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~ Settled back in Jersey, heart still in Ireland….

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Category Archives: Jersey local history

Jersey’s Heritage Fleet

22 Sunday May 2022

Posted by Roy McCarthy in Jersey local history, Writing

≈ 3 Comments

I did a rare shift at Jersey’s Maritime Museum the other day – front desk, selling entry tickets to (mainly) our overseas visitors. It is, by general consensus, an excellent attraction. The museum is pretty big and showcases the Island’s long maritime history in an imaginative and interactive way. Young and old enjoy it equally.

A major bonus within the building is the Occupation Tapestry Gallery. This was created in 1995 and is a classy and poignant reminder of the unhappy Occupation years and had much input by the survivors.

My 30-minute lunch break came but the usual cubby hole had an electrician working away therein. I was directed instead to the Boat Workshop, accessed through ‘no entry’ doors deep within the museum. Like Alice climbing through the looking glass I found myself in a different world I only vaguely knew existed.

Over two levels lie workshops for carpentry and related works together with a big library of seafaring books and other assorted ephemera all connected to the sea. I found a kettle, made a coffee and sat down. There on the table I glanced at a French language glossy trade magazine which could have been printed yesterday but which, upon inspection, was dated October 1992.

One of Jersey Heritage’s remits is the restoration and maintenance of the ‘Heritage Fleet’, vessels that have a long connection to the Island. This work is done mainly by enthusiastic volunteers.

The boats bob happily in the nearby harbour to be taken out for a spin around the bay when occasion permits.

Shame on me that it took me so long, and a busy electrician, to discover all this.

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A stroll around Hamptonne’s lanes

06 Saturday Nov 2021

Posted by Roy McCarthy in Jersey local history, Writing

≈ 12 Comments

These days, when not sat in Jersey’s infernal traffic, I am running, albeit quite slowly. Even this gentle activity means that it is impossible to fully appreciate the finer detail of one’s surroundings. Yesterday however I had a few minutes to spare and wandered around the lanes close to Hamptonne in the parish of St Lawrence.

King Charles II Woods
When Charles I was beheaded in London in 1649, his young son Charles fled into exile for a number of years. He spent five months in Jersey where Laurens Hamptonne proclaimed him the next King. Adjacent to the car park is a little area of woodland, each tree planted in remembrance of one of the signatories of the proclamation.

Jersey Fine Tea
One of Jersey’s first tax dodges was the tea business. The Overseas Trading Corporation imported tea leaves from Ceylon, India etc. free of duty. They would blend and package the leaves, exporting to much of the world. The OTC has long gone but now we have Jersey Fine Tea and its boutique crop growing right next door to Hamptonne.

Eggs for sale
Go right ahead, take some, pay what you think.

A Jersey Arch
Peculiar to Jersey, nine stones, the height precisely twice the width.


All within a few minutes walk and all with a story to tell.

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La Faîs’sie d’Cidre 2021

17 Sunday Oct 2021

Posted by Roy McCarthy in Jersey local history

≈ 10 Comments

For 363 days of the year, Hamptonne Country Life Museum is an oasis of tranquillity. Tucked away in the lanes of St Lawrence parish, even many Jersey people scratch their heads in negotiating their way to the site. Holidaymakers – often elderly – are dropped off the no.7 bus every hour and proceed to head into the narrow lanes, taking wrong turnings, asking for directions, before finally arriving at the ticket office and shop. Most are then more eager to be shown where the toilets and café are rather than the other delights of our site, curated by Jersey Heritage.

Once settled, our guests can relax in a unique Jersey environment, a real throwback to the days when the only sounds to be heard in the country were birdsong, animal talk, the occasional smatter of the ancient Jerriaise language and perhaps the clank and creak of primitive farm machinery. Within minutes the heart rate steadies. A slow walk through the orchard clears the mind, the children delight in interacting with the chickens, sheep, pigs and Jersey calves. Of less interest to them, but fascinating to our adult visitors, are the three historical buildings which once consisted a working farm. And Lauren Hamptonne himself became the first person to proclaim – in Jersey’s Royal Square – the young Charles II as the new king of England after his father was executed.

But in mid-October, for a weekend, this all changes. Even during the Middle Ages there was room for high days and holidays and Jersey has its Cider Festival, a hark back to the days when cider production was a major Island industry. Just for two days. See the horse operating the apple crusher? The pictures are by Jersey Heritage.

