Making a Tennis Court

In Short

Published in 1912 as part of the House & Garden Making Books series, this practical handbook guides suburban home-makers through the art of constructing, marking, and maintaining private tennis courts. Author George E. Walsh systematically lays out the technical specifications for dirt and grass surfaces, addressing site selection, natural and tile drainage, and landscape aesthetics. The book endures as a crisp, lucid slice of early twentieth-century leisure culture, offering timeless principles of site orientation and turf care that speak to anyone who values doing simple construction work well.

The Story

The text unfolds as a progressive, practical manual that moves from the historical ideal of tennis to the concrete work of shovel, level, and tape. Walsh begins by grounding the game in its regal heritage, tracing its path from medieval European ditches and the royal courts of Windsor down to Major Walter C. Wingfield’s 1874 modernization and its rapid spread across American estates. From this historical foundation, he establishes that a domestic court ought to serve a dual purpose: it must be a fast, playable surface and an artistic enhancement to the home’s broad terraces and gardens.

The narrative of construction begins with the crucial decision of placement. Walsh details how a court requires a clear space of 60 by 120 feet, aligned strictly north-to-south to save players from facing a blinding sun. He emphasizes open skies over light stucco backgrounds or tight ringings of trees, which cast morning shade and keep the surface damp. From site selection, the argument shifts to the choice of materials. Walsh surveys international experiments—ranging from Australia’s foot-punishing crushed bluestone and England’s dirty brick rubble to modern asphalt, concrete, and timber—before focusing on the two true standards: dirt and grass.

The core of the work walks the builder through step-by-step physical construction. For dirt courts, Walsh details deep excavation, a six-inch foundation of trap-rock or coarse gravel, sub-surface drain pipes, and a carefully proportioned top-dressing of clay and sand rolled until rain-proof. For grass courts, he explains how to carefully lift, store, and relay sod, or sow seed using scythes and rollers to build a soft, fragrant green.

After physical construction, Walsh turns to precise execution: using geometry to lay out 27-by-78-foot lines with two lengths of string, setting up wire backstops or disguising them with living screens of climbing roses and trellis, and installing anchor sockets and non-chafing canvas center straps. The final phase covers long-term care, prescribing a rigorous routine of dragging, evening rolling, morning mowing, and night-time watering. Walsh concludes by warning against heel-shod shoes and destructive worms, demonstrating that disciplined upkeep preserves a court indefinitely as a proud, enduring feature of the home.

How It Unfolds

The historical game modernized The text opens with the ancient origins of tennis, tracing its path from medieval castles and French hand-play to Major Wingfield’s hour-glass court and the standardized laws set by the Marylebone Cricket Club.

Choosing space, light, and drainage Walsh details how to select a site, insisting on a north-south alignment, clear skies overhead, and a natural sand-loam soil positioned safely away from light-colored buildings or water-trapping hollows.

Selecting the playing surface The handbook surveys global materials—rejecting hard bluestone, gritty cinders, soft asphalt, and glaring cement—to show why porous dirt and soft turf remain superior for home play.

Building from foundation to surface Detailed steps explain how to excavate a foot of earth, lay stone foundations and tile drains, and apply mixed top-dressings for dirt, or cut, level, and relay sod for grass.

Measuring the court with exactness Using a 39-foot and a 47-foot 5-inch string, Walsh demonstrates how to construct exact right-angled triangles to stake out single and double courts, add permanent markers, or plant dogtail grass lines.

Erecting screens and court fixtures Directions cover wire backstops, decorative stucco pergolas, living vine screens, canvas center straps, and anchor-socket posts to merge utility with landscape architecture.

Maintaining the court through daily discipline The book closes with maintenance rules: dragging dirt courts with frayed logs, watering turf at night, mowing in the morning, and eradicating weeds and earthworms to protect the investment.

The People

Because this is an instructional handbook, the human element appears through historical pioneers, the home-maker, and the active player.

• Major Walter C. Wingfield wants to adapt an old royal pastime into a accessible outdoor game; he patents the modernized version in 1874, establishing the early hour-glass court format.
• The Marylebone Cricket Club seeks uniform standards for a booming sport; in 1875 it formulates official rules, abandons the hour-glass shape, and sets standard court lengths and net heights.
• The Home-Maker and Builder aims to enhance a country estate with a functional court; faced with rocky soil, clay, or poor drainage, they must excavate, lay tile pipes, and maintain smooth turf.
• The Player wants an exhilarating, fair game without physical discomfort; bad drainage, poor backgrounds, or gritty surfaces stand in the way, leaving them satisfied only when playing on a well-aligned, perfectly leveled court.

In Its Own Voice

"Primarily the courts are laid out for practical use, but this should not interfere with their artistic development to make them attractive features of the garden."

Walsh introduces his guiding philosophy that a home court must balance rigorous athletic utility with the aesthetic landscape of the house.

"A court should never be located in a hollow where the surrounding land slopes from all directions toward it. No amount of artificial drainage could keep such a spot dry."

In discussing site selection, the text offers direct, practical warnings against common structural mistakes.

"Constant watchfulness and attention are the price we pay for the proper maintenance of a first-class tennis court."

Near the end, Walsh reminds the reader that long-term beauty and playability require steady, disciplined care.

What It's Really About

Underneath its practical technical advice, the book argues that home building is an art form where human labor brings order, beauty, and health out of raw land. Walsh views the domestic tennis court not merely as a sporting arena, but as a harmonious social center that connects domestic architecture to the natural world. He insists that proper design requires anticipating nature—working with the sun’s trajectory, managing heavy rainfall through layered drainage, and utilizing living plants like climbing roses and dogtail grass. Ultimately, the text champions a hands-on, methodical ethic: through foresight, careful geometry, and constant upkeep, an amateur builder can create a lasting feature of recreation and quiet rest.

Why Read It Today

Making a Tennis Court will delight historical DIY enthusiasts, landscape architecture fans, and sports historians seeking a glimpse into how suburban recreation was built from scratch in the early 1900s. Reading it feels like standing alongside a calm, knowledgeable craftsman on a sunlit plot of land, watching raw earth transform into a crisp, functional green through clear measurements and physical labor. Walsh’s language is direct, pragmatic, and refreshingly devoid of modern fluff, carrying an inviting vintage charm.

The book's minor difficulties stem from its period context: prices reflect 1912 costs (where a court might be built for $25 to $300), and some instructions presuppose manual labor, horse-drawn mowers, or simple farm materials rather than modern machinery. Yet what remains with the reader is Walsh's underlying philosophy—that building something enduring for one's home requires patience, attention to natural forces, and a commitment to daily care.