“Thank you for listening so carefully to that nice man and looking him in the eye when he spoke to you,” the mother murmured to her young daughter after the attendant had moved away. “That was very polite.”

“Mom,” the girl whispered, “this place makes you polite.”

Bovey Castle is the stunning new incarnation of a rural retreat first built in 1906 with the profits of a newspaper-distribution company. News agent W.H. Smith acquired the original land parcel in Devon, located on England’s southwest peninsula, between Cornwall to the west and Somerset to the east. Smith’s son, who came to be known by the bought-and-paid-for title of Viscount Hambledon, ordered the construction of a stone mansion he called Manor House, decorated in a variant of the Art Deco style.

Peter de Savary, the yachtsman and paradise-builder whose portfolio includes Skibo Castle, Carnegie Abbey, Cherokee Plantation and the Abaco Club on Winding Bay, would have appreciated the young girl’s remark. He relishes the notion that his creations might actually alter people’s ideas and attitudes.

One comes to think of his establishments as magic lamps that grant wishes. Little things, like irons and ironing boards, for example, aren’t provided in Bovey Castle guest rooms. If you want something ironed, call downstairs. Presently someone knocks on the door, disappears with the wrinkled garments and returns with them freshly pressed—no charge and no gratuity accepted.

The lanes, hedgerows and wooded bluffs of Dartmoor National Park are a naturalist’s paradise, and given its location within the 368-square-mile park—the largest and wildest area of open country in the south of England—Bovey’s emphasis on outdoor recreation is no surprise. Activities include sporting clays, archery and riding, all accompanied by personalized instruction on par with the level of service displayed inside the castle. Other “out there” opportunities include hiking, rock climbing, hang gliding, canoeing and fly-fishing along 24 miles of the Rivers Teign, Taw, Barle, Bovey and Bowden, plus three trout lakes.

J.F. Abercromby, the designer of the original, 1926 golf course, laid out nearly the entire front nine so those broad, clear rivers would snake along fairways and veer in front of landing areas. The course was beautifully renovated by Donald Steel and Tom Mackenzie and reopened in 2004. Holes range from quaint, like the par-4, 280-yard 14th, to quirky, like the attention-getting 374-yard 17th, which should be surveyed as fully as possible by any first-timer who finds himself playing down the right side of its adjacent hole, the par-4 16th..

Another testament to Bovey’s spontaneous wish-granting stood on exhibit as I putted for way more than a 3 on the 208-yard 3rd. High up on the steeply sloping castle lawns, a 30-yard sheet of heavy plastic had been unfurled and a member of the staff was dousing it with a hose. Yelping with pleasure, a contingent of 9-year-olds slid down the slick surface, twisting and rolling on the grass the rest of the way to the bottom. The old castle may make the kids polite, but it also encourages them to cut loose now and again.

Later, after hitting my approach to the 17th, I rang the big bell notifying anyone back on the tee that the landing area was clear. Having been absolutely alone on the back nine, I knew there was no functional reason to do so, but given the level of service we had enjoyed so far, I imagined it possible that a sound clang might have summoned some kind, uniformed soul from the castle kitchens with a tray of something—perhaps tea and scones with those excellent Devon blackberry preserves I found so delectable at breakfast.