AS you’ll recall from your notes, recently I lamented that I couldn’t find many right-wing people for this series.

Then I remembered: Teddy Taylor. Teddy, what a boy. A likeable Tory. Imagine! But he was much loved across the political divide. Habitually, he described political opponents as “very nice”, which was, er, nice.

By the by, it was Sir Teddy to you. Not that anyone noticed. We didn’t even know his proper name, which was Edward MacMillan Taylor. Sir Edward MacMillan Taylor: much more dignified.

That said, Brian Wilson said calling him a cuddly name like Teddy was “like calling the hound of the Baskervilles ‘Rover’ ”. But his bark was worse than his bite, and he was still Wee Teddy to anyone taking even a casual interest in politics, particularly in 1970s Glasgow.

An ardent Eurosceptic and capital punishment supporter, he once called a heavy metal singer “a filthy pig”. In the mid-1980s, he reportedly said “Nelson Mandela should be shot”. 

It was in the  context of a joke, he explained, but all the same he added: “Unfortunately, I do still regard him as an ex-terrorist.” Later, he described his death as “very sad”.

Though he’d supported Enoch Powell on immigration, he regarded racist attitudes as “foul” and, during an appearance on Have I Got News For You, revealed he was a fan of reggae star Bob Marley, quoting the lyrics “Every little thing gonna be all right…” in his speeches.

Everything was all right when Teddy Taylor was born in Glasgow on April 18, 1937, to Minnie and Edward, a stockbroker’s clerk. At the High School of Glasgow, he organised a petition to have rugby replaced with football – good man – and took over the school’s debating society, leading to a notable rise in membership.

The write stuff
At the Yoonieversity of Glasgow, he studied economics and politics, and joined the then Scottish Unionist Party. His life then took a sordid turn when became a journalist at the Glasgow Herald, before finding redemption as a Glasgow Corporation cooncillor for proletarian Cathcart. He was 22.

All political careers begin with failure and, the previous year (1959), he’d stood unsuccessfully for the Conservatives in Glasgow Springburn at the General Election.

However, he won the Cathcart parliamentary seat in 1964, becoming, at 27, Baby of the House, an honour ruined five months later when 26-year-old Liberal David Steel arrived.

Taylor threw his toys out of the pram on issues such as Rhodesian sanctions (opposed), the aforementioned Steel’s abortion bill (opposed), and capital punishment (supported).

Short, stocky and bald, the pinstripe-suited Church of Scotland elder espoused traditional values, opposing Sunday trading and the legalisation of homosexual acts.

He joined the right-wing Monday Club, and campaigned against both the euro and metrication, while championing the interests of British fishermen. Throughout his career, he was hostile to the right-wing tradition of cruelty to animals and a fierce opponent of fox-hunting.

However, his other hardline views upset fellow Scottish Tories who, he complained, treated him like “a lesser form of pond life”. In 1969, after two all-nights sittings, he collapsed in the chamber. A stroke was suspected, but Taylor blamed “precious little food, too much coffee, too little proper sleep and too many blackcurrant eclairs”.

A happy sequel happened in hospital, where he renewed acquaintance with Sheila Duncan, a medical social worker whom he’d first met when he was eight. The following year, she became his wife, and they had three children.

Having served as an opposition MP until 1970, he became a Scottish Office minister in Prime Minister Edward Heath’s government, resigning in July 1971 when the UK shimmied into the European Economic Community.

Thatcher’s favour
WITH a strong personal following among the proles, he held on to Cathcart, one of only two Conservative seats in Glasgow in the 1970s, the other being swankier Hillhead. He was politically close to Margaret Thatcher, who made him Shadow Secretary of State for the Scotch, though only after others had turned down the honour.

At this time, the Conservatives were staunchly anti-devolution, as indeed was Taylor, even while warning Thatcher that the stance might endanger his marginal seat. As indeed it did. 

He lost Cathcart by 1,600 votes in the 1979 General Election. It was the party’s only loss across the UK.

Ironically, it’s thought that Taylor’s successful dissing of the SNP only swung more votes behind Labour. Despite his disappointment, Taylor typically praised victor John Maxton as a “fine man”.

A year later, Taylor was back in Parliament, winning a by-election for Southend East in yonder England. But by this time, in terms of Cabinet posts, his ship had sailed. 

Possibly, Thatcher resented that one UK loss. Possibly, she doubted he could handle the compromises of office. Possibly, she was aware of rumours that he’d leaked shadow cabinet matters to the press.

Incidentally, an insight into Thatcher’s schoolmarm-ish rule came when Teddy revealed she’d actually smacked him. Viz: “ … I brought up something about the abuses of the EEC, and she stretched out and got my hand and went like that [slap] and said: ‘Teddy, don’t you mention the EEC again!’ ”

In 1991, he was belted on the shoulders when he received a knighthood, and in 1999 was still mumping about devolution, averring that it would “all end up with a horrible constitutional shambles”. 

Well, yes, that was the whole point.

Teddy was a heavy smoker but, bizarrely, didn’t drink, having signed the teetotaller’s pledge when he was eight and of unsound mind.

In 1997, he tried to create a Tory Teetotal Club. Nobody joined. Three years later, he wanted all Palace of Westminster bars closed, claiming a “dry” House of Commons would never have voted to join the EEC.

During John Major’s government, he was one of the Maastricht Rebels and was temporarily expelled from the parliamentary party. 

He stood down at the 2005 General Election but campaigned for Leave in 2016’s Brexit referendum. After a short illness, Teddy Tayor died aged 80 at Southend University Hospital on September 20, 2017.

James Duddridge, who succeeded him as Conservative MP for Southend East, described him as a “colossus of UK politics” – no’ bad for a wee man – adding: “We campaigned together for Brexit and it is some comfort that before he passed he had seen the country come around to his way of thinking.”

Then Scottish Conservative leader Ruth Davidson said: “Even now, 40 years on, many local people will remember his fierce commitment and dedication to Glasgow.”

Robert McNeil is a prize-winning journalist, with awards including a works raffle, a Lucky Dip and a teddy bear at the community centre bingo.