A CADDIE AT WESTWARD HO!
by J.H. TAYLOR
from Golf My Lifes Work 1943
WHENEVER A GOLF COURSE IS LAID DOWN IT BRINGS IN ITS WAKE A CERTAIN AMOUNT of prosperity to the district, and especially to the younger members of the community. It can be imagined what it meant to Westward Ho! in the vear 1857 in that remote corner of Devon. The establishment of a golf links there, at that early date, is in itself a romantic episode. The story has been told so many times it has become almost legendary as part of English golfing history that it requires no recapitulation bv me. But that it was a most fortunate combination of circumstances the historv of Westward Ho! since that time bears eloquent testimomy. Indeed, it maybe also true to say that had the golf links not been made there, Westward Ho! would have remained a somewhat insignificant and remote spot well off the beaten track despite its safe bathing, glorious sands and unique Pebble Ridge. The coming of the links saved the place from possessing only these not inconsiderable attractions. I doubt whether Charles Kingsley's celebrated and romantic novl, Westward Ho!, would have done the trick of putting the place in the category it is today had not the links greatly helped its fame and probably enhanced its sales and well-deserved popularity. The novel gave it the name, but the links established its fame as one of the most natural and testing seaside golfing adventures in the country. With its delightful springy turf, sun kissed, and nurtured for centuries by the soft breezes off the Atlantic, and its natural hazards, it remained for many years unchallenged and unchallengeable in the problems that it set.
I have said that a golf course brings many advantages to the younger folks, affording them a diversion from the ordinary routine and outlook. This has proved true during the last few decades, so it can be imagined how true it was in 1857. Here was something entirely new in thought and conception which inspired not only the young but the older folk as well, something that was gratuitous, adding very materially to the struggle for a livelihood that ordinary agricultural work could not furnish. Here was something beyond the ambition of driving a straight furrow,, scaring birds or spreading muck, that gave the opportunity of earning occasionallv some easy money and additional recreation. In short, the coming of golf changed the outlook for the very poor, and in the early Victorian years, how badly this was needed!
It will be seen that golf was established at Westward Ho! as a flourishing local amenity some \ears before I was born, so it is true to say at I grew up surrounded bv its healthy atmosphere. I do not know how old I was before I became aware of the fact, but as soon as I became aware of any thing, golf had entered into my life. At school I became dimly conscious that sorne of the older boys -,were known as "half timers" and allowed the afternoon off to carry clubs if a job could be found. I envied the privilege, hoping in a year or so to join the ranks of the more fortunate, but, at the moment, had to he content with Saturdays and holidays, of which I made full use. Ever a hour of my spare time I scurried to the links in the hope that some accommodating golfer would take me on. I was a small delicate boy - with almost snow-white hair, which gained for me the nickname of Wig. I was not very pushful and hated the thought of being clamorous and insistent, with the result that others less scrupulous got the jobs to my intense mortification. There were no caddie rotas in those davs. Each had to get his job by, quickness of running, and I was no sprinter. The procedure was this. Hanging around the little tin hut which served as club house, situated some distance back from the present second hole, hard by the Pebble Ridge, We would espy a figure which we hoped was a golfer, and away the whole herd would scamper, and the first boy to get there secured the post. Many and many a time I joined in the race, my thin legs working like a semaphore, and infantile feet bouncing off the ground like hail off a tin roof, my heart palpitating ready to burst, only to see my speedier companions get home first. It vas my first experience of realizing that the poet was wrong when he declared that "The race is not always to the swift," a line that in later vears I became fond of quoting. Another disability I suffered was shortness of sight, a fact that my unscrupulous companions did not hesitate to use when, as occasionally happened, I won the race. For spotting the ball vas rightly considered to be the prime attribute of agood caddie. It will, therefore, be gathered that, all things considered, I was a poor specimen of humanity and this knowledge did not add to my confidence.
However, sooner or later, I was bound to get my first caddie job, and late one Saturday afternoon it occurred. I caught a real Tartar. Major Hopkins ,vas a delightful Irishman vhose genial qualities were overshadowed bv extreme irascibility, particularly when playing; and I now suspect that I got the job because this weakness was we11 known to the rest of the caddies. The major was an artist of more than local repute he painted the picture The First Tee at Westward Ho! in 1874 [actually The Tee.Shot, in 1877] vhich depicts a group of players and some of the early pioneers. A copv I am proud to possess, and the original can be seen in the clubhouse at Westward Ho!. True to the military code, the major was a strict disciplinarian, the severity of which he exercised upon his unfortunate caddie. If he dared move or make am sign of animation whatsoever, the major's wrath poured out like a cataract and the unfortunate boy became petrified with terror. While the major was putting, one scarcely dared to breathe lest the delicate operation of inserting the ball into the hole should be jeopardized. He was the author of that perhaps excusable remark which has become classic: "How the hell can voy putt when vour bloody boy is sniffling his nose off behind you" But justice must be paid to the major. He knew- the caddie's duties in all their perplexities and took pains to impart and explain them. Teeing the ball with sand was a fine art and nothing less than well-obscured and dainty erection would Suit him. I remember with gratitude the major going down on bcndcd knee to show how it was done and itwas a lesson I never forgot. Which reminds me of another sand-tee storv. A bov who had never carried before, when called upon to tee the ball, splashed a heap of sand down and pressed it hard downn into its middle depth. Calmly viewing the untoward proceeding from above, the master adjusted his monocle, and in a soft voice said, "Please give me the niblick, boy" an implied reproof which I fear was lost on the offender. That afternoon I was to learn that my short sight was a definite handicap. We lost a ball among the thick rushes and that was a disgrace which the major would not pardon or condone, and for which I was fined threepence. Although harsh, it may have been salutarv, and as the result of mr afternoon's hard work trudging round the four and a half miles, with a bundle Of Clubs under my arm, I earned half of the statutory fee of sixpence per round. It was the first money I ever earned at golf and when I reached home and gave it to an astonished mother, the pleasure of that moment was something that I never recaptured. Years afterwards, I reminded the major of the incident and got in reply: "Well, Taylor, me bhoy, it did ye good," the truth of which met with my approval.