How the Elves Invented Golf
House-Elves are the innocent subjects of many of Men’s ridiculous tales. Since they do not understand us, Men in general feel free to write slanderous fictions about our origins, tell tall tales about our exploits, and in general impugn the ancient and honourable race of House-Elves.
Some of the most infamous lies that have been perpetrated for innumerable years concern the game of golf. Some say that it was invented by early cave-dwellers who, bored silly during the long, cold winters when they were shut up in their caves, took to knocking skulls about with sticks to amuse themselves. Some say that a race of early Men who lived in Africa and worshipped dung-beetles tried to emulate their venerated insects by rolling anything round, be it dung or not, into holes in the ground with dry tree-branches. By far, the most heinous tale is the legend amongst the Hobbits that they invented golf.
Many generations ago, the Shire produced a Hobbit of such size that he was able to ride a horse. His name was Bullroarer Took, and he was a great warrior, wielding a battle-axe and wooden club with equal fierceness.
The Hobbits boast that during the Battle of the Green Fields, which is not documented anywhere but is much mentioned in the Hobbits’ extensive folklore, Bullroarer was taken with the Berserker spirit. Roaring like his namesake, he charged the ranks of the attacking goblins and smote the King of the Goblins, named Golfimbul, upon the head with his wooden club. The head thereupon parted from the invader’s shoulders, sailed a hundred yards through the air and fell down a particularly deep rabbit-hole. The Hobbits would have us believe that this was how the Battle of the Green Fields was won, and at the same time the game of Golf was invented.*
It is simply not true. The Hobbits, for all you may have heard about their benevolent ways, were severe taskmasters to their servants. Their servants were the Riverfolk, our ancestors, in the days before Master Elrond laid our doom upon us. We were even made to accompany them to battles, to attend to weapons, prepare the mess and care for the wounded.
The Battle of the Green Fields was serious. Goblins were rapacious, and the Hobbits feared that if they did not remove this scourge from their land, they would lose the Shire and be homeless, that is, if they survived at all. There was not a Hobbit household that did not send its strong sons, fathers and brothers to fight, and their House-Elves went with them, of course.
It happened that some of the House-Elves from the Brandybuck clan were a scrappy lot who were fond of fighting amongst themselves as well as with any other House-Elves who opposed them. They were a great trouble to their master, Gormadoc, and his three sons, Madoc, Sadoc, and Marroc. Of course, they had a terrible example in their masters, who were always fighting and brawling, but the House-Elves were fierce, and they had made themselves weapons, sharpened wooden spears and clubs studded with sharply cut stones.
The Brandybuck Elves were most competitive. Who could eat the most sausages? Who could snap his fingers and disappear quickest? Who could invent the most ingenious pranks to plague the other two? It happened, then, that in the midst of the ferocious fighting of the Battle of the Green Fields, Maggot, the oldest, bragged, “I have killed ten goblins!” Piggle, the youngest, made a rude face at him. “You lie! I have killed twelve goblins!” Not to be outdone, the middle Elf, one Snaggle, shouted, “You both lie! I have killed more goblins than both of you together!” They were preparing to beat one another mercilessly, when an idea came to them: why not keep tally of the goblins as they slew them? That was more difficult than they had thought!
First they argued about how the tally should be kept. Snaggle thought he should keep the tally whilst the other two fought. Maggot and Piggle didn’t like that idea at all. They thought that they should convince another House-Elf who wasn’t fighting to keep the tally.
“No!” shouted Snaggle. “We can each keep our own totals! We will call out each conquest loudly, so the others can hear it!”
“Good idea!” “Yes, let’s do that!” Piggle and Maggot agreed, and they began to count coup. Piggle sneaked under one goblin’s arm and stuck him in the back, shouting, “One!” Maggot seized a goblin by the arm, threw him against a rock and bashed him over the head, shouting, “My One!”
And so it went for a little while, as the Elves tried to beat one another’s tally of dead goblins. The battle was winding down; all that was left of the enemy was the fearsome King of the Goblins with his monstrous sons about him. The Shire was faring badly; most of the Elves were busy dragging wounded Hobbits off the field, weeping for those that had been slain.
Maggot, Piggle and Snaggle had slain three goblins apiece and wounded many more, and they were exhausted. The foes that were left were far bigger and more experienced, no mere foot-soldiers they, but the Goblin King’s personal guard. The three House-Elves found themselves in the way more often than not, often shadowing the Hobbit fighters. Then, with a tremendous bellow, the huge Bullroarer Took came thundering into the fray – on a horse! He was the only Hobbit large enough to ride such a beast, and he charged straight at the Goblin King, his bullroarer whirling about his head. He flung the whip-like weapon straight at the King with such force that it struck his pockmarked head from his neck. At last! Piggle saw his coup: “FOUR!” he shouted, and as the head struck the ground, he gave it one solid whack with his rock-studded club and it rolled into a deep rabbit-hole, yammering all the way to the bottom.
All fighting stopped, and the victorious Piggle seized the Goblin King’s lance and stuck it next to the hole. The red flag on its end fluttered in the wind. “This is the end of King Golfimbul!” he cried. “Henceforth we shall remember how we slew the menace! Every year, on the anniversary of this day, we shall whack pockmarked balls with sticks until they fall down rabbit-holes, and if we do it in one go, we shall plant lances by the holes and count our coup by the flags!”
That is the true story of how the game of Golf came to be!
*Credits: The Hobbit, An Unexpected Party, Pg 18