The Sunday Archive: The Pilot, July 1993 - Part 3

The Sunday Archive: The Pilot, July 1993 - Part 3

They're in the Bible, but . . .
CAESAREA
(by the sea)
By Terry Hampton

THIS WEEK I read that Jesus sailed from. Caesarea with Paul, Peter plus Luke in AD 60. Bet you didn't know that. Yes, it's all there in Acts 27. In case you, O gentle reader, have looked up the passage and searched in vain for Jesus' name in it, let me reassure you that it's not there! This nonsense comes in a recent book by an Australian Dead Sea Scrolls academic, who argues that Jesus didn't die on the Cross, that he was rescued by his disciples (He had, by the way, courted and married Mary of Magdalen — who is the same Mary as Mary of Bethany) and then Jesus manages to escape detection and betrayal during the terrible Fire of Rome (AD 64), and eventually died of old age (and inactivity perhaps?) after AD 70. The purveyor of this puerile rubbish is one Dr Barbara Thiering (or something!) Now back to Caesarea Maritima.

Built by Herod the Great (c 20 BC) it became the great and only port of the Roman province of Judea. Prefects or governors landed there and had Caesarea as their Roman capital -with with Jerusalem as the spiritual and. Jewish capital. Pilate landed there and in 1961 a stone was found in the Roman theatre with Pilate's name on it. Whether Jesus ever went there we don't know. Herod also built an aqueduct to bring water from the Mount Carmel range, a distance of some twelve miles or so. The aqueduct is still standing — tho' with large gaps as it goes across the seashore.

The theatre has been rebuilt and the Israel Orchestra play concerts there — it holds about 3,000 people. It was here we believe that the great Rossi Ahisa was tortured to death by the Romans in AD 135 for his support of the false Messiah, Bar Kochba.

Caesarea was the home of the Roman Centurion Cornelius [Acts 10], a gentile who with his "household" [v.2] received the Holy Spirit whilst listening to Peter preach. It was here that Paul was kept for two years during the rule of the corrupt Prefect Felix [Acts 24¬27] and where Paul spoke powerfully before the new Governor's judgement seat — on Porcius Testus. As a Roman citizen Paul had the right to appeal to the Emperor Nero for a fresh trial — which he used "Appelatio ad Caesarem."

Jewish Revolt

Caesarea was one of the places where the first Jewish Revolt was sparked off. Anti-Jewish mobs attacked the synagogues and the local Jews had had more than enough of anti-semitism, so they reacted fiercely. Jerusalem Jews were furious at the conduct of the then Prefect Florus, and his constant monetary exactions led some wags to go round with collecting bags calling out "Alms for poor old Florus!" He was not amused and so the first Jewish Revolt erupted in AD 66, only ending with the destruction of the Temple in the summer of AD 70.

From Caesarea Paul sailed to Rome to stand trial, tho' with a benign Roman centurion called Julius allowing him some very unusual privileges [see Acts 27:3]. As mentioned before, Rossi Ahisa died here, reciting aloud the Shema, or Jewish creed, "The Lord our God is one Lord." It ended "Love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, soul, mind and strength," and then the godly but mistaken Rossi died. There is a powerful Jewish legend that Moses had a vision in which Rossi Ahisa sits teaching the Torah, the Law, to his pupils — with Moses sitting humbly in the eighth row. "And when he enquired about the end of this chosen teacher, he saw another image — Ahisa reciting the Shema as the iron combs rent his body."

Caesarea was a magnificently built town. The breakwater was made of the recently developed quick-drying Roman cement. There were great storehouses for grain and oil, a temple to Augustus, a theatre, and (c.3 AD) a small Mithraic Temple. Outside the walls were a hippodrome for chariot racing and an amphitheatre for gladiators and wild beast fights. Today an American expedition is exploring the foreshore and submerged remains and its members have to be qualified scuba divers!

And Caesarea for us (some readers saw it only a month ago of course!). If we remember Cornelius, the Roman centurion [Acts 10] we recall that here was a "devout man who feared God, gave liberally and prayed constantly." A fine man, who was then "set on fire" by receiving the indwelling power of the Holy Spirit.

What became of Cornelius and his household? We wish we knew! But I bet anything that he had a house church in his home and that it was a place of refuge and help to all in need, and that Cornelius was an outstanding Christian leader, who witnessed to his men.

A challenge there for each of us, surely. Do I witness for Jesus in my work — is my house available for God's work and for God's people? Spend some time reading, thinking about and praying through Acts 10. There are some powerful and challenging "words of the Lord" for all of us there!

St Swithun’s Day

JULY 15th is St Swithun’s Day. St Swithun was a Bishop of Winchester in the 9th century. When he died in 892 he was buried in the churchyard because he wanted to lie where the rain would fall on his wave.

Nearly 100 years later the monks at Winchester decided that they would re-bury him in a much grander tomb inside the Cathedral. Legend says that the Saint was so angry, because the monks went against his wishes, that he made it rain violently for 40 days until the monks gave up the plan.

Ever since then, if it rains on St Swithun’s Day, it is sup-posed to rain for the next 40 days. The old rhyme says

"St Swithun’s Day, if it do rain, For 40 days it will remain.
St Swithun’s Day, and it be fair, For 40 days will rain no more

Watch the weather on July 15th and'for the next 40 days to see if the old rhyme is really right.

Letters to The Editor

I am writing on behalf of the Jersey Trefoil Guild to ask if a correction could be made to the paragraph in the St Helier Parish Letter in the May PILOT about the Trefoil Guild's Service of Dedication on 16th May. This service was held in parallel with a service held in Winchester Cathedral on the same day by the South West Region of England. The Channel Islands belong to this region of the Girl Guides Association and the services were held to celebrate the Golden Jubilee of the Trefoil Guild in the United Kingdom and Overseas. The Jersey Guild — a branch of the National Guild — was formed in 1947, so celebrates its Golden anniversary in 1997.

The service at Winchester was attended by two Jersey members, one of which was the Island chairman. The Colours of all the counties in the south west region were paraded and it was wonderful to see the Jersey Standard there accompanied by the Island Guide Commissioner, and the Island Chairman, Mrs Betty Lewis.

The wonderful service did not figure as part of the 900 years' celebrations of the Cathedral, but the building was packed to capacity by TG members from all over the south west region. The highlight of the service was readings by Mrs Betty Clay, daughter of the late World Chief Guide, of some of her mother's writings.

The service was followed by the Annual General Meeting of the region in Winchester Guild Hall.

Yours sincerely

DOREEN JENNINGS

PRO, The Trefoil Guild Roseville Street, St Helier

PS — The Guild was most grateful to St Helier Church Officers for letting us use the Parish Church as obviously it was not possible for all members to travel to Winchester but it joined them to all members of the region in spirit.

 

Dear Editor,

I refer to the parish letter from Grouville and St Peter La Rocque in the June issue of "The Pilot".

I would have expected better from the Reverend Terry after he has read bedtime stories to his own four children and probably more recently to his grandson — does he not know that Peter Rabbit, the Flopsy Bunnies, Jemima Puddleduck (not Puddlewick, Terry), were written by Beatrix Potter, not Alison Uttley. She wrote the Little Grey Rabbit books

We in Trinity Rectory are now fully conversant with the Beatrix Potter characters, especially so as four of the stories are now available on video:. Perhaps the Reverend Terry would care 'to borrow them to improve his knowledge —t am sure that Joshua would be willing to hire them out for a small fee.