Don Dolbel is 96

And let me tell you that a day on the front desk at Cider Festival time leaves one as drained as any farm worker 😃

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Lowestoft, Suffolk to Grouville, Jersey

29 Wednesday Sep 2021

Posted by Roy McCarthy in Jersey local history, Writing

≈ 10 Comments

Family trees, by definition, are names linked by familial relationship. Often the names have dates attached – birth, death, marriage. At its most basic, that’s it, a science of tracing the links via documents and registers.

Much more interesting and intriguing are the stories that are sometimes attached to those names. They illustrate, illuminate and bring to life the individual, but often the life and times of those around them. Let me give you an example from a little writing assignment I’m presently engaged in.

In 1872, George and Charlotte welcomed the birth of a baby girl, Caroline in Lowestoft, Suffolk which is on the English east coast. Having trained as a nurse, young Caroline was engaged by a certain Algernon to tend to his brother Robert, who was dying. Upon Robert’s death in 1895, Caroline heard of a need for nurses at the British Seamen’s Hospital in Algiers, north Africa. She applied and was accepted. Whilst in Algiers, Caroline was engaged as companion to a Lady Cole, wife of a British diplomat. Eventually Lady Cole returned home to Edinburgh, accompanied by Nurse Caroline.

Nurse Caroline

Wishing to visit her family, Caroline took the train and waited on the platform at Thorpe Station, Norwich for the connection to her home town Lowestoft. There she was, totally by chance, recognised and hailed by members of Algernon and Robert’s family. Her address was ascertained, correspondence ensued between Algernon and Caroline and, well, the rest is family history.

The other day I took a diversion in my planned run, to La Croix cemetery here in Jersey. Here lies Caroline who, having followed her daughter to Jersey later in life, died in 1963.

Final resting place, far from home

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Tradition in Action

19 Wednesday May 2021

Posted by Roy McCarthy in Jersey, Jersey local history, Writing

≈ 22 Comments

There isn’t much call for thatchers here in Jersey. We have plenty of lovely, traditional granite buildings but of thatched roofs there are no more than a handful.

So when five thatchers from Devon arrived in the island a couple of weeks ago, everybody sat up and took notice. Here at Hamptonne we have three historic farm buildings, two of which have thatched roofs. It is 20 years or so since they were last attended to. It was only as they got to work with their bright, golden straw that it could be seen how overdue the work was.

It was a surprise when they initially just tidied up the existing thatch and prepared to lay the new over it. The second surprise was the thickness of the new thatch.

Scaffolding is up

The guys are a taciturn bunch. They don’t say much, but just get on with it, dawn till dusk, seven days a week though they finish a bit earlier on Sundays. We’ve had TV and radio up here filming and interviewing, reluctantly in the case of the boss thatcher. They just want to get on, finish the job and head home with a cheque in their back pocket.

One week later

Today they’re just about finishing off Hamptonne House, the former home of Laurens Hamptonne who was the first to acclaim Charles II as King when his father had his head chopped off. Shortly they’ll start on Langlois House assuming we can deal with swallow nests, bats and other impediments to work.

Finished and pictured in late afternoon

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Back at Hamptonne

19 Friday Mar 2021

Posted by Roy McCarthy in Jersey local history, Writing

≈ 26 Comments

Hurrah, Jersey Heritage’s sites are open once more for the season. With light Covid restrictions of course but open nonetheless.

The sites are (inside) Jersey Museum and Maritime Museum (outside) La Hougue Bie, Mont Orgueil, Elizabeth Castle and Hamptonne Country Life Museum. I have the great pleasure of working two days a week at Hamptonne on the front desk.

You’d have thought it might have been quiet this morning for my first shift, especially as I’d entirely forgotten the workings of the till and associated systems, my login passwords etc. But no, Hamptonne is a regular meet-up location for nannies and childminders and in they poured on the dot of 10 o’clock, young charges in tow, old and young flying through the shop, membership passes being flashed my way, chicken food being politely demanded. Track and Trace contact details to be collected. After a while the wave subsided and I was able to draw breath.

Hamptonne House

Hamptonne sits amongst quiet lanes in the middle of Jersey, not easy to find. The buildings date back 400 years and are quite beautiful. But the local families are more interested in the animals and open spaces, a lovely place for the often town bound kids. We have chickens free-ranging around and rabbits in the stables. New this season are sheep in the meadow and piglets to replace the monster hogs that virtually needed dynamite last October to shift them to wherever fully-grown pigs go. Finally, a couple of Jersey calves, the prettiest breed of cows.

