The Grounds: Lesson 6 - J.H. Taylor - Walker Simas
Welcome back to “The Grounds”, a series about the golf course architects of our past (and present) who were excellent players themselves. So far we have explored the life and work of Old Tom Morris, James Braid, Willie Park Jr., Charles Blair Macdonald, Herbert Leeds- now turning our focus to J.H. Taylor.
John Henry Taylor occupies a larger and more significant footprint in golf architecture than I had ever thought. Checking many of the boxes that our prior features did, he also created a few of his own. JHT was a figure that stood up to titans of the industry (Tillinghast), broke barriers (one of the first to really move dirt), and was probably the best player / architect combo of anyone we have seen so far in the series.
II. Early Years and Beginnings
JH was born into a working-class family in Devon, England. Think Westward Ho! - the southern tip just south of Wales. Taylor's childhood was defined by simplicity and resilience. This countryside is still made up of just a few small towns, leaving little to be imagined for how it looked in the 1870’s when he was just a boy. There, he was forced to adopt some heavy responsibility at an early age as his father passed when he was eleven. He quit school and began working to provide for what family he had left. By twelve, it was his responsibility to provide for his mother as best he could. A hellish start to life.
Naturally, caddying came into the mix early. He had already taken to golf due to his proximity to Royal North Devon (in Westward Ho! right next to where he grew up). Because that was not enough to get by, he was a day laborer and that became his early foundation.
It comes to no surprise that this upbringing produced the style of golf he would eventually build - a general respect for links golf with the skill set for human intervention.
Though competitive golf was not lucrative at the time, he figured his trajectory as a player might be a way through to a better life. During his early years he entered into a few amateur tournaments, won frequently, and continued to hone his game whenever he had the chance to.
JHT continued to surprise me mainly through the effort to write early in his life. Obviously having missed any education past the age of eleven, he took it upon himself to learn to read and write. I love a hustler - they’re usually born from necessity, but my effort to calculate the total output of this teenager left me respecting the man before we get into the architecture.
Is it right to call a teenager a man? In this case, yes.
III. Rise to Prominence as a Golfer
At nineteen, JHT turned professional. He made his money by working for a variety of clubs such as Burnham & Berrow, Royal Winchester and Royal Wimbledon. During this 5-7 year period his main duties were like many of our prior features in “The Grounds”- all encompassing. He had influence on maintenance and agronomy, worked events, in club operations, equipment sales, and teaching.
Before long, he had won his first Open Championship at the age of 23 (1894) - his first of five. The Open that year was held at Royal St. George’s and he was crowned first Englishmen to win a title. With that victory unlocked a new level of image and likeness that elevated him to new heights in the professional game.
Around 1899, he moved to Royal Mid-Surrey to continue working on his game and serving the club. He would only make one more formal move for the remainder of his life which would take place 47 years later.
IV. Transition and Contribution to Golf Course Architecture
Royal Mid-Surrey: The Outer Course (Evalu18)
Royal Mid-Surrey was the catalyst which forcibly collided his experiences in construction and golf. Moving there was the first step towards an eventual career in golf course architecture - a term that had been established but was still budding in significance.
One aspect about JH that I admire was his seriousness. It doesn’t come as a surprise that he inherited such a response, and it likely was the reason he was able to create such remarkable golf scores. He once said: “To try to play golf really well is far from being a joke, and lightheartedness of endeavor is a sure sign of eventual failure.” true to anyone with calluses from teeing it up for a score.
The reason I mention it is because it applies directly to his course design. Again starting from the very trenches, his adoption of agronomy and suggestions to the ground staff was both good for Royal Mid-Surrey, but also well-received by players good and bad. This was not the first time we have seen a former Open Champion instilling their knowledge on a local golf course, as many in this series did the same. It was the next steps that set JHT apart from the rest, in my book.
I battle with this because links land is by (my) definition perfect for golf, so the idea of tilling up ground doesn't make sense for where JH sat on Earth. Though it was not always links land he was digging up, I value his desire to move dirt around to create more interesting features because it had never been done before - not that way.
Royal Mid-Surrey is wildly flat. Unlike many other links courses in the vicinity, it truly had no real dune-like features for holes to work off of - no significant humps or bumps. JHT, along with greenkeeper Peter Lees (who had experience from another great course) played with the idea of securing horses and men to till up the land to create material to build with.
