1834 guide to Jersey - country people
1834 guide to Jersey:
Country people
The author had mixed opinions of Jersey country people
This is the chapter on country people from the Jersey volume of The Channel Islands (the result of a two year residence) by Henry David Inglis. He claimed that 'a Jerseyman will do anything rather than put his hand in his pocket'
The country people of Jersey is the largest class of the natives, who are, with few exceptions, at once proprietors, occupiers and labourers of the soil.
Land holdings
These possessions are from two or three vergées, up to 20 or 30; but that I may speak more intelligibly, I may say from one up to ten or 12 English acres. Some few properties may run up to 50, 60 or even more acres, but this is extremely rare.
The wealth of a Jerseyman is not, however, to be estimated by the number of his vergées. A man possessing but a limited number of vergées may be an extensive holder of rentes secured upon other possessions, and this requires a few words of explanation.
Rentes explained
A man who is in want of money charges his property with the payment for ever, of any number of quarters of wheat; and these quarters are transferable in the market, and divisible. For example, if A lends B a sum of money equal to 20 quarters annual charge, A may transfer these to C, D, E and F, five quarters to each; and each of these again may transfer his claim to five different individuals.
So quarters are a floating heritable property, and are readily bought by anyone who happens to have a little spare money; and as this includes almost every farmer in Jersey, there are few who have not been purchasers, and are proprietors of some quarters.
Independence of character
It must always happen that where men cultivate their own land, and labour for their own profit, a certain independence of character will be engendered – an independence whose foundation is natural and just, and which is in itself honourable to the possessor.
In Jersey other things contribute to foster this spirit among the inhabitants; particularly the possession of certain political rights and privileges, of which I shall afterwards have occasion briefly to speak; and the isolated position of the island which they inhabit.
The spirit which animates the mass of the people, more especially the inferior classes, is strongly republican; and the blunt independence of character and manner, as well as other evidences of this spirit, bear no small resemblance to the traits which attach to our brethren across the Atlantic.
The surplus labour required upon the soil, beyond that which the possessors and their families can give; or upon those properties which are in the hands of English residents, is performed by English, Irish and French labourers. Jersey labourers are not to be obtained for hire, though there is no difficulty in obtaining an exchange of labour, which is more consonant with their notions of independence.
Among female servants, too, there is a good deal of the American ‘help’. There is no absolute rudeness among them; but there is much of the free and easy, and the same treatment which would be acceptable to an English servant would speedily offend the sensitiveness of a Jersey-born damsel.
Avarice, parsimony and frugality
It is a fact that in all countries where we find a love of independence, and where that independence of character is generated by independence in worldly circumstances, we also find a strong disposition towards avarice, and its natural accompaniments – parsimony and excessive frugality.
The origin of this is not difficult to account for: independence in worldly circumstances is absolutely essential towards independence of character and action; and men therefore naturally employ the means by which this independence may be secured.
With acquisition, too, grows the love of it; and thus we may easily comprehend how, in an isolated community, its members, gradually enriching themselves, and perceiving yearly the certain results of frugality, would acquire habits which border upon the niggardly and sordid.
That this love of acquisition, and a strict frugality, form, with independence, another strong trait of Jersey character, is undeniable. And although it be true that these traits are sometimes offensive, we scarcely can quarrel with that which presents to us a population without paupers; and among which there is no man who does not feel himself above the contempt of the proud, and the sneer of the rich.
The love of acquisition, and the economical habits which accompany it, are incapable of being separated; and the same traits afford proof of both. Of these characteristics, abundant evidence may be found in the habits and manner of life, among the country people of Jersey.
A Jerseyman's pocket
I have heard it said that a Jerseyman will do anything rather than put his hand in his pocket: and judging by the facts which have come to my knowledge, I incline to put some faith in the saying.
The strong disinclination to part with money, or, which is the same thing, the disinclination to consume that part of their farm produce which is readily convertible into money is strongly exhibited in case of illness. In case, for example, of a nourishing broth diet being ordered by a medical man, it is scarcely possible to prevail with the pateient to sacrifice a barn door fowl which, next Saturday, would fetch 18d in the market: he would rather run up a doctor’s bill and swallow physic.
The quid quo pro is also a tolerably general rule of conduct. A loan is expected to be repaid by a loan; labour to be given for labour; and here, independence of character and love of money go hand in hand.
Rather than pay hire to a labourer, a Jersey farmer will ask the assistance of his neighbour; but at the same time, feels that independence of character calls upon him to repay that labour which he has borrowed.
A Jerseyman is altogether above accepting pecuniary assistance from strangers, and holds in especial horror the resort of parish charity. Long may he continue so to feel, so long as it is allied to that independence which abhors, because it places him above the want of parochial relief.
