At the time he commissioned the design of Beau Desert, the Marquess was
living in the ancient Hall at Beaudesert, a splendid country manor
dating to
1289. Known in 13th-century Latin deeds as “Bellum Desertum,”
or “beautiful wild
place,” the estate was later inhabited by all manner
of British peerage; it’s
even cited by name in Sir Walter Scott’s epic
poem, “The Lady of the Lake.”
The Pagets didn’t come into the Hall and its attendant properties
until
1549, when Sir William Paget acquired the estate from a
friend—King Henry VIII,
who threw in a baronet for good measure.
The historical serendipities
attached to this land and its
aristocratic governors would fill several chapters
of a book, and
indeed, already have: “Beau Desert: The Marquess of Anglesey’s
Course”
was published in 1992. Yet for all but six years of its storied
existence, Beau Desert has been a local club, played and administered
by local
golfers.
From the beginning, the Sixth Marquess extended play to a favored
group of area businessmen, most of whom worked for nearby mining
concerns.
“Permit Holders,” these commoners were called. When heavy
post-World War I tax
burdens forced Paget to abandon his estate in
1919, he first leased the course
to this group of proto-members, then
sold it to them outright in 1932.
Unlike
the Pagets’ great Hall, which was demolished for scrap during
the Depression,
the clubhouse at Beau Desert has always been a modest
affair, befitting its
middle-class membership (that’s British middle
class, mind you). Beau Desert
remains a low-key place, which along with
its distance from greater London
begins to explain why few Americans
have heard of, much less played, the
course.
There is also a working-class legacy at Beau Desert, a peculiar one
having to do with the fluid, physical characteristics of the golf
course itself.
Because it was laid out over an abandoned network of
coal mines, the ground
literally buckles and shifts as ancient shafts
slowly deteriorate and collapse.
The folks at Beau Desert refer to this
phenomenon as “subsidence.”
Some of
these transformations are subtle. Others are fairly
dramatic, such as the
lengthy four-foot depression that abruptly
positioned itself in the second
fairway a few years back. This ditch
was eventually filled in for safety reasons
by the National Coal Board,
“whose staff,” according to the club history, “are
regular visitors,
repairing subsidence damage as required by the terms of the
Deed of
Sale. … The hills and hollows on the greens seem to change from one year
to the next. Hardly a year has gone by without plans being made to
level at
least one.”
In 1974, British architect Fred Hawtree was consulted about
leveling
several of Beau Desert’s greens. To the members he wrote, “There are a
great many eccentric contours on greens which lead to approaches and
putts which
go beyond a spirit of adventure.”
Ultimately, few of Hawtree’s proposed
changes were implemented.
Apparently, club members shared a spirit of golfing
adventure that ran
deeper than Hawtree’s.