Queen of all the Tinkers....

The Tale of Nancy Myles…..

 

Daniel Myles could trace his ancestors back to before the time when Oliver Cromwell (curse and spit at the mention of his name), in the 17^th century, came over from England and kicked all the Irish farmers and smallholders off their lands in the most fertile counties.  He is quoted as telling them to ‘Go to Hell or to Connaught’.  His family had moved from their fairly substantial and fertile land to the West of Ireland but the land there only seemed to grow bigger rocks and few crops.  Although most of his relatives had taken to the roads to survive, many of them remained in and around Galway.

Mary O’Connor, his wife, could also trace her family back to the same time but as with Daniel, there were no records to vouch for their family heritage, instead the details were passed down from father to son, or daughter in this case, generation after generation.

She had married Daniel in an unusually quiet ceremony at the Parish Church in Durrow, County Laois, on a fine June summer’s day in 1950. Although they did not think themselves any better than other tinkers, they were not the types of people to waste money on such festivities. They were highly respected among the Tinker fraternity and the many farmers that they had worked for at harvest time over the years. Both sets of parents bought them a new caravan and a fine three-year-old horse. Other family friends helped to furnish it.

On the 1^st day of June 1953, they were blessed with a healthy daughter. She was Baptised Nancy Mary Myles. Dan was always boasting that she was a true Queen the day before Queen Elizabeth was crowned in London. In fact they both treated her as if she was the Queen of All the Tinker Clans.

Her mother taught her how to read and the ways of the road and whenever they were busy as casual workers harvesting in a particular area, Mary always managed to get Nancy into the local village school for a few weeks at a time. They followed the harvesting and planting throughout Ireland and occasionally during really hard times, Dan would travel to Scotland for the potato picking. It was hard work but brought in a little money.

When Nancy was five years old, her mother contacted Tuberculosis and was bedridden for many weeks. She would occasionally seem to be better but always ended up worse than she was before. She died on Christmas Week in 1958 with Nancy holding one hand and Dan the other.

Dan was completely broken-hearted and although Nancy was only five, she took it upon herself at that early age to ‘look after Dan ‘till the day he died’.

Nancy was quick to learn and at every opportunity she would watch other travelling girls and women cooking the main midday meal. She became an expert at making do with very little. Dan worshipped the ground she walked upon and her feelings of love for him were no less......................

He trusted her implicitly and when she was no more than thirteen years old, he often came home to find some of the tinker boys sitting around the caravan making eyes at his daughter. She was always pleasant and mannerly towards them but was too busy looking after her father.

When she was eighteen, many young single men of the travelling people would call on Dan and seek his permission to visit Nancy. His answer was always the same – "Ask Nancy yourself".

Nancy had learned the art of dressmaking from another travelling woman and she was always immaculately dressed. She had grown into a stunningly beautiful woman who was the envy of both men and women of the travelling folk.

Her beauty always preceded her wherever they went and people would stand on the pavement of villages through which they travelled. She had a beautiful smile for everyone and rapidly became known for her beauty throughout the whole of Ireland.

On one occasion when they were camped on the outskirts of Ballinasloe on horse-fair day, several arguments broke out among the young men about who was the most beautiful tinker woman of them all. There were many fights to prove the point...............

Whenever news came to Nancy that some old travelling folk were ill, Nancy would get Dan to make a detour in order that she visit them and do whatever she could to help them. She had learned the art of herbal medicine making and her expertise was sought far and wide. As she grew older, not only did she become more beautiful and sought after, she also developed a serene aura about her.

It was in October 1974 when Dan, while fishing in a swollen river, fell in and caught pneumonia. All efforts by Nancy to cure him were of no avail. She even drove the horse and caravan to the local village and paid good money to see the local doctor but all the medicine in the world could not halt what was about to happen. Dan died at the stroke of midnight on the last day of the month..........................

Nancy was totally devastated and heart-broken. She immediately began to lose interest in life in general. She kept herself to herself and would not entertain callers. When Dan was buried in the local cemetery she did no more but drove the caravan out into the countryside, released the horse into a field and then set fire to the caravan. She had read somewhere many years before that this was what should be done.......................

 She disappeared out of sight and all the efforts of friends and extended family to trace her throughout Ireland failed. It was as if she had never existed. She was never seen or heard of again..............

