who are game for a day’s curling on Demyat. Apply to Mr Moss, office of this paper. NB Donkeys can be got to carry up the stones.”

Demyat, or Dumyat, to use the modern spelling, is the highest point of the range, but it is only 1373ft or 418m in height above sea level. Sadly, neither history nor the Stirling Journal tells us whether the challenge was accepted. If it was, the curlers would have been able to enjoy one of the finest views in Lowland Scotland over the meanderings of the River Forth to far away Edinburgh.

About twenty years later some curlers in Lochaber at the foot of Ben Nevis, than which there is no higher point in these islands, again felt the challenge of the mountain. Their excuse was the lack of ice at sea level. This time, however, their exploits were fully recorded, and here is the report from the Glasgow Herald of, January 5, 1885.

“FORT-WILLIAM. –The Lochaber Curling Club had an excellent game on Saturday. The knights of the broom, getting impatient that there was no ice to play on the low ground, resolved to ascend to Lochan Meall-an-t-Suidhe 1850ft. above sea level. Accordingly, three horses were laden with curling stones and brooms. These were despatched at 8 A.M., and the curlers left at 9 A.M., arrived at the lake 10.30A.M., and found the ice excellent, of unknown thickness, and any strength. There was no snow on it, but slight snow fell during the game. Play was continued for four hours. The following were the rinks: - Married – D.Macniven (skip), D.Sinclair, T.A.Ainslie, John McCallum, 26; Single – C.Livingstone, (skip), E.Cameron, John Young, A.S. Macintyre, 22. A number of skaters followed the curlers. The whole party arrived at Fort-William at 6 P.M.”

Lochan Meall an t-Suidhe is well up the Ben Nevis massif. This must be the highest match ever played in Scotland.

Top photo shows Dumyat and the Ochil Hills viewed northeast from the Wallace Monument. Photo © Copyright Chuck Schubert and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence.

This is Lochan Meall an t-Suidhe, viewed from the path to Ben Nevis. Photo © Copyright Stephen Sweeney and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence.

Ben Nevis seen from the south. The tourist path can be seen, and Lochan Meall an t-Suidhe is in the notch on the left. Photo © Copyright Graham Scott and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence.

Partick Curling Club

Partick Curling Club's new two-rink pond was opened at the beginning of the 1900-01 season. More than one hundred years later, the tarmac is no longer in pristine condition. The fact that it still exists at all is quite amazing!

This plaque records the generosity of two of the Kennedy brothers.

The club house stands next to the pond on the north east corner of Victoria Park.

There's a plaque on the wall in the house which states, "This Clubhouse House was presented to Partick Curling Club by Provost William Kennedy 1902." William was the third of the Kennedy brothers.

Here, Peter Shill describes the famous Partick Bell trophy, on Doors Open Day in 2009.

The scrapbook records club activities in the latter years of the twentieth century, with photos of members on the ice at Crossmyloof, Aviemore, the Summit Centre and Letham Grange, all rinks that are no more! And of course there are many photos of curling on their own Victoria Park pond.

This is a photographic record of the Grand Match on the Lake of Menteith in 1979.

These stones, of an unusual red-brown metal, still bear red stickers indicating they were used at the 1979 Grand Match.

Rare examples of carrying cases of leather and canvas construction. Note the colourful pom poms used to identify stones when playing outside.

The second room of the club house is lined with wooden lockers for members' stones.

Crampets, or foot irons, sit above the lockers.

'Long John' Anderson was the club's president in 1843. It is recorded that he once curled for 36 hours non stop. The Royal Caledonian Curling Club Annual for 1899 has a different photo but the same stones at his feet, and says, "Mr Anderson relates to the writer the most eventful occasion in his curling career. This was when he spent, on one occasion, thirty six sonsecutive hours on the ice. He started at six o'clock in the morning with a few friends just to give them a game before they went to business at ten o'clock. When these departed a fresh lot turned out, who occupied the day until well on in the afternoon; and when darkness set in, and the players were about to depart, a contingent turned up from Govan (their pond having been leaking), and with the aid of a plentiful supply of candles, etc., they curled all through the night and all the following day till six at night, but added Mr Anderson, 'I was a young man then, being a bit under sixty'."

The club house had all modern conveniences!

And the pond had lighting to allow play in the evenings.

Photos are by Bob. We wish the Partick Curling Club every success in their efforts to secure the future of the pond and club house.

Curling's history celebrated in restored Thomson's Tower

Thomson's Tower, here seen from across Duddingston Loch, was built by the Duddingston Curling Society whose members first penned the rules of curling. It was their 'curling house' where they met and kept their stones. It was constructed in 1825.

The Tower is an octagonal building designed by William Henry Playfair (1789-1857), a famous Edinburgh architect. Duddingston Curling Society was one of the foremost societies of its time, having a membership of eminent men of the day including peers, baronets, judges, and lawyers. In 1804 the society drew up a Code of Laws by which play was to be regulated. These eventually formed the basis for the rules of curling.

The Tower is within Dr Neil's Garden. More on the history of the club and of the curling house is on the the website of Dr Neil's Garden Trust here.

The Tower was completely derelict until 1978 when it was re-roofed by the Duddingston Village Conservation Society, thanks to donations received from various sources, including Rotarian curlers from Canada.

Over the last two years, Dr Neil's Garden Trust has completely restored the Tower with grant aid from the Heritage Lottery Fund, the National Trust for Scotland and Historic Scotland. Ian Seath, pictured above, has been instrumental in making the project happen.

The restored building was officially opened on Friday, July 31, 2009. That story is here.

The walls of the curling room have colourful, accurate and informative story boards, such as this one. (Click to view larger size)

The centre of the room has a display case with a variety of treasures!

A number of stones are on display and can be examined closely.

Archive video footage can be watched, bringing curling's history to life. Of particular note, is a film of the 1935 Grand Match on Carsebreck.

Ian Seath with curling historian David B Smith at the official opening of the restored Thomson's Tower.

For details of when Thomson's Tower with the curling exhibit is open, see here. And there's a related history blog post about the Rev John Ramsay, a member of the Duddingston Curling Society, here.