The love of, and the spirit of independence, have other necessaries than penuriousness. Industry is one of them, and it is sufficiently conspicuous in the natives of Jersey. They may be said to be, in all ranks, a hard-working people, and appear never to consider themselves above their business. With few exceptions ‘all work and no play’ is their maxim to live by, and the inclination to make the most of time is observable among the country women as well as among the country men.
If on a market morning you meet half a dozen women heavily enough laden with vegetables and other country produce, it is ten to one that they have all contrived to keep their hands unembarrassed, and are busily employing them with the knitting needle. And when sitting in the market place with their fish, fruit or butter, few sit idle. Even in the midst of winter the knitting needle is still in their hands. I have even seen women on horseback, knitting as they rode to market.
Farmhouses
Let me give the reader some idea of a Jersey farmhouse. I take at a venture, one of the middle order, the proprietor of which owns about 15 vergées, or from six to eight English acres; and besides, not without his ‘quarters’.
You enter a green shady lane, branching from one of the main roads, and reach a high wooded gate, flanked by two granite pillars, overcome with dwarf moss. Entering by a small door on the left of the gate, you find yourself in a rather dirty yard, paved with blueish pebbles.
On one side stands the farmhouse, built of stone, solid and ungainly in its form, and roofed with tile, or with thatch. On the other side stand the barns, byre, cider press and haystack, etc.
The front of the house is most probably covered with a vine, which sometimes half shades the windows, and is religiously preserved, although from the great abundance of outdoor vines, its value is little, and its utility questionable.
The farmhouse has two doors, one leading you into the kitchen in common use, the other opening into a passage, having what is called the best parlour on one side and the best kitchen on the other. And opposite the front door, at the other end of the passage, is the back door leading into the garden – a very faulty arrangement, by which a stiff breeze is constantly kept up within the house.
If your visit be made about noon, you will find a good fire burning on the hearth, boiling the soup kettle. The fire is composed of vraic and a few faggots.
Soupe a choux
The soup which boils in the kettle is called soupe a choux, the staple of Jersey country diet. This soup, which is also known by the name of soupe a la graisse, is made by boiling together as much cabbage, lard and potatoes as suffices for the family dinner. Sometimes, but rarely, a little meat is added. And sometimes parsnips, or turnips, take the place of potatoes.
This soup is the never failing dinner of the great mass of the country people of Jersey, and although tea for breakfast is now pretty universal, soupe a choux is still used at that meal by many.
There is another soup to which this soupe a choux occasionally yields – conger eel soup, which is considered rather a delicacy, and is not held contemptible even among the upper ranks. For my own part, I have found it sufficiently savoury to justify its reputation. It is made thus: to three or four pounds of eel, add three pints of water, one of milk, one of green peas, a halfpenny worth of sweet herbs, and a quarter of a pound of butter. Boil all together for about half an hour.
Among the better class of farmers there are occasional deviations from the soupe a choux, or additions to it. About once a fortnight a dish of corned or pickled pork, or salted fish, is admitted. And roasted apples or baked pears are a frequent accompaniment.
This diet costs little. The lard, the cabbage, the milk, the apples, the pears, are all farm produce, and not valuable in the market; and the conger eel at particular times is extremely cheap and abundant.
Milk is scarcely at all used in a Jersey menage. It is all wanted for butter for the market, or for home consumption. A Jersey farmer lives upon that part of the produce of his land which is the least valuable, and carries the rest to market.
Fruit
The apple pies and gooseberry pies, which are so frequent in an English farmhouse, are almost unknown in Jersey. Roasted apples, and especially baked pears, which require no sugar, and which are always shaken off the trees in sufficient abundance for winter stock, are a good and a cheap substitute.
The baked pear, especially the chaumontelle, is universally liked, and is a common addition at tea, not only among the country people, but among the respectable tradesmen of the towns. The pears are merely put into a dish with a very little water, and are sent to the oven. They are quite sweet enough without sugar, but taste flat.
Every Jersey family – I might say of all ranks – uses cider. Of course the farmer uses the produce of his own orchard. All country people make their own bread, from their own flour. The bakings are for the most part, once a fortnight, though some bake weekly. I cannot speak highly of the bread, which is usually of two sorts, one whiter than the other.
The country people invariably drink tea, but take no supper; and at this meal, stewed pears are a common substitute for butter, though it must be admitted that butter is more freely used in a Jersey menage than any other article of produce.
Excepting for tea and sugar – and of the latter, no great quantity is required – a Jersey farmer has no occasion to put his hand in his pocket: and it is a small property indeed which does not afford a surplus beyond the value of the few articles which must be purchased at market.
Clothes
Neither is there much outlay in the articles of dress. Many of the habiliments both of the men and women are of worsted, which has been subjected to the knitting needle. And not only stockings, and shawls, but petticoats, and even small clothes are of this material, the produce of domestic industry. Men’s clothes, too, are frequently fashioned at home, though not universally.