It wasn’t as if Taylor was giving the middle finger to the land he was given, though. I think of this in a similar way to the progress of our golf club/ball technology. In his time, JHT’s work could be perceived as Shadow Creek level human intervention similar to those who adopted the Titleist Pro-V1 in 2000. At the end of the day it's a different approach to the same problem, not illegal, and at the point of beginning, unclear if it will provide any advantage.
Royal Mid-Surrey
Clearly, though, it did. Today we spend many millions on course construction. Despite choosing to construct on unsuitable sites for golf compared to the sands of English beaches, we spend big to build. We spend big for an extra 2 mph ball-speed. Are we all wrong for that? Maybe, maybe not- but I can’t criticize JH Taylor for wanting to do something different.
When you see how quiet his routings are, it’s important to note that a “maximalist” in this phase still moved less dirt than the minimalists of the modern age. Dirt was not moved to make the routing work- it was moved to add texture. To me, it's authentic. JHT was a designer. If there were any doubts about his abilities, Herbert Fowler asked JHT to help with Walton Heath. This is a massive endorsement of merit because Fowler’s work was so well-liked. The work he (JHT) did at Mid-Surrey on the Outer course was revolutionary. People would come from all over just to experience it. It's described as extreme - the features there are used to weaken depth perception and push you into trouble as you chase a better angle. Simple clean strategy.
Purley Downs: Photographer: Charles Briscoe-Knight
V. Legacy and Perspectives
Taylor grew up in golf thanks to public access. Into his career as a course architect (designer), that was always a priority. His achievements in competition speak for themselves, and his risky approach to features in design paid off in a big way.
There is speculation on who first built the “alpinization” features- Tillinghast was producing similar work in the US at the time. James Braid, Willie Park Jr. the same. So the bid for JHT is not that he invented this concept, though he might have. There is no proof that he stole the idea from Tillinghast or the others, so we can settle on the conclusion that “aplinization” - the tilling of ground to create features was at the very least a new idea for which he had no example to emulate, especially during WW1.
I find myself less captured by the (at the time) new expense of tilling and moving dirt around BECAUSE Taylor’s purpose here was to use this undulation to reduce bunkers. This was the big discovery that changed my skeptical view to one of admiration for his out-of-the-box thinking. We would see this later down the road with Pete Dye, who made a career off of using mounding to throw off a golfer's depth perception.
At the time and still true today, grassy mounds are simply more sustainable from a maintenance standpoint. For a man who was unwilling to compromise on strategic quality and saw all others going low, he chose to build up high. He did all of this without disturbing the natural features of the land itself - a rule we frequently break today.
VI. Conclusion
Ipswich Golf Club: Designed by James Braid, contracted to J.H. Taylor
Understanding the connection between player-architects, those who have excelled both as golfers and as course designers, reveals a deeper insight into the game. J.H. Taylor exemplifies this connection. His journey from a caddie in Devon to a five-time Open Champion and influential golf course architect underscores a career rooted in both playing and shaping the game.
Taylor's approach to golf course design was unique among his peers. He was one of the first to actively modify the natural landscape, moving dirt to create artificial features that enhanced both strategy and aesthetics. This innovative technique, demonstrated at Royal Mid-Surrey, involved creating undulations and mounds on flat terrain, reducing the need for numerous bunkers and introducing new strategic elements. Such methods were forward-thinking and showcased his willingness to push the boundaries of traditional golf course design.
His ability to blend strategic elements with aesthetic appeal in his designs left a lasting mark on the golf architecture landscape. Moreover, Taylor's emphasis on public access and sustainability set him apart. He was committed to making golf more accessible, designing courses that could be enjoyed by a broad audience while ensuring they were easy to maintain. His work prefigured the modern revival of sustainability and inclusivity in golf course design.
As a player, he made his own way by winning five Open Championships. As an architect, he brought innovation and a fresh perspective to course design, influencing many who followed. That particular blend of playing experience and design ingenuity made him a pivotal figure in golf history and worthy of a spot on this list. We can firmly call him the most underrated player architect on the list thus far.