JILL KEOGH

Holy Trinity Rectory Trinity

Lie Thee Down, Oddity

The title of the poem, and some of the sense of it comes from T.F. Powys "Lie Thee Down, Oddity", which can be read here:

http://tonymusings.blogspot.com/2007/01/lie-thee-down-oddity.html

T.F. Powys was a mystical fabulist known for his unique tales in Dorset villages. I first came across this story in an anthology of writers called "Modern Short Stories" at school. I have since read "Mr Weston's Good Wine", "Fables", "God's Eye A Twinkle". His rural retelling of the Christmas story is one of the best I have ever read: https://tonymusings.blogspot.com/2006/12/christmas-gift.html

I have drawn on T.F. Powys, but in my own way, melding it with my own perceptions of the world and my own spirituality. 

Lie Thee Down, Oddity

Now lie thee down oddity, I'm wont to say
The still small voice that comes this day
It calls, insistently, will not silent be
Until it is acted upon by me
It comes with joy and yet with sorrow
Heals the past, brings hope for morrow
It comes sometime like wind in trees
Stirs the branches with its pleas
It calls to reach out loving hand
And calls across both sea and land
It speaks of world so brave and cruel
And stirs the waters of Siloam’s pool
It came in washing  my feet and toes
That washed away a hundred woes
It comes to me in wine and bread
And hearing word that must be said
It comes to me by day or night
And always shining ever bright
It is both the glory and the hope
For me when I cannot cope

1986 - 40 years ago - April- Part 2

1986 - 40 years ago - April- Part 2

April 14-20

A SECOND alleged mistake at the General Hospital comes to light after the case involving the death of Miss Trudy Sargent from meningitis is reported. It is revealed that Miss Emma Bertram (23), almost died after being sent home from the emergency department on New Year's Eve. Miss Bertram, who received serious injuries in a road accident, was saved by an emergency operation the day after being sent home from hospital.

 

Jersey European Airways have an application to operate a service on the Jersey—Bournemouth route turned down by the Civil Aviation Authority. The CAA says that Dan-Air provide a satisfactory service on the route for the majority of the market.

 

Cut-price, early-season breaks boost tourism bookings. Gala Holidays, Channel Island Ferries and Modernline Travel put together short-stay holidays costing from as little as £35.

The National Trust for Jersey's president, Mr Jack Trotman, makes it clear that his organisation will not exert pressure to prevent the flooding of Queen's Valley.

 

The former Chef de Police of St Saviour, Mr Snow Robins, is elected as the parish's new Constable. He says that he foresees few changes, paying tribute to the work of his predecessor, Mr Len Norman, who died in March.

St Helier marina receives a five-star rating from the National Yacht Harbour Association. A new scheme to attract more commercial sponsorship to the Battle of Flowers is launched at a meeting at Fort Regent.

April 21-27

ARMED police keep a night-long vigil outside a house in St Mary after a man armed with a shotgun refuses to give himself up after an alleged assault.

The man, a French national, surrenders without firing a shot after nine hours. Jerseyman Lt-Col Bruce Willing is made an Officer of the Order of the British Empire for gallantry in Northern Ireland.

The Seigneur of Sark, Mr Michael Beaumont, makes a formal complaint after Channel Television compares Sark's water supply to that of a Third World Country.

Hautlieu School's headmaster, Mr Jack Worrall, is awarded the insignia of la Croix de Chevalier dans l'Orde des Palmes Academiques at the French Embassy in London for his services to French language and culture.

Another senior officer in the States Police is suspended from duty. Police Insp. Ralph Barrass Blenkinsop is informed of his suspension a few hours after UK officers conclude inquiries which have already led to the suspension of Det. Chief Insp. Charles Quinn and Det. Sgt. Brian Follain.

A two-day trade show is held at Howard Davis Farm, the Trinity headquarters of the Agriculture and Fisheries Department. Among the visitors are the Bailiff, Mr Peter Crill, and the Lieut.-Governor, Admiral Sir William Pillar.

Centenier Peter Pearce, who was suspended from office earlier in the year, announces through his legal representative, Advocate Francis Hamon, that he is to appeal against his suspension.

External Jurats in High Profile Retrials in Jersey - a Discussion Document

Background

The States have approved the reintroduction of retrials when a jury cannot reach a majority verdict. This reverses a 2018 amendment that had removed the option of retrying cases that ended with a hung jury.

Under the new approach, a single retrial will be permitted if jurors fail to reach a verdict. The Home Affairs Minister, Deputy Mary Le Hegarat, argued that a hung jury is not a verdict and leaves victims, families and the wider public without closure. Supporters say the change brings Jersey back into line with other common‑law jurisdictions and ensures serious allegations are not left unresolved.

Critics, including Sir Philip Bailhache, warned that allowing retrials gives the prosecution “a second bite of the cherry” and risks undermining the principle of reasonable doubt. The debate gained momentum after the L’Ecume II trial, where the jury was unable to reach verdicts on key charges, exposing the gap created by the 2018 reform.

15 politicians voted against retrials, but 27 politicians supported the plans and three abstained.

In favour:

Supporters of the change argue that a hung jury is not a verdict. When jurors cannot reach agreement, the case ends without resolution, leaving victims, families and the wider public without answers. Allowing a single retrial ensures that serious allegations are not left in limbo simply because one jury could not reach a decision.

They also emphasise that Jersey should remain aligned with other common‑law jurisdictions, where retrials after hung juries are standard practice. In their view, Jersey’s previous position of banning retrials entirely was an outlier that weakened the justice system’s ability to deal with complex or sensitive cases.

Another argument is that a retrial can actually strengthen fairness. A second jury may see the evidence differently, and the process gives both sides an opportunity to present their case more clearly. Supporters say this is especially important in cases involving multiple charges or complicated facts, where a single jury may struggle to reach unanimity.

Finally, proponents argue that justice must be seen to be done. If a serious case collapses because a jury cannot agree, public confidence can be damaged. Allowing one retrial strikes a balance: it avoids endless prosecutions while ensuring that the most serious matters receive a full and fair hearing.

Against:

Opponents argue that a hung jury already demonstrates reasonable doubt. If twelve people cannot agree on guilt, they say the prosecution has failed to meet the required standard, and retrying the case effectively disregards that outcome. Many Members also warned that a retrial gives the prosecution a “second bite of the cherry”, allowing it to refine its case while the defendant must endure the entire process again.

There are also concerns about the burden placed on defendants. A second trial can mean enormous financial strain, prolonged stress and reputational damage, and in some cases may pressure innocent people into pleading guilty simply to avoid another ordeal. Critics also question whether a second trial can ever be truly fair in a small community. After extensive media coverage and public discussion, finding a fresh jury without preconceived views becomes increasingly difficult.

Some Members argued that repeated attempts to secure a conviction risk undermining public confidence in the justice system, suggesting the State is unwilling to accept the outcome of the first trial. Others highlighted the significant cost to taxpayers, especially in complex or high‑profile cases, and questioned whether public money should be used to repeat a process that has already failed to reach a verdict. Finally, critics noted that Jersey had previously removed retrials after hung juries to strengthen protections for defendants, and reversing that decision was seen by some as a step backwards.

Elsewhere:

In England and Wales, retrials after a hung jury are long‑established practice. If a jury cannot reach a verdict, the prosecution may seek a retrial provided there remains a realistic prospect of conviction and it is in the public interest. This approach is seen as a normal part of criminal procedure. Scotland also permits retrials after a hung jury, though its jury system and verdict options differ.

Guernsey does not use juries for criminal trials. Cases are decided by a judge and Jurats, so the concept of a hung jury does not arise. Because of this structure, Guernsey has no need for a retrial mechanism based on jury disagreement.

The Isle of Man requires unanimous jury verdicts, and hung juries are rare. When they do occur, a retrial can be ordered, but it is considered exceptional. The system allows for a second trial, but the threshold for proceeding is high and the situation arises infrequently.

In Australia, all states and territories allow retrials after a hung jury. Jury unanimity is preferred, but most jurisdictions accept majority verdicts in many cases. If a jury still cannot agree, a mistrial is declared and prosecutors may seek a retrial. This is treated as a routine safeguard to ensure serious charges are fully tested.