Since that day, at every horse-fair within and without Ireland, where tinkers congregate, stories are told of Nancy and the love that she had for her old father Dan. The deeds she accomplished in her life have grown in the telling but there is little or no doubt, that tinker generations in the future will continue to sing the praises of Nancy Myles, the Queen of all the Tinkers……………

-----------------------------

Suggested by an old Irish Tinker song:

The Tale of Nancy Myles….

Nancy was a tinker girl, who roamed the country roads,

And I will tell you how she came to be a legend in her time,

And the reason I have come to know, is because a tinker told me so,

And who was there to better know the tale of Nancy Myles.

Nancy’s father, Tinker Dan, he was a poor but honest man,

Drove a horse-drawn caravan, all through the Emerald Isle,

And when Nancy was no more a child, well Dan, he didn’t have the time,

Men would come from far and wide, to be with Nancy Myles.

Before the age of 21, a hundred men had come and gone,

But none of them could win the gleam of love that was in her eyes,

And sure any man who loved her then, he never was the same again,

His memory was haunted, with thoughts of Nancy Myles.

In every town and village too, the fame of Nancy grew and grew,

Soon her name was spoken, around many a camp fireside,
And at Ballinasloe, on horsefair day, when every tinker had his say,

Many a fight was fought to win, the court of Nancy Myles.

But I hope that you don’t get me wrong, for Nancy was the sweetest one,
Heart so full of kindness, and as charming as her smile,

She was known throughout the land, as queen of all the tinker clans,

It was the dream of every man, to marry Nancy Myles.

Before the age of 31, a thousand men had come and gone,

But none of them could win the gleam of love that was in her eyes,

And sure any man who loved her then, he never was the same again,

His memory was haunted, with thoughts of Nancy Myles.

But then there came the saddest day, when Nancy’s father passed away,

The loss it grieved her dearly, for he was her only pride,

Family friends and courting men, they never saw her smile again,

A change had taken place within the heart of Nancy Myles.

Before the age of 41, Nancy she had come and gone,

They searched the country over, but not a trace of her they found,

But Nancy’s memory will live on, as long as tinker men are born,

Proudly they will sing this song, of tinker, Nancy Myles.

-------------------------

A version of the song can be heard on the following link: 

http://youtube.com/watch?v=0Zl-qwI97Is

----------Mike---------

At Times Like These.......

An Old Woman of the Roads…..

I am not an old ‘softy’ nor am I 'as hard as old nails', but I choose to ignore rough sleepers, vagrants and beggars.   I prefer to make charitable donations to the Salvation Army knowing that any cash given goes to help the least of our society and not into the hands of drug suppliers or sellers of alcohol.  There are numerous charitable organizations that feed the first mentioned on a daily basis.

I have seen it over the years in London and learned early that the truly poor are the people who deserve our help.   Be it that they are ‘too proud to ask for assistance’, claim what is rightfully theirs or in fact ask for help, they become tragic victims of every problem in our society.

With the present Coronavirus sweeping the world, those same unfortunates will be the most common early victims.   They do not have mobile phones and computers to be a part of the welfare system via the digital age.

The story of Mary – the old woman of the road, goes back a few years in my police career but it is one that will resound thousands of times over the coming months, if not years.

Please look after them – as in many cases, they cannot look after themselves……..

---------------

 

When I came to London in 1966 and joined the police, I soon learned that there were numerous people who wandered the streets and slept rough in park shelters or wherever they could find a little respite from the winter wind, frost, snow and rain.

There were of course Government sponsored ‘places of shelter’ but they would only allow a person to stay for a week or two, then they had to get back on the road.

‘Battered Wives’ Refuges’ had not yet been organised and many wives who were at their wits end merely walked out of their homes and wandered the streets day and night. It was pathetic and pitiful................... 

Many of those I came across were of a professional background, be they doctors, surgeons, solicitors and the like although the majority were just plain poor. On night duty in particular I used to stop and speak with many and I came to know quite a number and their backgrounds.

One in particular was an Irishwoman I knew as Old Mary and she was aged about 60. Because of her hard life she did in fact look more like 75. She was a charming woman with a wonderful west of Ireland accent. She spoke intelligently and had obviously had a good education. 

Her story was like that of many of the others. She had married young in Ireland and came to London with her husband to seek their fortune. She never had any children.

Her husband, like many of the Irishmen of that period liked his beer and spent most of his earnings from the building site in the pub before coming home. She told me that she often found herself without a penny to provide the type of meal he always demanded.

