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.

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.

In 1935 my character Tess in A Jersey Midsummer Tale bought an apple at Newman’s Cash Stores while considering what to do about Robin, a young man who waited outside for her.

Credit Jerripedia

85 years later she might be surprised to see the present shop on the site at Red Houses is rather bigger, but I guess she could still buy an apple there.

In Jersey we have our big historical set pieces; Mont Orgueil, Elizabeth Castle, the amazing Neolithic structure which is La Hougue Bie. Scattered around are the few dolmens that remain more or less intact. We have the world-renowned Paleolithic cave structure of La Cotte.

But within our 9 x 5 island there is so much more of historical and social interest everywhere, all around. Often you might not see or notice these bits and pieces. To be honest, they may not be of huge interest to everyone.

But here are a few example I’ve collected in the last couple of days with easy walking distance of where I live.

Milestone
I’ve been past this hundreds of times without noticing it. It reads ‘St.C 1’, meaning it’s in the parish of St Clement and it’s one mile from the Royal Square in St Helier. See how the later wall is carefully shaped around it. As you can see, there it is, marked on an 1849 map, to the right of the map.

Disused railway platform
Moving on to the FB Fields, on land gifted to Jersey by Florence Boot née Rowe, a Jersey girl who married Jesse Boot, the founder of the chemist chain. Here is the back edge of the platform of the former Grève d’Azette railway station that ran alongside the fields until it ceased operations in 1929.

Changing rooms
And, just a little further along, what is grandly referred to as a ‘Pavilion’ on the 1935 map. Changing rooms serving the further reaches of the FB Fields. Let me tell you that cramming a team of cricketers and their gear into one of the small changing rooms within is mission impossible.

Concrete square
This is a curiosity that people walk by without a second glance. It looks suspiciously German, possible a gun mount, but I can’t find any reference to it. It’s a handy resting place anyway. [Edit: it’s a water tank previously used to water the fields.]

Main Pavilion
A lovely building, probably built in the 1920s. It’s given great service to generations of sportsmen and women.

Cricket nets
And finally (for now) our lovely cricket nets which I remember being opened by (I believe) Derek Randall and now in rack and ruin through lack of maintenance.

Long ago in Jersey, Hubert was engaged to be married to Madeleine. Hubert liked to go for long walks and one night his walk took him to Rocqueberg Point, where he fell asleep next to the great rock there. When he awoke the rock had gone. He was in a magic wood surrounded by beautiful girls dancing among the trees. Hubert danced with them, and promised to return the following night. Hubert told Madeleine his story and she warned him not to return there, but Hubert decided to go.

Madeleine hurried to the priest and he advised her to take a crucifix and follow Hubert. She did so, to find him dancing gaily with some ugly old witches. When Madeleine held the crucifix up the witches vanished, shrieking. Hubert was saved.

1959, credit Jerripedia

And to this day you can still see the Devil’s cloven hoofmark on the rock.

Hardly matching the Irish diaspora, but you’ll find Jersey surnames all over the world, principally on the Gaspé Peninsula, Quebec, a reminder of the flourishing cod fishing days there.

But a more unusual link is that created by Philippe L’Escaudé of St Ouen, the parish situated in the far north-west of Jersey. It turns out that he’s the great-great-great grandfather of William Cody, or Buffalo Bill. Philippe was born in Jersey in 1668 into an old established Jersey family. At some stage Philippe emigrated, quite possibly to Canada. Along the line the surname was corrupted or amended, but the acute accent over the final ‘e’ of the surname would certainly explain how that came to be.

William’s (that is Buffalo Bill’s) father Isaac was born in 1811 in modern Ontario and his mother in Trenton, New Jersey (which itself is highly significant in Jersey’s history). William was born in Iowa in 1846. He became a hunter, soldier and Indian fighter, but his reputation was artificially enhanced by a writer, Ned Buntline, who made money out of his mostly fictional Buffalo Bill adventures.

William later became famous for his touring Wild West show, a pastiche of what life was supposedly like in those pioneering days. He died in Denver in 1917.

Today Philippe’s former Jersey homestead in St Ouen is marked by a plaque, fittingly in Jersey’s own wild west.

Easily the most photographed location in Jersey, Gorey Castle (later to be named Mont Orgueil) owes its origins to those pesky French. While King John of England was also Duke of Normandy, our French island (which shortly afterwards became British) was a peaceful backwater. When John lost his Norman possessions and Jersey opted to stay loyal to John, trouble was in the offing. In 1212 there is first mention of a defensive castle here at Gorey, 14 miles from the Normandy coast.