Canada also permits retrials after a hung jury. When a jury cannot reach a unanimous verdict, the judge declares a mistrial, and the Crown may order a new trial. This is standard practice across the country and is viewed as necessary to ensure that unresolved serious cases are not left without a conclusion.

External Juries?

Jersey has never used external jurors, but other small or close‑knit jurisdictions have done so when fairness demanded it. If Jersey ever faced a case so high‑profile that a second impartial jury could not be found, international examples show that importing jurors is a workable, though exceptional, safeguard.

Allowing external jurors in Jersey would require several deliberate legal changes, each addressing a different structural assumption in the current system. The Jury Law would need to be amended so that jurors are no longer required to be Jersey residents, creating a new category of “external” or “special” juror who can be summoned from outside the Island. This change would also need to define their eligibility, duties and protections while serving.

A further amendment would be needed to give the Bailiff or Royal Court explicit authority to order external jurors in exceptional circumstances, such as when local impartiality cannot be guaranteed. This power would need clear criteria to prevent overuse and ensure it is reserved for genuinely high‑profile or sensitive cases.

The law would also have to provide a legal basis for summoning, transporting and accommodating external jurors. That includes specifying who pays for travel and lodging, how jurors are supervised, and how they are sworn in. Additional provisions would be required to extend Jersey’s contempt‑of‑court rules, confidentiality obligations and juror protections to people who are not ordinarily resident in the Island.

Because juror information is sensitive, Jersey would need to adjust its data‑protection framework to allow limited sharing of personal data with the UK, Isle of Man or other jurisdictions supplying jurors, while maintaining GDPR‑level safeguards. Finally, the Royal Court Law may need clarification to ensure that the presence of non‑resident jurors does not conflict with the Court’s defined composition or procedures.

These changes would not be minor tweaks,  they would amount to a carefully designed legal framework enabling external jurors only when absolutely necessary, while preserving the integrity of Jersey’s justice system.

The case of the Jurats - a way forward?

Jersey has already shown, through the recent reform allowing Guernsey Jurats to sit in the Royal Court, that it can adapt long‑standing constitutional rules when fairness or practicality requires it. That change demonstrated that the Island is willing to bring in external decision‑makers in exceptional circumstances, especially when the local pool is too small or conflicts of interest are more likely in a close‑knit community. The amendment effectively expanded who could serve as a Jurat and created a lawful mechanism for cross‑island judicial cooperation without undermining Jersey’s autonomy.

This precedent matters because it shows that Jersey is not rigidly bound to a purely insular model of justice. If the Island can adjust the composition of its Jurat bench, historically one of the most traditional parts of its legal system, then, in principle, it could also adjust the jury system if impartiality in a high‑profile case became impossible. The Jurat reform proves that external adjudicators can be integrated into Jersey’s courts while preserving the integrity and identity of the justice system.

In that sense, the Jurat example strengthens the argument that importing jurors, while more complex, is not conceptually out of reach. Jersey has already accepted the idea that fairness sometimes requires looking beyond its own borders, and it has already created a legal framework to make that work in practice.

Boys have lost their sense of purpose

This letter appeared in the 26 March 2026 JEP. I have kept the writers name off this public space although as it was in the JEP, it could be considered a public engagement.

The core quantitative claims about education and qualifications in Jersey and the UK, and about male over‑representation in suicide, are well grounded in current official statistics. The overall narrative, that boys and young men are struggling in education, mental health, and purpose, and that this matters for everyone, is strongly supported by broader UK and international evidence, even where some local Jersey numbers need tightening.

At the end of the letter I make some suggestions.

Boys have lost their sense of purpose

I have two grown-up sons and today boys are falling behind in school, uni-versity and in mental health and feeling a sense of purpose.

Male loneliness is rising. Male suicide is dramatically higher than female suicide.

Yet raising this subject feels controversial - as if problems faced by boys some-how diminish the real challenges faced by women and people of other gender identities and sexual orientations.

Society should care about all people. You cannot ignore the numbers.

Across developed countries women now outnumber men at university. In the UK around 57% of students are women. The 2021 Jersey Census shows 45% of women aged 16-64 hold higher-level qualifications compared with 40% of men. Education reports about Jersey consistently show girls outperforming boys at GCSE level. Men account for about 68% of suicides in Jersey. Men make up the majority of those receiving treatment for drug misuse and this is concentrated among young adult males.

I'm 65 and my generation grew up in a very different world.

Housing was affordable. Careers were clearer. Manual jobs were plentiful. University was optional. You could leave school, learn a trade and, build a life.

Higher education is now the gateway to most careers. Around 65% of workers in finance and legal services hold higher-level qualifications. At the same time, many of the traditional pathways into adulthood that once existed for boys have faded. Modern classrooms also favour traits where girls tend to develop earlier. Boys, on average, mature later and often learn better through movement, experimentation and practical problem solving.

For most of history that wasn’t a problem, because boys had multiple pathways into adulthood. Many now simply disengage.

And the consequences extend. As education gaps widen, birth rates decline. Places like Jersey - with high housing costs and a highly competitive professional economy - are not immune.

This is not a gender war. But when large numbers of men lose purpose, they don't simply disappear. They withdraw. Or self-destruct. Youth offending (Jersey): Up 30-35% in the past three years, with most offences involving boys aged 13-17. Truancy (Jersey): Rose from 10% in 2022 to 14% in 2024, with boys aged .13-16 most affected. Under-25s are over-represented among those not in education, employment, or training, and young men are more likely to be unemployed or on income support.

For most of history masculinity was about responsibility. We stopped telling boys where they are needed.

My Comments

Low reading engagement is one of the strongest predictors of boys’ under‑achievement. Programmes that give boys material they actually enjoy (non‑fiction, graphic novels, practical topics) and build daily reading habits make a measurable difference.

Lessons that build in movement, hands‑on tasks, and problem‑solving (projects, experiments, outdoor learning, technical work) tend to re‑engage boys who switch off in purely desk‑based, talk‑heavy classrooms. This isn’t magic, but it’s one of the few things consistently recommended across reviews.

Boys are more likely to be excluded, sanctioned, or labelled rather than understood. Training staff to see behaviour as a signal, often of struggle with literacy, attention, or home stress, reduces exclusions and keeps boys in learning.

When apprenticeships, trades, and technical education are funded, respected, and clearly linked to real wages and progression, disengaged boys reappear. The World Bank’s review of male under‑achievement is blunt: credible labour‑market routes are one of the strongest protective factors for boys and young men.

Boys hear a lot about what’s wrong with men and very little about where they are genuinely needed: care work, teaching, youth work, fatherhood, craftsmanship, public service. Naming those as honourable, modern forms of masculinity matters.

For further reading:
https://www.menandboyscoalition.org.uk/boys-and-young-mens-education-toolkit
https://www.apa.org/monitor/2023/04/boys-school-challenges-recommendations
https://documents1.worldbank.org/curated/en/111041644611110155/pdf/Educational-Underachievement-Among-Boys-and-Men.pdf

A Short Story: Searching for the Goodness of God

Modern worship songs like "Goodness of God" can be unexpectedly difficult for people who are hard of hearing because the musical and textual structure offers very few anchors. The long, unpatterned melodic lines mean there’s no predictable contour to anticipate, so singers who rely on partial hearing or lip‑reading can’t easily “feel” where the phrase is going. Irregular phrasing adds to the challenge: without a steady metrical pulse or balanced line lengths, the song becomes something you must already know rather than something you can join. This is a short story about that issue.