The new Hamptonne sheep

A Gardien is in overall charge of each site, a VSA (Visitor Services Assistant) at front of house. In addition there is a regular stream of volunteers. Today, for example, we had Dave as Visitor Host who took some of the heat off me at the desk whilst providing good football chat in quieter moments. There are Tour Guides and, later in the season, we’ll see a bit of Living History, guys and gals that dress and act as if in the good old days.

Like all hospitality businesses, Heritage have struggled with the pandemic but we are well supported by the government. It’s nice to be able to open on time but everyone hopes that we’ll soon be able to welcome overseas visitors once more.

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Take a leaf from Bob’s book

03 Saturday Oct 2020

Posted by Roy McCarthy in Jersey local history, Writing

≈ 26 Comments

My hero Bob Le Sueur just celebrated his 100th birthday. He is a legend in Jersey having lived, worked and resisted during the Occupation. As a young man and office junior he found that all of his colleagues, including his superiors, had evacuated the Island in advance of the German invasion. On telephoning his head office in the UK he was instructed to take charge, and so he did.

He spent much of his spare time during those terrible years risking his own life by organising shelter for escaped slave workers and carrying out various other acts of subversion. Since the War he has devoted much of his life to supporting various human rights causes and charities.

Now, I love my social history on a very amateur level. I enjoy seeing those black-and-white photos of old Jersey and hearing the old folk tell their stories of their youth. But it annoys me intensely to read, on an almost daily basis, the sighs and laments from those who long for those days to return.

“Look what they’ve done to Jersey.” (Whoever “they” are.)
“The Island has been ruined.”
“I wish I’d lived back then.”

I bite my tongue and refrain from suggesting that, should the complainers be transported back 100 years, they’d be clamouring to return to 2020 – with all its faults – before nightfall.

Bob Le Sueur, 100.

So, what does Bob have to say? Surely he looks back on his life in Jersey with fondness and regrets those things we have lost? This is what he has to say:

“I’m not someone who sighs for the good old days. I feel happy to have lived long enough to have seen so many positive improvements in our lives, in our attitudes and what we call our values.

“The position of women has improved dramatically in my lifetime, and we as a community care about the disabled. They are no longer hidden away, particularly the mentally disabled.

“I think young people today, in general, are much more aware and concerned about people in other parts of the world who are being victimised.

“I’m proud that I live in a self-governing community which has the breadth of vision to look beyond the horizon, and be a small part in the positive development of the global village.”

That’s Bob. If only there were a few more like him.

*Bob’s recently-produced memoir Growing Up Fast is available as an ebook here, and Waterstones here in Jersey has, I believe, copies of the paperback.

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The Beast of Jersey (3 of 3)

02 Thursday Jul 2020

Posted by Roy McCarthy in Jersey local history, Writing

≈ 4 Comments

See here for Part 1 and here for Part 2.

On 10th July 1971 around 11.45pm a car jumped the lights at Georgetown, just east of St Helier, and drove off erratically. Police Constables Riseborough and McGinn, on mobile patrol, gave chase. It was hair-raising as the Morris 1100 attempted to evade the chasers for several miles. Had the driver simply stopped at the outset and apologised he might have got away with it I imagine.

How the Beast appeared to his victims

He was eventually caught and arrested and taken to police HQ. Over the ensuing hours it became clear, by the man’s dress and the contents of his pockets and car, that this was no ordinary arrest. It was Edward John Louis Paisnel, 46, The Beast of Jersey. A building contractor, well-known and respected, married with a daughter and two step-children.

Searches of his house at Grouville revealed the extent of his activities and of his interests and mindset. His wife Joan professed to know nothing of her husband’s nocturnal activities.

Paisnel arriving for trial

He was charged on 13 counts and was quickly found guilty and sentenced to 30 years. He served 20 years in Winchester Gaol and was released after being a model prisoner. Astonishingly, he sought to return to Jersey but no one here was having it. He moved to the Isle of Wight where, three years later in 1994, he died of a heart attack.

Paisnel unmasked

For a more detailed account you should visit the excellent True Crime Enthusiast website.

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The Beast of Jersey (2 of 3)

27 Saturday Jun 2020

Posted by Roy McCarthy in Jersey local history, Writing

≈ 10 Comments

Following on from Part 1, the people of Jersey were now scared, as you can imagine, especially in the country parishes. Left to their own devices, the Jersey police were getting nowhere. They called in Scotland Yard in the shape of DS Jack Mannings, a well-known adversary of the Kray Brothers in London’s gangland.

He set to work, compiling an identikit of the Beast and challenging the Jersey public to help find him. No man was above suspicion and many interviews took place. These included the loner Alphonse Le Gastelois who, relentlessly hounded by police and public, took himself off to the Écréhous reef in a 14-year exile.