Though the French were a constant nuisance in the centuries to follow, Mont Orgueil was never taken by force. But in the 1500s the castle became vulnerable to cannon fire from higher ground and was superseded by Elizabeth Castle. Only thanks to Sir Walter Raleigh, Governor of Jersey 1600 – 1603, was it saved from demolition.

Credit Kevin Lloyd

Gorey and its little harbour were transformed in the early 19th century by a lively oyster fishing trade and, later, a shipbuilding industry along its shores. The 20th century saw mass tourism and this was a hugely popular spot.

These days Gorey is quieter, but in easy reach for a walk around the harbour area or a visit to its bars and restaurants. Of course Mont Orgueil is normally open to visitors and it’s my pleasure to be one of the volunteer tour guides there.

The Great War 1914-18 didn’t touch the Channel Islands directly. True, many Jerseymen joined up to fight, and many never returned. And a POW camp popped up on the sand dunes with hundreds of Germans enjoying a little holiday there. But generally speaking, life in our quiet island continued as normal.

On the site of the present day Highlands College was a Jesuit school, Notre Dame de Bon Secours. On 6th July 1915 a group of students set off for their annual picnic with a school master. Their destination was Portelet Bay on Jersey’s south-west coast.

The weather was poor – cloudy and windy. Nonetheless the boys, seeing the tide receding, decided to bathe. Few were able to swim, but ventured into the shallower waters off the western edge of the causeway leading over to Janvrin’s tomb.

It appears that a large wave swept the boys over the causeway to the deeper waters on the other side.

Eight boys were drowned.

During their five years uninvited stay with us, it was inevitable that a number of Nazi Germany’s forces passed away. Natural causes accounted for many. There were drownings, accidents and the odd suicide and execution. In the latter months particularly, growing numbers died at the General Hospital after sustaining battle wounds in France or in the seas around the Channel Islands. Shortage of anaesthetic at that stage meant that many died badly.

The bodies were added to those who were prisoners of war here during WW1 but who passed away during their stay.

Most were interred at St Brelade’s churchyard. Below are then-and-now shots of the Rectory grounds. The first (thank you Peter Knight) was taken in 1947 and shows a number of marked graves. The wooden crosses replaced the original iron crosses. These graves were eventually moved across the road into the main churchyard. The second image is from much the same spot, taken today.

This is the main German cemetery in 1945, presumably after the Occupation (credit Jerripedia).

In 1961 the bodies were exhumed and re-interred at the military cemetery at Mont de Huisnes, St Malo, France.

Yesterday I picket up my pocket camera and headed off for a nice easy run. This particular spot in the south-west corner of the island has always fascinated me. It’s on the Railway Walk, the course of the railway which ceased to operate in 1935.

The track to the left was the 1885 original, running over to the quarry at La Moye, now used by the Jersey Waterworks Company.

In 1899 the extension to the Corbière Pavilion was laid – this heads off to the right and this is the how the old Corbière station looks today.

That rock in the foreground is the Table des Marthes, Neolithic, but little else about it is known.

Returning to the top picture, after the extension was laid the left branch was abandoned, but for a while there existed a temporary request halt right at the spot where the bench stands. It was named The Temporary.

Recently we here in Jersey were treated to a lovely little playlet which portrayed six ‘forgotten’ Jersey women, those that defied convention and helped others to follow on more easily. I’ve blogged before about the ‘Surreal Sisters’ Lucie Schwob and Suzanne Malherbe. Others to feature were Caroline Trachy (politics), Elinor Glyn (literature) and Florence Boot née Rowe (philanthropist).

In truth, Lilian Mary Grandin was never entirely forgotten, but maybe one Jersey resident in a hundred would recognise the name today. We think nothing these days of women doctors, but it was noteworthy in the extreme until fairly recent times.

Ms Grandin was born in Regent Road in 1876, where a plaque commemorates that fact. She was educated at Jersey Ladies College. A devout Methodist, she was determined to serve as a missionary. To this end she studied medicine and chemistry in Edinburgh, midwifery in Dublin (no doubt at the Rotunda) and tropical and eye diseases in London. She was sent off to Yunnan Province in China where she was to spend what remained of her life.

Pupils from Jersey College for Girls visit Grandin’s grave in 2014.

In Yunnan she set up a clinic and leper colony and trained many Chinese women as nurses. In 1912 she married the author Edwin Dingle but continued with her profession.

In 1924 she developed typhus symptoms, but gave her remaining dose of typhus medicine to a patient. She died a short time later, aged just 48.

Commemorative stamps issued in 1976

The clinic she founded in Yunnan is now a hospital which treats 60,000 patients a year. There Grandin is remembered as the Angel of Zhoutong.