Searching for the Goodness of God

On a windswept Sunday morning at La Chapelle des Pas, the church gathered slowly, as it always did, with the familiar shuffle of coats and the soft thud of hymnbooks being set aside for the service sheets. Among them was Margaret Le Brocq, who had sung in that church for more than sixty years. She had a voice that once carried confidently through the nave, but now she relied on hearing aids that whistled at the wrong moments and missed half the consonants she needed.

She took her usual place near the front, close enough to see the vicar’s lips and far enough from the speakers to avoid the sudden bursts of sound that made her flinch. The opening hymn was one she loved, “How Great Thou Art”, metrical, steady, shaped like a well‑built granite wall. She could follow its rhythm even when she couldn’t hear every word. The congregation rose, and Margaret rose with them, her voice finding the familiar path of the melody.

But after the readings, the worship band stepped forward. A young guitarist smiled nervously, tapped his pedal, and began the opening chords of “Goodness of God”. The congregation murmured with recognition. Margaret braced herself.

The first verse unfurled in long, drifting lines. She watched the worship leader’s mouth, but the phrases were so extended, so uneven, that she couldn’t tell where one ended and the next began. The melody rose and fell without the predictable shape she depended on. She tried to join in, but her voice faltered, unsure of its footing.

By the chorus, the band swelled. The drums softened but still blurred the consonants she needed to anchor the words. The vowels stretched into a warm, indistinct wash. She could see the joy on the younger faces around her, but she felt herself slipping to the edges of the moment, as though she were watching worship rather than participating in it.

Then came the bridge, the emotional heart of the song. The worship leader closed her eyes, the band leaned into the swell, and the congregation lifted their hands. But for Margaret, the bridge was a fog. The words repeated, but without clear articulation, they became a loop she couldn’t enter. She didn’t know whether they were beginning again or ending or shifting into something new. She stood still, hands folded, feeling the distance widen.

When the song finally settled, the vicar stepped forward with a gentle prayer. Margaret exhaled. She wasn’t angry, she understood the sincerity, the devotion, the beauty others found in these songs. But she also felt the quiet ache of being left outside something meant to gather everyone in.

After the service, as people drifted toward coffee and biscuits, the guitarist approached her. “Mrs Le Brocq, did the music sound all right today?” he asked, earnest and hopeful.

She smiled kindly. “It was heartfelt,” she said. “But some of us need clearer paths to walk. The old hymns give us steps we can feel, even when we can’t hear them.”

He nodded, thoughtful. “I hadn’t considered that.”

“Most don’t,” she replied, placing a hand on his arm. “But worship is a shared table. Everyone should be able to find their place.”

As she walked out into the bright Jersey morning, the sea wind tugging at her coat, she felt no bitterness, only a quiet hope that the church she loved might learn to weave its music in ways that welcomed every voice, even the ones that could no longer hear the tune.

More evidence relating to Clifford Orange

Clifford Orange, the Chief Aliens Officer in Jersey during the German occupation, was actively involved in compiling and submitting lists of Jews to the German authorities from 1940 through at least late 1942. Historian Paul Sanders wrote: "Nowhere is the inability to think ‘outside the box’ better demonstrated than in the negative test case of the Jersey Aliens Officer, Clifford Orange. It is a well-established fact that the overzealous Orange exceeded what the Germans demanded of him. This is plainly clear in the fact that some of the people he registered as Jews need not have been registered at all – even under the terms of the German race laws. It is unclear whether his attitude was simply unthinking, unprofessional or downright racist, but its consequence was that people were subjected to discrimination and suffering that they could have been spared. Orange’s culture of blind obedience over humanitarianism also came to the fore when he found out that some of his staff had been providing escapees in the islands with fake documents. Orange declared that he would not tolerate such activity behind his back and put an immediate stop to it."

For a previous review see:
http://tonymusings.blogspot.com/2025/08/clifford-orange-and-war-time.html

Here I examine the defense of Orange under the "hindsight" argument and argue that it is too weak to exonerate him.

Here are some additional snippets:
https://www.liberationroute.com/pois/2261/stolperstein-in-honour-of-esther-loyd

Esther Pauline Lloyd was born in London on 31 July 1906 - she arrived in Jersey three years before the German Occupation began. Esther registered as a Jew after the First Order against the Jews was passed in October 1940. In February 1943, hundreds of Islanders were deported to the continent in the second wave of deportations from the Channel Islands.

Remarkably, Esther successfully appealed against her deportation and was repatriated to Jersey on 25 April 1944. Once back in Jersey and still under German occupation, Esther made a complaint to the Bailiff and informed the Chief Registration Office, Clifford Orange, that she:

‘was Catholic on my mother’s side…I went to register at the Aliens Office at the time an order was brought out concerning Jews as I am of Jewish origin on my Grandfather’s side only, I thought at the time it concerned me but if all the facts concerning myself had been fully explained to the German authorities, there would have been no question of my being sent away’.

Esther demanded to know ‘why these facts have been suppressed and wish the matter gone into’. 

Despite Clifford’s response that registration was the sole responsibility of the individual, she was not the only Jewish resident who recalled not being offered any choice in the matter. Hedwig Bercu felt the same. 

By chance, after Liberation, Clifford met Hedwig in St Helier, apologising for his actions stating ‘I had to follow German orders’.

A Short Story for Easter: Alleluia!

A Short Story for Easter: Alleluia!

The morning was cool, and the garden still held the hush of night. Mary Magdalene walked slowly, her steps uncertain. The stone had been rolled away, and the tomb was empty. She had come with spices, ready to honour the body, but now there was nothing to prepare. The silence felt wrong, as if the world had forgotten how to mourn.

She stood near the tomb, tears slipping down her cheeks. The memory of the cross was still fresh, the final breath, the broken body. She had watched from a distance, powerless, and now even the grave had been taken from her. She turned and saw a man nearby, walking within the garden. He asked her why she was weeping.

They spoke briefly, and she answered without truly seeing him. She saw a stranger, a face she could not recognise. Who was he? Perhaps a gardener? But then he said her name. Mary. And something shifted. Her heart leapt. She looked again, and her eyes were opened. It was him. Alive. Changed, yet unmistakable. She reached out, but he stepped back gently. Not yet, he said. The time would come, but not now.

She ran to tell the others, her voice trembling with joy and confusion. Some believed her. Others did not. But the story began to spread, like light creeping across the horizon.

Later that day, two disciples walked the road to Emmaus. The path was dusty, and their hearts were heavy. A stranger joined them, asking what they discussed. They told him everything, from the hope they had once held to the sorrow that now remained. He listened, then began to speak of the scriptures, weaving together words that stirred something deep within them.

They reached their destination and invited him to stay. At supper, he took the bread, blessed it, and broke it. In that moment, their eyes were opened. They saw him. Not as a stranger, but as the risen Lord. And then he was gone.

They sat in silence for a moment, then looked at each other. Did not our hearts burn within us? they asked. They felt no fear, only wonder. They rose and returned to Jerusalem, eager to share what they had seen.

In the days that followed, others saw him too. In gardens, on roads, behind locked doors. He came not with thunder, but with peace. He spoke of forgiveness, of love stronger than death. And when he was no longer seen in flesh, he remained in signs of faith.

Now, bread and wine carry his presence. Not as memory alone, but as living truth. Faith sees what eyes cannot. The Lord is risen. Truly, he is risen indeed.

A candle is lit, its flame steady against the wind. It stands as a witness, a light for every nation. The story continues, not in tombs, but in hearts. Not in endings, but in beginnings.

And in gardens, where sorrow once walked, joy now blooms.

The Last Sacrament

Many theologians who argue for footwashing as an occasional sacrament begin with the simple but weighty fact that Jesus explicitly commands it in John 13. Unlike many symbolic actions in the Gospels, this one comes with a direct imperative: “You also ought to wash one another’s feet.” That dominical command gives the practice a sacramental gravity that exceeds ordinary liturgical gestures, even if it does not rise to the universal normativity of Baptism and Eucharist.