At first, the abuse was verbal but it quickly became physical. He tried to force her to prostitute her body but as she was a staunch Catholic she refused. This led to more violence. She was one of those women whose mother always quoted the old saying that ‘Now that you have made your bed, you must lay in it’.

Whenever she spoke to the priest in her local church, he too preached her about the ‘sanctity of marriage’ and told her to stay with her husband. The Police in those days would not get involved in ‘Husband and Wife disputes’. Thankfully, that has changed and ‘victims’, no matter what the relationship with the person responsible, receive the  full   protection of the law through Domestic Violence procedures.

Old Mary stood the mistreatment for ten years or so, and then one evening when her husband arrived home drunk and began punching her about the house, she waited until he had gone to bed, took some of her clothes and walked out. She had nowhere to go, no friends whom she could call upon but she did not care. She was free......

And so her long wanderings about the streets of the East End of London began. As the song, ‘The Streets of London’ says, she was seen ‘Carrying her home in two carrier bags’. She had her regular haunts and some of  the  local people came to know her. She detested so-called charity but occasionally accepted a little money. When I met her, she had been on the streets for about fifteen years.

Occasionally, especially during the harsh winter months, she would be traced by the Salvation Army Social Worker and almost forcibly taken to one of their establishments where they bent the rules and allowed her to stay until the spring weather arrived.

Finally, I did not see her anymore and thought that she must be staying at the Salvation Army Hostel but learned from another rough sleeper that she had been found dead outside a local Catholic Church the previous Christmas. I like to think that she died peacefully close to her only friend in this world – and indeed the next……….

An Irish poem from my childhood constantly reminds me of Old Mary and when I think of her, I thank my God for everything I have and say a little prayer that she now rests in peace….................. 

Old Woman of the Roads

By Padraic Colum

O, to have a little house
To own the hearth and stool and all
The heaped up sods against the fire,
The pile of turf against the wall.
To have a clock with weights and chains
And pendulum swinging up and down
A dresser filled with shining delph,
Speckled and white and blue and brown.

I could be busy all the day
Clearing and sweeping hearth and floor,
And fixing on their shelf again
My white and blue and speckled store.

I could be quiet there at night
Beside the fire and by myself,
Sure of a bed and loath to leave
The ticking clock and the shining delph.

Och! but I'm weary of mist and dark,
And roads where there's never a house nor bush,
And tired I am of bog and road,
And the crying wind and the lonesome hush.

And I am praying to God on high,
And I am praying Him night and day,
For a little house - a house of my own
Out of the wind's and the rain's way.

--------------

                                             -------Mike------

Stay Safe......

Keep  Your  Distance.....

My last post on Immunity came home to roost to-day.   Despite the advice that they have been giving and the expertise of some of the greatest doctors in the world, Boris Johnson the UK Prime Minister and The Health Secretary Matt Hancock have been diagnosed with a mild version of the Virus.   They are at home in isolation – Johnson in 10 Downing Street.

Last night, the PM and Chancellor of the Exchequer were seen standing together on the steps of Downing Street, clapping along with people all over the country, giving thanks and support to National Health Staff.

On a more cheerful note, I went shopping this morning during the hour set aside for ‘vulnerable people’.   I was pleasantly surprised.   There was an air of hope among the couple of thousand people who formed an orderly queue about a mile long.    The British ‘love’ queuing because I suppose, it gives them a sense of purpose and a feeling of helping the fight against the Enemy – in this case, not the Germans, but the Virus.

They were as I said, orderly and totally obeying the security staff.   People who were more disabled other than by age (over 70’s) were being allowed into the queue and the help being given was quite honestly, amazing.

The only problem was that the vast majority were not keeping a safe distance from each other – six feet or two meters.   Had they done so, the queue would have stretched for about four miles.

Although in places like crowded London, it is almost impossible to keep a safe distance from the next person, it will, and has already proved, to be one of the best preventative measures.

Addendum:   4.30pm   The Chief Medical Advisor  has gone into isolation......

----------Mike----------

Obey the Rules.....

You are Not  Immune.....

Of course you are.   You are young, fit and healthy.   The Virus only attacks the old, the infirm and those with underlying illnesses.   Not you of course.

That is why you think you can continue to party, go where you like and do exactly what you feel like doing.

Many people, across the world, who have the benefit of some of the greatest doctors to treat them have gone down with this devastating sickness.   Prince Charles, the Heir to the Crown in the United Kingdom has just been diagnosed with the virus.   Several Diplomats and other high ranking officials have also succumbed.   All their doctors could not prevent it.

