A popular print may be found in the older Scottish golf clubs depicting a celebrated, ancient caddie by the name of William Gunn. He was sometimes referred to, rather unkindly, as Daft Willie, because of his decidedly curious sense of dress.

Caddie Willie, as he was more commonly known, had the distinction of carrying his wardrobe on his back, one suit on top of another: a sort of 18th century Johnny Fortycoats. So as to wear three or four coats at once, he had to remove the sleeves and, true to the uniform of the distinguished golfing fraternity of the time, the outer garment was invariably an old, red coat.

He also wore three or four vests of which the outer one was made of fur. The same applied to his trousers, while the three bonnets worn on his head were sewn one inside the other.

From a rented garret at Bruntsfield, he would offer his services to the members of the Royal Burgess Society. Appropriately, they were the owners of the original painting of Caddie Willie from which the later prints were made. But sadly, it was lost, never to be seen again, after being sent for exhibition to Glasgow in 1926.

We are told that Willie was renowned for his honesty, always paying on time for his rent and for the baps and milk which were the mainstay of his simple diet. But there was no money for a fire in his humble abode, not even in the depths of winter.

As a Highlander, whose first tongue was Gaelic, he could speak only imperfect English. And we are told that at the end of each golfing season he would tramp from Edinburgh back to his Highland home. In the autumn of 1820, however, he left Bruntsfield never to return. The image of Caddie Willie is some way removed from that of the French cadet from which the occupation got its name. It was the title given to a youth serving in the armed forces or at court and they generally took the role of page-boys, porters and bearers.

Some of them came to Edinburgh with Mary Queen of Scots when she returned after her years at the French court. It is believed that in a classic sequence of semantic change, the Scots adapted the meaning of cadet to apply to a hanger-on or an odd-job man or a porter. Eventually, the young boys who were employed to carry the golfers' clubs became known, in local parlance, as caddies, spelt, incidentally, with one d.

Though many of them would have been no more than humble bag-carriers, the more experienced of their fraternity would have been expected to select the correct clubs, tee-up the ball, attend the flagstick on the green, establish which way the wind was blowing and gauge the swing of a putt on decidedly uneven greens.

They were also required to be as silent as possible, though this didn't stop the more assertive of them from making their presence felt. Like the caddie in a famous moneymatch who felt that spectators were getting a little too close to the action for the comfort of the players.

So, without warning, he grabbed one of them by the ear, unaware that the man happened to be a respected magistrate. He then invited him to stick his nose into the hole so that he could actually feel the ball therein.

And, of course, there are the jokes which paint caddies in a similarly prominent light. Like the one about the struggling golfer who was becoming increasingly frustrated at the pathetic standard of his play.

Eventually, he felt there was nothing left other than to blame his mistakes on his hapless caddie. As the round ended, he turned to the man on the bag and declared: "You have to be the worst caddie in the entire world." Whereupon the caddie replied: "I don't think so, sir. That would be too much of a coincidence."

Despite these odd tales of caddie assertiveness, they were generally treated as menials, and paid accordingly. An entry in the minutes of Musselburgh GC (then a nine-hole course) on September 23rd, 1834 read: "It is resolved that the boys employed as Cadies shall be paid. For one round, threepence; and for two or more, twopence each round. An engagement for the day not to exceed one shilling. Golfers from other places will see the propriety of giving effect to this resolution."

All of which lends rich emphasis to the remarkable change which has taken place in their fortunes, especially in recent decades.

We recall the close friendship which developed between Arnold Palmer and the St Andrews caddie, Tip Anderson. And of Anderson's loyalty to the golfing Carrs, which saw him work for Joe on the occasion of his second British Amateur triumph at St Andrews in 1958. Then Tip caddied for Joe's son Roddy and eventually for another of his sons, John, when he reached the semi-finals of the Amateur at the same venue in 1981.

Then there was the bond which developed between Tom Watson and Alfie Fyles, the Lancashire caddie who, after guiding him to his first British Open success at Carnoustie in 1975, angrily threw back what he perceived to be a grossly inadequate cheque, saying: "You need this more than me." Caddies were no longer menials but respected figures in their own right.

Meanwhile, by way of emphasising the inter-dependence of caddie and "master", a special bonus payment system was introduced whereby the person on the bag generally received 10 per cent of the player's winnings. This had the effect of ensuring total commitment from the caddie to the pursuit of victory, thereby increasing the likelihood of yardages being spot-on and the correct club being recommended in critical situations.

We even reached the stage whereby the master could be fired by a disgruntled caddie, like in the celebrated case of Fanny Sunesson, who decided last November, after 10 lucrative years with Nick Faldo, that she had had enough. And because of her high profile within the game, it was felt that Sergio Garcia had no option other than to employ her as the best available. Which he did, only for the ill-fated partnership to break up four months later.

This year, New Zealander Steve Williams, who caddies for world number one Tiger Woods, will earn close on $1 million. Which is more money than all the inhabitants of 19th century caddieshacks could have ever imagined. Even more interesting is that the rewards have come to arguably the only worker in the game whose activities have remained largely unchanged for 300 years.