It is a ritual of mutual vulnerability, reversal of status, and the restoration of dignity to the overlooked. It does not merely illustrate humility or reconciliation; it performs them. The washing of feet creates a moment of embodied belonging that words alone cannot achieve, and this performative quality strengthens the case for treating it as sacramental in character.

Its occasional nature is part of its power. Footwashing is most potent when a community is fractured, when a new ministry begins, when reconciliation is needed, or when a parish must remember the heart of discipleship. Like anointing, it gains sacramental force precisely because it is not routine. It appears at moments of need, not as a weekly obligation but as a timely, grace‑bearing act.

This poem sums up that position and was also inspired by foot washing at St Martin's Church Jersey.

The Last Sacrament

He kneels down, the servant king,
As angelic choirs softly sing;
With basin full, the water clean,
We know so well this loving scene;
The water gently poured and flowed
On the feet so dusty, worn on road,
And washed so kindly, so much love,
As Spirit descending like a dove;
A new commandment, love to you
Shown in sacrament, so we knew:
No pride, no ruler come with might,
Just the washing feet reveals sight,
Of gently washing, servant king,
As angelic choirs softly sing.

1986 - 40 years ago - April- Part 1

1986 - 40 years ago - April- Part 1

March 31—April 6

THE Home Secretary, Mr Douglas Hurd, arrives in the Island for a two-day visit. In a speech to the States he reaffirms the UK Government's intention to maintain the existing constitutional arrangements between the mainland and the Channel Islands and he thanks Jersey for the contribution it will make to the UK defence budget.

The former headmistress of St Helier Girls School, Miss Gwendoline Harris, dies at Overdale Hospital, aged 68.

Centenier Peter Pearce breaks down in tears at the Town Hall after being re-elected to serve a further term in office. The incident occurs only hours after an official call for him to resign is made public because of his seven-week suspension from duty.

An elderly woman, 79-year-old Mrs Doris Collas, is killed when she is knocked over by a car as she crosses the road near Osborne Court on St Aubin's Inner Road.

The new Relief Magistrate, Advocate T. A. Dorey, makes it clear when he sits for the first time in the Police Court that offenders found guilty of assault on security officers can expect to be dealt with severely. Advocate Dorey sentences 22-year-old Thomas Coburn to two months in jail for an assault on a security officer at Funland.

There is support for the Jersey Evening Post's findings on inflated oil prices from Mr Ian Parker, the owner of the Hotel de France. Mr Parker's support for the JEP's criticism of local oil companies is based on a survey he carried out in the UK.

 

April 7-13

EARLY potatoes suffer severe damage when a severe ground frost hits the Island. It is estimated that 90 per cent of the crop is affected when temperatures at night fall to minus 8°C.

Senator Dick Shenton tables questions in the States because he says that local people seeking to buy homes are being "swamped" by essential employees who can borrow money at low rates of interest.

The Bailiff, Mr Peter Crill, suggests that Special Constables should be recruited to combat summer violence in St Helier, but senior representatives of the Honorary Police say that this is not necessary.

The Agriculture and Fisheries Committee are asked to allow 80 vergees of the foreshore at St Catherine, Grouville Bay and Le Hocq to be used for oyster farming. Agriculture's chief officer, Mr John Abraham, says that there will be talks about the issue with the Island Development Committee and Tourism.

Repairs costing £20,000 are to be carried out at Green Street car park because of signs of serious deterioration in the concrete of which it is made.

A full report into the circumstances of the death of 18-year-old Miss Trudy Sargent are called for at the General Hospital. Miss Sargent's parents, who live in Sheffield, consider suing over their daughter's death because they allege she was refused admission to the hospital even though she was very ill with meningitis.

“Not My Thing” — A Maundy Thursday Encounter

This dialogue was written in 2025, and I wanted to reflect how washing feet takes some clergy out of their comfort zone, and yet Pope Francis went to prisons to wash feet, including the feet of 12 women.

In 2024, as Pope Francis poured water over their feet, dried them with a towel and kissed their feet, 12 women inmates at Rome's Rebibbia prison wept.... By washing his disciples' feet, Jesus humbles himself, the pope said. "With this gesture, he makes us understand what he had said, 'I came not to be served but to serve.' He teaches us the path of service."

"Not My Thing" — A Maundy Thursday Encounter

Setting: A dimly lit chancel. Candles flicker along the altar rail. The congregation has gone home. The vicar, Rev. Joel, is tidying up the communion vessels. Suddenly, a figure appears in the doorway—barefoot, robe dusty, eyes radiant.

Jesus:
You kept the table.

Rev. Joel (startled):
I—yes. We shared bread and wine. The sermon was strong. People were moved.

Jesus (stepping forward):
And the basin?

Rev. Joel (hesitating):
Ah. No basin this year. I’ve never really connected with that part. It’s not… my thing.

Jesus (gently):
Not your thing.
Yet it was mine.

Rev. Joel (defensive):
I mean—it’s symbolic, isn’t it? We talked about service. I preached John 13. The theology was solid.

Jesus (kneeling beside the empty credence table):
I didn’t preach it. I did it.
I bent low. I touched the dust.
I washed what others ignored.

Rev. Joel (softening):
I know. But people feel awkward. Some don’t want their feet touched. It’s messy. Vulnerable.

Jesus (looking up):
Exactly.
It’s the awkwardness that makes it holy.
The vulnerability that makes it mine.

Rev. Joel:
I’m trying to build something here. The parish was struggling. I’ve brought energy, music, young families. We’re growing again.

Jesus (rising):
Growth is good.
But what grows when the least are left unwashed?

Rev. Joel (quietly):
I didn’t mean to exclude anyone.

Jesus (walking slowly to the font):
There was a woman tonight—hard of hearing. She watched the liturgy unfold, lips moving, gestures unclear.
She longed for touch.
Not performance.
Not polish.
Just presence.

Rev. Joel (voice cracking):
I didn’t see her.

Jesus (placing hand on the font rim):
She saw you.
And she wondered if the water had dried up.

Rev. Joel:
I thought I was making it more accessible. Less pressure. Less discomfort.

Jesus:
Comfort is not the command.
Love is.
And love kneels.

Rev. Joel (sitting on the front pew):
I didn’t know how to do it well.
I feared doing it wrong.

Jesus (sitting beside him):
Then do it broken.
Do it clumsy.
Do it with trembling hands.
But do it.

Rev. Joel (tears forming):
Would you show me?

Jesus (smiling):
I already did.
But I’ll show you again.

[Jesus walks to the sacristy and returns with a small basin and towel. He places them at the vicar’s feet.]

Jesus:
Start here.
Not with the perfect liturgy.
Not with the clever sermon.
Start with the feet.
Start with the ones who feel unseen.
Start with the water.

Rev. Joel (removing his shoes):
I’m not ready.

Jesus (kneeling):
Neither were they.
But I washed them anyway.

[He begins to wash Joel’s feet—slowly, reverently. The silence is thick with grace.]

Jesus (as he dries the feet):
Next year, let the basin speak.
Let the water do the preaching.
Let the towel be your theology.

Rev. Joel (whispering):
I will.

Jesus (rising, preparing to leave):
Then I’ll see you at the basin.

Wreck resurfaces at Corbiere

The recent stormy weather has loosened an old shipwreck from the sea bed. Go to Corbiere to see it. It is amazing!

Jersey Gazette, 14th October 1837

"A grievous wreck hath occurred off La Corbière: the brig Celestine, bound from Lisbon, was dashed upon the rocks in tempestuous seas. All hands perished. The lighthouse keepers report timbers strewn and sails rent asunder."