Ah yes, but You are different.   Like the numerous young people in some of the London parks who decided that as the sun was shining today, they could remove some of their clothing and sunbathe.

Or the group of about twenty people who decided that they could have a barbeque as a group including young children.

Oh the folly of youth – all the directions of the top scientists and doctors do not refer to you.   

You are immune ?.......You Fool...................

By the time that this current Corona Virus has been conquered, as it surely will be, how many times will that phrase about immunity be spoken at the funerals of the tens of thousands who died believing that the rules did not apply to them.

-------Mike-------

Lockdown or Lockup....

For the Times, They are a Changin…..

We are living in the strangest period of my life and being almost eighty years of age, I find it very odd to say the least.

I can well remember some of the War years in the early 1940’s and although it was in the Republic of Ireland, who remained neutral during the conflict, I still recall the sounding of the air raid sirens from time to time.

I also remember some of the old people speaking of the ‘curfews’ during the Irish Civil War of the 1920's.   As children we would be shown the damage caused by gun shots fired by the hated ‘Black and Tans’ at people who were outdoors when they should not have been.

In London, at the moment (March 2020) there has been declared a ‘State of Emergency’ by the Government with some of the measures imposed so stringent that the streets are more or less empty, shops being cleared of food and essentials by panic buying.   That is of course, if the shops can legally remain open.

There is unprecedented demand on the Health Services, with some patients being declined life-saving treatment.

Police have been given new powers to break up groups of people – at the moment by means of ‘words of advice’ with on the spot fines as a follow-up if such advice is ignored.

Having served over thirty years in the police service, I find it extremely hard to grasp as it is totally against every rule the law previously gave to officers.

Football matches and all sporting events have been cancelled or postponed until such time as it is possible to play at a later and hopefully safer time.

Formula One racing is being cancelled or postponed all over the world and it is now almost certain that the Olympics in Japan, scheduled for July, will be put back for a year or two.

As for policing, so many officers are becoming ill with ‘the Virus’ that an idea is being proposed that retired officers, such as yours truly, will be asked to return to duty and be sworn-in as Special Constables.  I can unfortunately see this becoming very necessary in the not too distant future to assist current officers to deal with crowd and public disorder.

‘Vulnerable People’ which includes those over seventy have been advised most strongly to remain indoors for twelve weeks.   Last weekend, contrary to Government health warnings, the public was advised to remain indoors and away from crowds.   As it happens, Sunday was quite a Spring-like day and thousands, if not tens of thousands, made their way to beauty spots and seaside resorts.   A video of Bondi Beach in Australia gives an idea of what was happening at British seaside resorts and beauty spots countrywide.

Deaths from the Virus are creeping up in Great Britain on a daily basis, but I strongly feel that until such time – and that time will come – the figures reach into the tens of thousands, the public, in particular the young, will continue to flout the request and advice of those responsible for their health and safety.

As I said at the beginning: ‘We are living in the strangest period’…………………………..

-----------Mike---------

Greedy Shoppers.....

Random Thoughts:

Mixed-up with the current Corona Virus news reports, I saw that France and possibly other countries have given the Police powers to arrest anyone in public who is suspected of having the virus.    I cannot understand what the officers will do with the prisoners and apart from a fine it all seems to be ‘up-in-the-air’.   It is possible that there is a hope that the threat of such action will suffice.

Oddly enough, back home in Ireland, during the late 1940’s and 50’s there was a TB Eradication Scheme – Tuberculosis was rampant and highly contagious.   It was the ‘Cancer’ of its day.

Those suffering from the disease were compulsorily hospitalised.   I can well remember ambulance crews, assisted by police officers, forcibly taking people from their homes – particularly the old, and taking them to hospital where they were detained for treatment.   I clearly remember one old woman crying out as she was being taken away ‘Leave me alone. I want to die in my own bed’.

I pray that the Corona does not cause the same problems.

I have just returned from shopping.   What appears to be a major problem worldwide, is the behaviour of a great many greedy members of the public.   To-day, on the outskirts of London, the supermarkets arranged for people over 70 years of age (and other vulnerable people) to be given one hours shopping before the general public were allowed to enter.   Where I went was a total farce and confusion.

