Monuments to Exclusion: From Little Ireland to Birkdale Common

The recent work at Birkdale Common, fencing off public land and clearing biodiversity for a practice range, is being sold as 'progress' for a world event location.

But for those of us with roots in the old Irish settlement of 'Little Ireland' in Marshside, the sight of a new 6ft fence is a chilling historical rhyme. It is not just about golf; it is about the recurring cleansing of the public from their own coastline to serve a private elite.

Above: The alleged "Eyesore" that Built a Community.

Little Ireland, Marshside, seen here before the authorities destroyed the community. To the Victorian elite of the Hesketh Golf Club, these cottages were a ‘wretched disfigurement’ of the dunes. To the 47 families of cockle-pickers and fishermen who lived in them, they were a vital sanctuary from the Great Famine. Shortly after this photo was taken, these family homes were burned and flattened to expand a private golf club's aims. Today, only the schoolhouse remains, repurposed as the club’s greenkeeper’s lodge. 

These "sandgrounders" were vibrant enough to support their own school, St. Patrick’s. Yet, because this settlement sat exactly where the Hesketh Golf Club wished to expand, the Victorian elite branded it an eyesore. The families of this Irish colony was systematically evicted, and their land was absorbed into the fairways.This was a  literal monument to the elite’s victory over the common people.

 

The 1893 Order: The magistrates granted the eviction specifically because the land was deemed "required for the improvement of the Hesketh Golf Club."

When the elite want your land, they first attack your dignity. In 1893, they called Little Ireland ‘unsanitary’ to justify the first wave of evictions. In 1902, they called it an ‘eyesore’ to justify the final fire. Today, they call Birkdale Common ‘scrubland’ to justify a 6ft permanent fence.

Ethnic Cleansing for the elite 

Charles Hesketh Bibby-Hesketh, the landlord, effectively sealed the fate of Little Ireland's residents by refusing to invest in the required repairs. By opting 'not' to upgrade the properties, he allowed the council to proceed with demolition, which ultimately freed up his land for more 'profitable' use. 

Social Hostility: The nearby Hesketh Golf Club was a major driver for the clearance. Club members and local elites viewed the Irish residents as "ruffians" and "undesirables" who interfered with their leisure activities. The unwanted presence of the Little Ireland community was seen as an obstacle to the seaside resort's ambitions. 

Victory over the unwanted ones 

Immediately after the clearance, the land was absorbed into the Hesketh Golf Club links, effectively turning a site of human habitation into a private playground for the wealthy.

My family’s history proves that the defamatory labels utilised against the 'unwanted ones' are never about health or aesthetics, they are about Enclosure. They branded a community of fishermen as ‘wretched’ so they could play golf on their graves. When Sefton Council uses the same language today, they are simply repeating a century-old slur to hide a modern-day land grab ruse!

The ultimate irony lies in the sacrifice that followed. While the establishment was clearing my family's settlement for the golfing elite, my grandfather went on to fight and die in World War I. He gave his life for a 'King and Country' that, only years prior, had deemed his family's home less important than a golf bunker.




Above: Private Patrick Regan. Born in Little Ireland, 1890. Witnessed his home burned in 1902. Died in Salonica, 21 May 1917. Service Number 13560.

My Grandfather survived the state-sanctioned 'cleansing' of his childhood home in the Southport dunes, only to die for the same state exactly fifteen years later.

The photo above shows him surrounded by nurses (he's the nearest soldier in the picture) in a hospital bed in Greece.  He was injured after being trapped on barbed wire at the Doiran front.

While he was dying as a soldier of the 14th King’s Liverpool Regiment, the town's elite back home were already playing golf on the ruins of his birthplace. 

When I see the new fences at Birkdale Common today, I see the same monument to exclusion that has been erasing families like mine since 1902.

The Connection to Little Ireland (1890–1902)

Grandad was born in 1890 in the Irish settlement of Little Ireland, just as the Hesketh Golf Club was beginning its expansion into the Marshside dunes.

In 1902, when he was just a boy, the state-sanctioned destruction of his community took place. The settlement was flattened specifically to "improve" the area for the golf club. 

Ironically, the very establishment that burned his home in 1902 called upon him to sacrifice himself to defend it in 1914. He served with the 14th (Service) Battalion, a unit of "blue-collar" men who gave their lives for a country. 

Today, the only ghost of that community is the original school building, pointedly repurposed as the club’s greenkeeper’s lodge, a literal monument to private dominion over a displaced people.

The academic parallels are striking.

Historically, Enclosure was justified as improvement, just as Sefton Council now cites the £200m+ economic benefit of The Open Championship to justify the permanent loss of public common land.

Whether it is 1890 or 2026, the theme remains: a wealthy minority pays for the privilege of exclusive access to land that belongs to the community.

Proponents brand the common as scrubland to justify its enclosure, just as they once justified the cleansing of Little Ireland by describing it as 'wretched'. 

My family’s history proves that once a public asset is surrendered to the interests of golf, it is never returned. We aren’t just fighting for grass, trees, and legally protected wildlife, we are fighting a century-old habit of prioritising a private membership over a public heritage and the families who actually built this town.

The 'Public Interest' Myth 

Sefton Council justifies this 'land grab' by citing a £200m+ economic windfall from The Open. They call this the 'Public Interest' test. But as my family’s history in Little Ireland shows, the 'Public' in that equation rarely includes the people who actually live, walk, and breathe on this land.

In 1902, the 'Public Interest' was defined by the Victorian elite who wanted a prettier view from their clubhouse, so they burned the homes of 47 families. 

Today, the 'Public Interest' is defined by a Labour-led council desperate for tournament revenue to offset their own budget gap. In both cases, the 'Public' being served is a transient, wealthy elite, while the permanent loss is borne by the local residents.

My grandfather’s life is the ultimate proof of how this 'Public Interest' works: the state called on him to defend the 'Public' in 1914, but that same state didn't consider his own home on the dunes worth protecting in 1902. 

When the Council grants 'urgent' planning permission for a 6ft permanent fence and 2.4m artificial mounds, they aren't protecting the public; they are merely the latest generation of bailiffs clearing the commoners off the land to make way for golf facilities. 

If 'Public Interest' means destroying a century of natural heritage for a two-week hitting tee, then the word 'Public' has lost all meaning. When the council today uses the term 'Public interest' to fence off Birkdale Common, they are using the same eraser they used on my family (and others) over a century ago.

The 'Public Interest' claim falls apart. In 1902, the interest was a private club's view; in 2026, it’s a tournament’s infrastructure. In both cases, the cost is the permanent loss of our common land.

The shameful 1893 magistrates' order was the first time the state officially prioritised a golf fairway over family rooves.  

But the names marked for eviction didn't just disappear. When the 1901 Census was taken eight years later, those same families were still there, fighting for their rights and homes. They stayed on their land for nearly a decade longer than Southport's elite intended. They were a community of hard-working fishermen and cockle pickers who refused to be intimidated and 'cleansed' by a court order. 

It took the physical fire of 1902 to finally erase them. The fire wasn't an accident; it was the final stage of a legal process started by the Hesketh Estate in 1893. The law was used to label Little Ireland's community as 'trespassers' and the fire to make sure they could never came back.

Today, when Sefton Council issues its urgent planning permission for Birkdale Common, they are simply following the 1893 playbook: label the people as an inconvenience, then use the law to fence them out. 

The well-indoctrinated sheep accept this spin, yet some of us say 'No, enough's enough'! 

They might have the planning permission, but they will never have the community's consent to erase Sandgrounders ever again.