A Short Story: Faith and the Margins

Faith and the Margins

A salt‑stained wind moved in from the Channel as the congregation filed out of St Anne’s, the little flint‑and‑cream church perched above the harbour in Trewissick. 

It was late summer in 1996 in Cornwall, the sort of Sunday when the hymn boards still smelled faintly of polish and the cassette player in the vestry wheezed its way through the final bars of “Be Thou My Vision.”

The Reverend Margaret Ellison had preached with her usual soft, earnest cadence. Near the end she had leaned forward over the pulpit, hands resting on the green felt edge, and offered the lines she had been polishing all week:

“So if you’re feeling a bit marginalised for whatever reason, or you know people who are, know that Jesus’ love reaches that far. Jesus’ love reaches infinitely far. Not only that, but we often see that Jesus has got a particular soft spot for those on the edge.”

People nodded. A few dabbed their eyes. The churchwarden whispered that it was “one of her better ones.” Margaret smiled, receiving the praise as though it were a warm shawl.

But in the porch, as the last hymn sheets were being gathered, she spotted Ruth Harding waiting for her. Ruth, once a lively lay reader, now walked with a stick after a stroke the previous winter. Her speech was slower, her right hand curled inward like a sleeping bird.

“Margaret,” Ruth said, “I wondered if I might help again with the midweek service. Even just reading the intercessions. I miss it terribly.”

Margaret’s expression tightened almost imperceptibly. She glanced at her watch, an old digital Casio whose beeps always sounded too loud in the vestry.

“Oh, Ruth… I’m so terribly busy these days. The parish council, the youth group, the new stewardship campaign. I simply can’t take on the extra burden of supporting you in ministry right now. It would be too much for me.” She touched Ruth’s arm lightly, as if that softened the words. “Perhaps it’s best if you step back for the time being.”

Ruth nodded, though her eyes clouded. She turned away slowly, the rubber tip of her stick tapping the stone floor like a metronome.

Inside, the lay reader, Peter Lacey, was folding his notes for next Sunday’s sermon. He had laid out his cassock and surplice on a chair, brushing off a few stray threads.

Margaret paused in the doorway. “Peter, I meant to say, don’t wear robes next week.”

He looked up, startled. “Not wear? But I always do when preaching.”

“Yes, well,” she said, smoothing her skirt, “I don’t believe in all that dressing up. It distracts people. Just come as you are. A jumper and trousers will do perfectly well.”

Peter hesitated, then nodded, folding the cassock away with a care that made the fabric seem suddenly fragile.

Outside, the gulls wheeled over the harbour, their cries sharp against the hum of a distant ice‑cream van playing its high-pitched, electronic chime version of “Greensleeves.” It was a first warning to children to run for their pocket money to buy Mr Whippy. Holidaymakers wandered leisurely along the promenade, unaware of the small fractures forming inside the parish that prided itself on welcome.

Margaret locked the vestry door and walked briskly toward the vicarage, her sermon notes tucked under her arm. The words she had spoken from the pulpit still rang in the air behind her, warm and expansive.

But the wind carried other truths too, quieter, more uncomfortable ones, drifting like sea mist through the narrow lanes of the Cornish seaside town, waiting for someone to notice.

The Sadness of Palm Sunday

A short story based on a poem I wrote many years ago.

The Sadness of Palm Sunday

The city had been restless for days, as if the very stones beneath Jerusalem sensed something approaching. Rumours moved through the streets faster than the spring wind—rumours of a teacher from Galilee, a healer, a prophet, perhaps even more. Some dismissed the talk as festival excitement. Others whispered with a trembling hope they barely dared name.

Levi, a young market seller, stood at the edge of the road leading down from the Mount of Olives. He had come early, before the crowds thickened, drawn by a strange mixture of curiosity and longing. His mother had told him stories since childhood, stories of a king who would come gentle and victorious, riding not a warhorse but a donkey. He had always imagined such a moment would blaze with certainty. Yet now, as he waited, he felt only the ache of questions.

Around him, people gathered with palm branches cut from the groves nearby. Children ran ahead, waving fronds like banners. Old men leaned on their staffs, eyes bright with memories of promises long deferred. Women murmured prayers under their breath. The air shimmered with anticipation.

Then someone shouted, “He’s coming!”

A ripple passed through the crowd. Levi craned his neck.

Down the slope came a man seated on a young donkey. Nothing about him was grand. His robe was dusty from travel. His face was lined, not with age, but with the weight of something deep and unspoken. Yet there was a gentleness in his gaze that seemed to meet each person as if he already knew them.

“Hosanna!” the people cried. “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”

Palms swept the air. Cloaks were thrown onto the road to soften the donkey’s steps. Levi felt the shout rise in his own throat before he could stop it. Something in the man’s presence stirred a hope he had tried for years to bury.

But as the procession drew closer, Levi noticed something the others did not. The man’s eyes, dark, steady, searching, held a sorrow that did not belong to a triumphant king. It was the sorrow of someone who knew the cost of the path before him.

Levi stepped back as the donkey passed. For a heartbeat, the man looked directly at him. Levi felt exposed, as if the stranger saw not only his face but the whole tangle of his life: his disappointments, his fears, his longing for deliverance he could barely admit.

The man gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. Not of reassurance, but of recognition.

The crowd surged forward, singing louder, waving palms with fierce joy. “Hosanna in the highest!”

Yet Levi could not shake the feeling that their joy was balanced on the edge of a knife. They wanted a liberator who would restore their land, break Rome’s grip, make Israel strong again. But the man on the donkey carried no banner, no sword. Only a quiet resolve that seemed to lead not toward a throne, but toward something darker.

As the procession moved into the city, Levi remained where he was, the palm branch limp in his hand. The shouts faded into the distance.

He did not know what would happen next. But he knew, without fully understanding how, that the man who had passed him would indeed be crowned. And the crown would not be the one the crowd imagined.

The prophecy was unfolding. And joy and sorrow were walking into Jerusalem side by side.

The Triumphant Champion

Inspired by Glen Scrivener's 321 Course when he presents Jesus as "The Champion", a footballer who wins game and says to the crowd and team "That's one for you", a reflection on how Palm Sunday might be rewritten with Glen's footballer Champion instead.

Fall of The Triumphant Champion

He was the Champion on the Football pitch
Came from the backwoods to kick the ball
Despised by the elite, pompous, the rich
Who watched just waiting for him to fall

He was our Champion, on our losing team
Winning all goals, turned fortunes around
How the crowd roared. It was a dream
The goals for us and the cheering sound.

He was our Champion, but then a red card
Led away disgraced to boos of the crowd
He was scorned, reviled, forever scarred
While the team just hid away, all cowed

I remember old days, hurrahs all singing
Palms clapping, and praises ringing

A Look back at 1985: Thackeray's Club and Restaurant

Now long demolished, this was part of Jersey’s thriving night club scene.

From the Islander, September 1985

 
Thackeray's Club and Restaurant
58/59 Esplanade
St Helier

Thackeray's upstairs disco and small restaurant has been part of the St Helier scene for many years, but in July, under new management, the now completely transformed club and separate downstairs restaurant emerged from its chrysalis as Jersey's newest and certainly most spectacular venue.

What a transformation! The lovely 30s decor has been carried out with perfect taste and tremendous style, both in the spacious upstairs disco and the trendy downstairs restaurant with its cocktail bar, tiny, comfortable lounge area and spacious restaurant with lots of greenery and flowers, plus picture windows looking out on to the Esplanade.

The service is faultless — pretty girls who seem really to care — and under the watchful, expert eye of manager Antonio Mileti. The food is outstanding and although not cheap, a tremendous amount of care and expertise has been lavished on the preparation. Toni's presentation of food has always been rather special, but in this new restaurant he has created some really superb dishes. The result is the most imaginative menu I have seen in a long time —for instance, many dishes are served with wild rice (almost un-heard of on the Island), long, slim grains of rice (a mixture of light and dark shoots) giving a deliciously crisp, crunchy taste.