There was a queue about half-a-mile long waiting for the doors to open at 6.30am.   There were hundreds of infirm and aged customers.   There was a mad rush for many of the scarcest items such as toilet paper, meat, rice and other cereals.   Many shelves were completely empty with items strewn all over the floors.   It seemed to me that everyone was stockpiling.  It was total chaos.

I purchased some items then made my way to another supermarket.   It was worse there with queues all over the aisles to reach the check-outs.   I searched – unsuccessfully – for some items, then realised that the escapade was a total waste of time.   I left with nothing.

My overall experience of today was one of total shock at how people were behaving.   The staff members were totally frustrated and unhelpful.   They were too busy – or so they said.   I am afraid to say that ‘profit’ has crept in with general low cost items not being stocked whilst more expensive items have replaced them.

With a possible closedown in the London area being forecast from next week I fear that things will only get worse.

I developed a method that has helped me to control my blood-pressure a few months ago:   It goes something like this:   ‘Everything, and I mean everything, that I have ever worried about in my life, has come to nothing within a short period’.

I fear that over the coming weeks and (God forbid) months, things will surely and sorely test me.

-----------Mike----------

They Made America Great......

Redneck and Hillbilly Surprises.....

The history surrounding Ulster-Scots also known as Scots-Irish in the US begins as far as this post is concerned when in 1638 and 1641, in Scotland; the Presbyterians there signed a Covenant. This stated that they desired the Presbyterian form of church government and would not accept, under any circumstances, the Church of England as its official state church as ordered by the then monarch and government.

Many signed in their own blood and wore red pieces of cloth around their necks as a sign of their religious beliefs. They became known as ‘Rednecks’.  As late as 1940, at least one Scottish Presbyterian minister insisted on wearing a red clerical collar.

In Scotland they were banned from all public office because of their refusal to become part of the ‘new’ Church of England and swear allegiance to Elizabeth the First, the then Queen of England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland in her capacity as ‘Protector of the Faith’.

Things became so hard for them tens of thousands moved to Ulster in Northern Ireland.   Others, though few at this early stage, sailed to the new world and took up residence in the United States.

In Ulster, the Scots continued to be harassed not only by the English but also by the nationalist Irish whose lands had been dispossessed.    The Royalist Ulster landowners also hated them.    Their Presbyterian churches were regularly burned down by both their enemies and many were forced to travel by boat on Sundays back to the Scottish mainland to attend services.    Thousands were killed by the cruel sea…….

When The Test Act of 1704 was passed into law by the English it caused particular hardship to the Presbyterians, as marriages conducted by their ministers were now deemed by the government to be void and invalid. They were also further barred from worshipping in their churches, running schools or holding public office.

At that time, they became known as 'Blackmouths' due to the fact that in the summer  they would be eating blackberries during services in the hedgerows and fields.  They were a hardy set of people through necessity…..

Many were involved in weaving in the Linen trade and when the English placed additional tariffs on the Ulster industry, they found the situation totally untenable.

An earlier trickle of emigrants to America now became a flood……………….

The first small group of families had begun sailing to America in the 1690’s but by 1740 over a quarter of a million men, women and children had left. Their Presbyterian ministers sailed with them and as they had the basis of a well-organised church with them, Presbyterianism began to spread rapidly throughout America.

Many moved to the South and mountainous regions. They wore red or orange neckerchiefs to signify their origins and became known as Rednecks. The later arrivals, after the Battle of the Boyne in 1690, when King William of Orange (King Billy) beat the Irish/Jacobites, the men from the mountain regions became known as the ‘Billies from the Hills’, later changed to ‘Hillbillies’.

It is likely that even before the film Deliverance and the portrayal of the supposed Hillbillies in it, they have always been ridiculed.   However, their true origin is truly magnificent and present-day America owes so much to those who carved their way across the continent during the Frontier years.

A few lines before I name names..................

Their hatred of the English because of the religious bigotry against them back home in Scotland first, then Ulster made them ideal candidates to take the rebel side in the War of Independence. As one learned gentleman (Professor James G. Leyburn) said of them "They provided some of the best fighters in the American army. Indeed there were those who held the Scots-Irish responsible for the war itself".

George Washington himself once said "If defeated everywhere else, I will make my last stand for liberty among the Scots-Irish of my native Virginia".

The Scots-Irish provided 25 Generals and about one third of the rebel army. The Pennsylvania Line was made up entirely of Scots-Irish emigrants and their sons. At the battle of Kings Mountain, a militia of mainly Scots-Irish Presbyterians defeated an English army twice its size.