It is a curious fact I have to mention, that all the country tailors are women. A Jerseyman would consider the occupation of a tailor beneath him, and this trade, in the country, is in the hands of the females. A female tailor receives 5d a day.
Such is a sketch of the everyday manner of living among the Jersey country people. It will be at once seen that it is in perfect accordance with the traits of character to which I have alluded.
I am told that within the last ten years there has been considerable improvement in the mode of life. Meat is more frequently seen in the farmhouse; and tea has somewhat encroached upon the sovereignty of soupe a la graisse. It must be admitted, however, that even with these improvements, the diet is not a generous one, and suffers sadly in a comparison with the huge sides of bacon, the new milk cheese, and the pitchers of ale which disappear before the farm servants of our English counties.
Holidays
There are some few great holiday exceptions to the monotony of Jersey country life. Christmas, Easter and New Year’s Day are the chief feast days of the island. Christmas time is a week of feasting and merrymaking. On these occasions there is a family gathering, 20 or 30 perhaps being assembled, including all who are related to the heads of a family, as far as cousinship.
On these occasions the soupe a choux is discarded; fresh pork is substituted for its pickled relative; roast beef, such as would not disgrace the table of an English squire, takes its place. Perhaps even the market is defrauded of its goose, and puddings even ‘smoke upon the board’.
Mountains of cakes, too, accompany tea; and hot punch and hot wine laugh for once at frugality.
Eating and drinking, although the staple amusement, is not the only one. Cards and dominoes are introduced, and sous are freely sported while the Christmas son, the laugh and the jest go round.
Dancing, so universal on such occasions in England, is rare in Jersey. I have often enquired the cause of this. They say it is inconsistent with the solemn origin of Christmas. But dancing is at no time a very general recreation of the country people. I suspect it is the prevalence of sectarianism in Jersey that chiefly stands in the way of this pastime.
Easter is not only a season for feasting, but for new dresses. A great fair which is then held at Gorey affords an opportunity of displaying them. There is also a fair on St John’s Day in the parish of St John, and on this occasion, more than any other, dancing is one of the amusements. The most respectable Jersey farmers and their families do not now frequent these fairs, which are chiefly attended by townspeople.
Personal appearance
When speaking of feasts and fairs, a few words may not be misplaced respecting the personal appearance of the natives of Jersey. They are not, generally speaking, a good looking people. Of the stature and appearance of the men a better test cannot be obtained than the island militia. Certainly after a review of the two or three thousand that compose this force, one must decide that the race offers few examples of fine, well grown, forms, or of handsome countenances. Nor do I think the generality of the women afford any contrast.
Sufficient reasons may be given for this; constant intermarriage will infallibly lead to a deterioration of the race. An ungenerous diet will also have its effect. Unwearied outdoor labour is the enemy of beauty, and unfavourable to erectness of form, and to these must be added want of sleep, which I look upon to be a distinguishing characteristic of the country people of Jersey.
The English labourer is early in the fields, but then he goes to bed betimes. The Jersey farmer is yet earlier in the fields, but he is also late up. In most of the country houses, lights are seen in the windows at eleven, and in many, even towards midnight. This little sleeping cannot fail to have its effects both on the looks, and on the constitution.
In the dress of the country people there is nothing very remarkable, nothing precisely national. All the women wear shawls, generally black or grey; and the bonnets are almost invariably black. To several enquiries which I have made as to the reason of this predilection for so gloomy an apparel, I have been more than once answered that it is convenient to have black clothes in case of deaths in a family.
In Jersey this does not mean merely the members of a family resident in one house, but all who are connected, however remotely. And in a spot where intermarriages are so frequent, and where attachment to the country prevents emigration, the occasions for mourning must necessarily be very frequent.
Honesty
It is generally said that the Jersey people are honest. This is a word, however, of very wide signification. If by honest be meant that one is above stealing (and this is the general interpretation of the word in contradistinction to dishonest – though far from Pope’s meaning of ‘an honest man’) then, I should say the the natives of Jersey are honest.
In the cases of theft which come before the Court of Justice in Jersey, Jerseymen are scarcely ever implicated; the delinquencies which arise from dishonesty are almost invariably committed by English, Irish or French; and the Jerseyman may certainly be called a trustworthy person.
But I do not know that in those minor and unpunishable deviations from perfect honesty which are found in men’s dealings, one with another, the inhabitants of Jersey are entitled to claim any superiority over their neighbours.
I would rather drive a bargain – as the saying is – with an Englishman, than with a Jerseyman. And among the market people, who everywhere, and especially in so small a community as Jersey, afford a fair sample of national character, there is quite as great a disposition to over-reach as I have ever found in any part of Europe: certainly greater than in France.