One of Toni's specialities is Chateaubriand du Veau Bouquetiere (a fillet of veal for two people in a sauce of Muscadet wine, cream and spring onions, garnished with sauted mushrooms). Another is a whole fillet of lamb cooked with herbs de Provence, flambeed in white wine with wild mushrooms and finished with a mint and cranberry sauce. There are lots of other dishes, equally imaginative and all guaranteed to get your taste buds jumping with delight!

As a starter I chose Poires Mascharpone (fresh pears with an Italian cheese and watercress dressing), which was superb, followed by Filet de Sole Renoise (poached fillet of sole in a Champ-agne sauce, packed with large pieces of fresh lobster) — the beau¬tifully arranged dish of fresh vegetables included mangetout, tiny carrots, broccoli, cauliflower and small potatoes in their jackets. The wines are excellent and the coffee praiseworthy, as only Italian coffee can be! Incidentally, all pasta dishes are cooked individually at the table.

The restaurant is open seven days a week — lunch is from noon to 2.30 p.m., dinner is 7.30 to 11 p.m. after which late suppers are available to disco patrons who get peckish! There are two special menus for Sunday lunches — one is excellent value at £4.50 plus 10 per cent, and the other (with fantastic choice) is at £7.50 plus 10 per cent.

This bright new venue, with its Art Nouveau decor, would seem to be especially useful for lunchtimes, situated as it is on the promenade in the heart of St Helier.

Adverts on Same page

A Short History of Guernsey: The Constitution of Guernsey

A Short History of Guernsey: The Constitution of Guernsey

From the Channel Islands Directory, 1981. I have kept in the adverts on the pages as they are rather fun, and also added a codicil bringing the position up to date.

The Constitution of Guernsey

In Roman times a rough and ready form of Government prob-ably existed in Guernsey in the form of the Gallic tribal moot; island chieftains were probably subject to discipline by the Roman consular or pretorian legate in Constantia (the modern town of Coutanches).

In the Dark Ages and until long after the Norman colonisation of Northern France, small communities of inhabitants on the island probably had no allegiance to anyone, and were ruled over by a head man.

In pre-Norman Conquest times the Channel Islands together formed one of the seven great bailiwicks of Normandy, and each island was controlled by a warden or custodian representing the Duke or his fief-holders. Local government, such as it was, took place at small feudal courts.

At a date unknown, but between 1066 and 1216, a King's Court was established in Guernsey; a Charter of the reign of King John (circa 1213) confirms the existence of a Royal Court and Twelve Jurats in the island of Guernsey. The original Charter is lost but a 13th century copy of it exists in the records of the Tower of London. The King was represented from 1204 to 1470 by a "Warden of the Isles" responsible for both Jersey and Guernsey, but later a Captain or Governor was appointed to each island, and from those times stems the present day office of Lieut-Governor.

It was the duty of the Lieut-Governor to look after 'military affairs and all matters appertaining to the Crown', and it was the function of the Royal Court of Jurats to administer the island's civil matters. Towards the end of the 15th century the Royal Court had co-opted the services of the rectors of the ten parishes of the island together with other men called Constables drawn from the `douzaines' or parish councils, and this enlarged body thus constituted became "the states", 'les etats' (the estates) exactly on a pattern with the system operating in France before the Revolution. The three "estates" comprised 'the nobility, the clergy and the third estate.

 

The body making the laws also judged the laws; there has never entirely been a 'separation of powers' of the legislative, the executive and the judiciary under the Guernsey constitution.

In the 18th century conflict arose between the 'old guard', the members of the Royal Court, and the clergy and constables. The latter contended that the Jurats had no right to participate in the making of laws and in the government. But this opposition died down and the constables had to content themselves with the voting of money only.

Reform came at the end of the 18th century when St. Peter Port parish was given larger representation in the States.

More reforms came in 1846 resulting from recommendations of a Select Committee of the Privy Council. The Parish Constables in the States were replaced by chosen 'delegates' and six extra seats were awarded to St. Peter Port parish because that parish contributed more than two-thirds of the island's revenue.

In 1899 a further Reform Law was passed adding eighteen People's Deputies to the States, serving for a period of three years and elected by limited franchise. After the First World War the franchise was widened so that non-ratepayers as well as ratepayers had the right to vote. Women over the age of thirty also qualified to vote.

Two years after the Second World War came more agitation for reform. A Royal Commission set up to examine the constitution of Guernsey, made recommendations for drastic change. Jurats and Rectors were banished from the States. 

The office of "Conseiller" was set up; 12 wise men, indirectly elected, forming a sort of Upper House. The number of People's Deputies was increased to 33 elected on the basis of universal adult suffrage. Thus under the Reform Law of 1948 the directly elected representatives now having a majority in the States of Deliberation and Guernsey is slowly coming into line with other democratically governed countries.

Her Majesty's representative in the island, His Excellency the Lieut-Governor, has a seat in the States; he may speak but he has no vote. 'The two Crown Law Officers, Her Majesty's Procureur and HM Comptroller, speak on matters of law but do not vote. Two representatives of the island of Alderney speak and vote only on matters relating to their own island. Sark and Herm have no representatives in Guernsey's legislative assembly.

My Update to Modern Times

While the Reform (Guernsey) Law 1948 remains the "basic constitution," several "drastic changes" have evolved since the 1981 description. As of March 2026, the States of Deliberation operates with the following structure:

1. Composition of the States

The 1948 concept of "Conseillers" (the 12 indirectly elected "wise men") was abolished in 2000 to move toward a more direct democracy.

People's Deputies: The number has increased from the 33 mentioned to 38 Deputies. Since 2020, they are no longer elected by parish districts but via a fully island-wide electoral system.

Alderney Representatives: There are still two representatives from the States of Alderney. Crucially, they now have the right to speak and vote on all matters (both Bailiwick-wide and Guernsey-only), not just those relating to their own island.

Bailiff: Continues to serve as the President of the States and the island’s chief justice.

2. Governance and Executive Power

Guernsey has moved away from a purely committee-based system toward a more centralized executive: Policy & Resources Committee. Established in 2016, this is the senior committee of the government, responsible for coordinating policy, external affairs, and the Government Work Plan.
Parish Representation: The Douzaine representatives (one from each of the 10 parishes) previously had seats in the States of Deliberation but lost their seats and voting rights following further reforms in 2004 to ensure all voting members were directly elected.

A Short History of Guernsey

This is taken from the Channel Islands Directory, 1981. I have retained the adverts which punctuate the pages.

A Short History of Guernsey

Guernsey, the second largest of the Anglo-Norman or Channel Islands, is situated almost in the centre of the Great Bay of Avranches, that corner of the English Channel embraced by the Cherbourg and Brittany peninsulas. Only 28 miles from Cap Flamanville on the Normandy coast, Guernsey is important as the administrative and communications centre of its Bailiwick which comprises the outlying islands of Alderney, Sark, Herm, Jethou and Brechou.

Guernsey is nearly in the shape of a right angled triangle, about thirty miles around the coast, with an area of 25 square miles; it is noted for the friendliness of its inhabitants, the neatness of its dwellings and the number of its winding, twisting roads. Its population at the 1971 census was 51,351, which is only a comparatively small increase on the figure at the turn of the century.

The earliest inhabitants were men of the later Stone Age and Bronze Age and evidence of what is thought to be their settlements and religious cults are to be found in the numerous dolmens and monoliths dotted over the island, particularly on the west coast and in the low lying areas of L'Ancresse in the north. Numerous objects were unearthed in these graves by F. C. Lukis and T. D. Kendrick.