President Theodore Roosevelt once said of the Scots-Irish "In the Revolutionary war, the fiercest and most ardent Americans of all were the Presbyterian Irish settlers and their descendants".

Probably my greatest shock of all during my research was yet to come.

The Declaration of Independence was printed by an Ulster-Scot, John Dunlop and it was first read in public by a first generation Scots-Irish American, Colonel John Nixon. The first, and largest, signature on the document came from another Scots-Irish Presbyterian, John Hancock.

Over the coming decades, the Scots-Irish gradually lost their identity and embraced America. The name fell out of use for almost a century until the arrival of the Catholic Irish during the Great Famine in the 1840’s.  Those refugees were known as Catholic Gaelic Irish and the Presbyterians reintroduced the name Scots-Irish.

The ‘new’ arrivals, the Catholics tended to congregate in Catholic Irish communities in New York, Chicago and Boston whilst the Scots-Irish population spread throughout America in particular the Mid-West and Southern States.

Nine of the men who died at the Alamo were actually born in Ulster, whilst Davy Crockett, William Travis and Jim Bowie were all first, second or third generation Scots-Irish as were many others.

Famous Scots-Irish Americans include Andrew Jackson, Davy Crockett, Sam Houston, Stonewall Jackson, Woodrow Wilson and others.  John Wayne, Willie Nelson and Elvis Presley are among many, many other equally famous American stars of film, stage and music.

  

Today there are about 27 Million Scots-Irish Presbyterian Americans and 17 Million Catholic Irish Americans– although many from a Protestant background regard themselves as Irish-Americans.

As I always thought that ‘the Irish in America’ were those who had sailed there during the Great Famine in the 1840’s, I feel that I must apologise.    They too may well have produced some ‘great Americans’ but without a shadow of doubt the ‘true greatness’ was provided by the Presbyterian Scots-Irish or Ulster-Scots - whichever is preferred.

I do however take a little pride in the fact that I can claim just a little connection.....

-------------Mike--------------

As Evil as They Come.....

The Beast of Jersey......

Jersey is an island and part of the Channel Islands off the coast of Normandy, France.   It, and the other islands, is a British Crown Dependency.   It is commonly known as a ‘Tax Haven’.

Apparently it is a beautiful island and a well known holiday resort.

For eleven years, from 1960 to 1971 it was the scene of many vicious attacks including thirteen assaults and rapes.   Victims, both male and female were taken from their bedrooms and assaulted.    The search for the attacker continued over the years without success.

Early in the enquiry, an eccentric farm worker and fisherman, Alphonse Le Gastelois was arrested for the crimes but due to lack of evidence he was released.    It appears that the local inhabitants believed him to be guilty when his home was burnt down in an act of arson.

Alphonse was frightened out of his wits and as a result he left the island and moved.   He remained on his new lightly inhabited island for fourteen years and whilst there, the true attacker was arrested.   Old Alphonse did however live to the ripe old age of 97 and died in June 2012.

Meanwhile, back in Jersey the attacks continued with the suspect evading arrest on each occasion.    As happens in many such investigations the arrest came by a sheer chance of luck (or fate if you prefer).

Edward Paisnel, a local Jersey inhabitant, was stopped driving a car by police having failed to stop at a red traffic signal.   A pursuit followed with Paisnel using his local knowledge to try to evade the following police officers.   Eventually he was stopped where it was found that the car had been stolen earlier that day.    When it was searched police found many items of clothing that had been well described over the years as being worn by the attacker.   Paisnel claimed that he was on his way to ‘an orgy’.   The clothing had a very strong musty smell which many of the victims had previously spoken of.

In December 1971 he was convicted of 13 counts of assault, rape and sodomy and sentenced to 30 years in prison.

At his appeal, his legal team argued that the trial had been greatly sensationalised by the press with the title ‘The Beast of Jersey’ and others being used.  The appeal was unsuccessful.    Upon his subsequent release from his sentence he moved back to Jersey but because of local feelings against him, he moved to the Isle of Wight where he died in 1994.   He was sixty years old.

The matter would have rested there until in 2008 a huge police investigation began into activities at a Care Home on the Island of Jersey.   Haut de la Garenne was named by past ‘inmates’ as a place where cruel, sadistic and degrading behaviour was meted out to the children there.

Paisnel’s wife Joan had been employed at the home over the years where she once had her husband, ‘The Beast’, play Father Christmas......................The mind boggles.....

-------------Mike------------