No one was apprehended, but things went quiet. There were no further incidents until

  • April 1963. A nine-year-old boy in St Saviour was attacked with a similar MO as before.
  • November 1963. An 11-year-old boy was attacked, again in St Saviour.
  • July 1964. A ten-year-old girl in Trinity was attacked.
  • August 1964. A 16-year-old boy in Grouville was attacked.

Things went quiet again. Was he gone? In 1966 the police received a letter.

My Dear Sir,
               I think that it is just the time to tell you that you are just wasting your time, as every time I have done wat I always intended to do and remember it will not stop at this, but I will be fair to you and give you a chance. I have never had much out of this life but I intend to get everything I can now…..I have always wanted to do the perfect crime. I have done this, but this time let the moon shine very britte in September because this time it must be perfect, not one but two. I am not a maniac by a long shot but I like to play with you people. You will hear from me before September and I will give you all the clues. Just to see if you can catch me.

  • August 1966. A 15-year-old girl was savagely raped in Trinity.
  • December 1966. 20-year-old Tuula Hoeoek, a Finnish au pair, was murdered, her skull smashed to pieces. This doesn’t form part of the Beast’s official litany of attacks. I wonder why, as the MO was remarkably similar to his other attacks – victim picked up at bus stop, dragged into to a field etc. The extreme violence, maybe provoked by Tuula’s spirited resistance, was taking things to a new level though.
The field entrance where Tuula’s battered body was found. Poor kid. When running by here I always stop and say hello.

Maybe even the Beast was shocked as there was peace and quiet until

  • August 1970. A 13-year-old boy in Vallee des Vaux was dragged from his bed and indecently assaulted. Scratches on the boy’s body were identical to those found after the August 1966 attack.

It was, mercifully, to be the last reported attack.

But who and where was he?

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The Beast of Jersey (1 of 3)

25 Thursday Jun 2020

Posted by Roy McCarthy in Jersey local history, Writing

≈ 11 Comments

The true story of The Beast is old news really, so much so that I hesitate even to blog about it. I’ve nothing new to add. However it’s strange that he (for The Beast indeed eventually proved male) has faded from the general consciousness over the years. For most of the island population it’s only a hazy story, half-remembered. And when, towards the end of my guided tours of Mont Orgueil, I ask our visitors to the Island ‘Do you know of the Beast of Jersey?’ there is invariably a collective bemused look and a shaking of heads, whereupon I relate an abbreviated version.

So here follows the story as I know it. As I say, there’s nothing new. What follows is from sources freely accessible which I’ll credit at the end of the story. I only wish I had access to the police records of the time.


  • November 1957. The first strike of the Beast, as he was later to become known. A 29-year-old nurse, waiting for a bus at Mont a L’Abbé, was dragged into a field and sexually assaulted. Many stitches required. The attacker’s face was covered and he was said to have an ‘Irish accent.’
  • March 1958. A 20-year-old woman walking from a bus stop in Trinity was dragged into a field and raped.
  • July 1958. A 31-year-old woman, also walking home from a bus stop was dragged into a field and sexually assaulted.

    You see a pattern emerging.
  • August 1959. A young girl walking home in Grouville, dragged into a field and sexually assaulted.
  • October 1959. A 28-year-old woman indecently assaulted in St Martin, but fought off her assailant.
More innocent times… or were they?

Two years of attacks, almost certainly by the same person, who was about 5’6”, maybe mid-40s, affecting an Irish-type accent and he smelled ‘musty’. The Jersey police were no nearer to him. There were also recurring themes in the attacker’s modus operandi though now they changed, and not for the better.

  • February 1960. A 12-year-old boy, asleep in his bed in the Grands Vaux area, was awoken and a rope placed around his neck. He was led outside and indecently assaulted.
  • March 1960. In St Brelade, a woman accepted a lift from a man who said he was a doctor. He drove into a field, dragged the woman out of a car, tied her hands up and raped her. Thrown back into the car, the woman then managed to escape.
  • March 1960 again. In St Martin, a 43-year-old mother was awakened by a noise downstairs at about 1.30am. Going down to investigate she heard someone in the living room but, on attempting to telephone the police, she found the wires had been pulled out. She was confronted by a man who grabbed her, demanded money and threatened to kill her. Hearing the woman’s 14-year-old daughter coming downstairs to investigate, the man left and the woman dashed out to a nearby house to raise the alarm. On her return, her daughter had been brutally raped.

Had the Beast finished? Read on.

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