 

Almost nothing is known of Roman influence on the islands of the Guernsey Bailiwick. Some experts believe that parts of the Jerbourg "lines" were thrown up by Roman galley crews as a fortified shore-base, and Roman coins have also been dug up from the foundations of a building in St. Peter Port. Such coins were the daily currency of the Gallo Romano traders who sailed over from Normandy.

The Roman name for Guernsey was almost certainly `Lisia' (vide transactions of La Societe Guernesaise 1962); it was not Sarnia as is commonly supposed.

In the 6th century St. Sampson, a Breton saint and missionary, came to the island of Lesia, the Lisia of the Antonine Itinerary. In Lesia, it was recorded, he preached to a considerable congrega¬tion. His church was established on the northern tip of the island. A Celtic legend relates that monks who followed St. Sampson set about christianizing the numerous pagan stones-of-worship by im¬printing them with the cross.

By the first half of the 10th century several village settle-ments had been established : at Les Camps, St. Martin's, Val au Bourg, Le Bourg, Forest, Trinity, St. Peter Port, La Fontaine and Anneville in St. Sampson's, and Les Buttes, St. Saviour's. These hamlets were surrounded by corn land and from them and their natural territorial confines have developed five of the island parishes. 

These five parishes, St. Martin, Forest, St. Saviour, St. Peter Port, St. Sampson were in existence in the 9th century A.D. Their inhabitants were Celtic rather than Norman, dark haired rather than blond, short rather than tall, speaking a language akin to Gaelic. At the same time the Northmen or Normans in long ships were attacking Normandy and in 911 A.D. the King of France acceded half of that vast province to Rollo, the leader of the Vikings. Rollo was given the whole of the north shore region of Nenstria, nearest to the islands.

Twenty years later Rollo's son, William Longspear, attacked and conquered Brittany and incorporated the islands of Guernsey, Alderney and Sark into his possessions.

In the second half of the 10th century the remaining Guernsey parishes came into existence so that for administrative purposes the island was divided into ten units each with a douzaine or parish council.

In 1055 William, Duke of Normandy granted by charter to the abbey of Marmontier near Tours six of Guernsey's parish churches: "ecclesia Sancti Petri de Portu, ecclesia Sancti Andee de Patenti Pomerio, ecclesia Sancti Martini de la Berlosa, ecclesia Sancti Marie de Tortevalle, ecclesia Sancti Sampsonis Episcopi, et ecclesia Sancti Trinitatis de Foresta".

 

Probably about the time of the Norman Conquest of England Guernsey became subdivided into manorial feifs. More than one hundred such administrative enclaves are known to have existed and seventy have survived to the present day. Some of the followers of the Counts of Normandy and other influential Norman abbots were rewarded by the grants of fiefs in Guernsey from which they could levy taxes. Each fief had its own Seigneural Court at which rough justice was administered. To this day the Seigneurs of the Fiefs in Guernsey enjoy some special financial privileges so that manorial properties are much sought after by speculators and estate agents.

William the Conqueror defeated the English at Hastings in 1066, and so the Duke of Normandy became King William I of England. But it was Henry I in 1106 who was emphatically the first sovereign of these islands. He had ruled the islands as Compte du Cotentin before he acceded to the throne and he had a personal knowledge of the islands. In 1111 he made a new grant to St. Sampson's church to enlarge the building already erected in 1055. Peace and good government prevailed in Guernsey until the revolt of the Norman barons in 1204.

During the reign of King John in 1204 Guernsey possessed a small garrison. This garrison, under Peter de Preaux, gave help to John in his effort to crush the Baron's rebellion. When John had lost Normandy his Channel Islands were in the hands of a licensed free-booter named Eustace le Moine who had been com¬missioned by the King at Gillingham. This monkish adventurer was unreliable. He was replaced by Philip d'Aubigny, a worthy supporter of King John, and thus the islands were retained for the Crown, and have remained British ever since.

 

Throughout four long centuries the legal disposition of the Channel Islands was in dispute between Britain and France, both countries laying claim to them, and the French made several savage attacks on Guernsey. During the 78 years from 1295 to 1373 the island was attacked eight times. Raiders burned the town of St. Peter Port, its church and houses and standing crops. Enemy oc¬cupation lasted two years on one occasion.

In 1373 Yvan de Galles, a Welsh prince serving under Charles V of France attacked Guernsey with a mixed army of Spaniards and Welsh, landing at Vazon Bay. His army was defeated and he himself drowned while attempting to flee.

There are records of attacks on Guernsey in Henry IV's reign and again in Henry VI's reign a Guernsey naval force was much praised for its skilful attack on a French fleet in which five hundred prisoners were taken.

Two ancient Charters dated 1465 and 1468 bear testimony to the reliability of Guernseymen : "how valiantly, manfully and steadfastly the said peoples and communities of the said islands of Guernsey, Sark and Alderney have stood out for us" wrote the Royal hand at Westminster.

In 1483 a copy of the Papal Bull signed by Pope Sixtus IV was nailed to the doors of Canterbury cathedral and simultaneously affixed to the door of the Church of St. Peter Port, Guernsey. This document declared the Channel Islands neutral and threatened ex-communication on anyone who should violate them.

 

In the year 1564 Queen Elizabeth I transferred Guernsey from the bishopric of Coutances in Normandy to the bishopric of the Protestant See of Winchester and from that time the Roman Catholic Church lost its influence over the island.

Guernsey played a dual role in the Civil War, 1642-1651. Grievances against Charles I who owed a debt of £4,000 to islanders, the tyranny of the Governor, Sir Peter Osborne and the widespread teaching of French Calvinism had the combined effect of forcing the people of Guernsey into the Parliamentarian camp. The members of the States themselves were doubtful about the validity of the Parliamentarian cause. Parliament had sacked the Bailiff, set up a body of 12 commissioners to replace the Royal Court of Guernsey and sent an expedition of 500 Parliamentary soldiers to the island. The Parliamentarians, although not popular with the poorer people, remained in control of Guernsey until the Restoration of Charles II in 1660. Then the prominent men of the island speedily petitioned the King acknowledging their guilt and craving pardon.

 

Throughout the eighteenth century Guernsey was on a war footing, living constantly under fear of invasion. By the end of the century there were in the island sixteen forts of various sizes, fourteen Martello towers, and 58 batteries, but although in 1794 many islanders witnessed Admiral Lord de Saumarez's thrilling naval action off the west coast the French never again made a serious attempt at landing.

The Victorian accession ushered in a period of calm and contentment. Guernsey, which had prospered greatly in the 18th century due to the profits of privateering, became even more prosperous. On Monday, 24th August, 1846, Her Majesty Queen Victoria and Prince Albert visited Guernsey. The Queen was welcomed by the Lieut-Governor, Major General Napier, members of the States of Guernsey, and an "assemblage of some seventy young ladies belonging to the principal families, who were mostly arrayed in white." The Royal Guernsey Militia and the regular garrison, some 2,500 soldiers were on parade. It was a grand occasion, the first time that a reigning sovereign had visited the island since the age of King John. On departure Her Majesty "expressed her entire satisfaction with the arrangements made."

During the First World War, the Royal Guernsey Militia, the island's trained band that traces its history back to the Hundred Years War, was temporarily formed into a light infantry battalion. Men whose ancestors, some claim, saw service with William the Conqueror's knights at Hastings, once again fought for king and country at Ypres, Cambrai and Passchendale.

The Nazi tyrant Adolf Hitler cast his greedy eyes on Guernsey. In June 1940 a small German airborne force captured the island without a shot being fired and for five years the peaceful inhabi¬tants endured the rigours of a hateful occupation. Memories of this nightmare still endure in the minds of those who suffered, but time has healed most of the wounds, and the only visible scars that remain are the towers of steel and concrete around our coasts, monuments to a madman's folly that will stand for a thousand years.

The End.