Memories of Moorman ancestors

Memories of the Moorman family

This account of the family was written by Charles and Mary Moorman’s great-grandson, Christopher Brough, in 2014

Further editing, formatting and addition of pictures to follow

Charles Slade Moorman and his wife Mary Trewin Youlton were both to die in 1929. Charles on 5 February, Mary just 10 months later on 20 December. After funeral services at St Stephens Church, just beyond the top of the Grange in Guernsey, they were buried at the Candie Cemetery.

Charles’ elder sister Henrietta (Hetty) married Thomas Southwood and younger sister Matilda (Mousse) married John McKenzie, a widower. In 1919 they founded the successful drapery business of Southwood and McKenzie, at 67 King Street St Helier, later to expand into No 69. There were no children of either marriage.

Following the deaths of Matilda in 1926 and Henrietta in 1929, their niece Clara inherited the business and moved to Jersey. Her eldest sister Maude also moved to Jersey having retired from a successful career in nursing, both living in the spacious accommodation above the shop.

Frank, their younger brother, moved to Jersey on his retirement from the army, occasionally to do maintenance work in his sisters’ shop.

Maternal grandparents Bert Hunkin and Jane Youlton Moorman, with daughter Joyce, had lived in London for six years. Thier marriage had irretrievably broken up a few years previously. Bert was to stay in London, when grandma Jane and Mum Joyce yearned for their native Guernsey and returned.

In 1930 they also moved to Jersey. All contact with Herbert Hunkin had ceased.

Uncle Richard (Dick) and his wife Ada and family were the last to remain in Guernsey from the seven brothers and four sisters. Brothers Percy and Charles were deceased, Lily was living in Brentwood in Essex, following her second marriage to Harry Wheeler. Stan, Fred and Slade had made new lives for themselves in Seattle and Oregon in the USA. My paternal Grandfather William (Willie) Brough moved to Jersey in the 1920s and opened the Brough’s drapery business at No 60 King Street that rapidly became very successful. Today these premises are occupied by Marks and Spencer. The Southwood and McKenzie shop was almost opposite Brough’s.

Following Jane’s arrival in Jersey in 1930, she opened a small grocery store in Union Street, St Helier, just a five-minute walk from King Street. Jane was a regular visitor to the home of her two much older sisters, Maude and Clara. Inevitably, Jane’s teenage daughter Joyce met Willie Broughs’ son John and a romance blossomed. They married in March 1939. They were just to have a few months together when fate stepped in, as war was declared with Germany in September 1939. John left Jersey to join the armed services.

The islands were occupied by the German forces in June 1940 and the newly-weds would not meet again for five long years.

It was some ten months after the 1945 Liberation before I was born, but I never tired of hearing about the exhilaration felt by islanders on that day. Mother Joy often spoke of it till her dying day, almost 50 years later. She had seen the troops land and the Union Flag raised for the first time in five years, with her three friends Barbara Clark, Valerie Renouf and Pat Hasler. Joy was the only one to stay in Jersey throughout these years, apart from Valerie who died at a relatively young age during that time.

Barbara had Jersey family connections and was a frequent visitor. Pat returned to Jersey around 1991 after spending many years in South Africa. Sadly, Joyce was not to meet her again, then being a complete invalid. They kept in contact by phone on Liberation Days. Phone calls with Barbara were spent reminiscing those memorable years. In July 1995, five months after Joy’s death, I was able to arrange a meeting with Pat and Barbara –the last time they had met was 50 years before.

Even though it was shortly before my time, Liberation Day (9 May) is one of the most important days in the calendar for me. It is a public holiday in both Guernsey and Jersey. I always attend the service and parade held in the area now known as Liberation Square, by the Harbour Office and the Pomme d’Or Hotel, where the Union Flags were first raised in 1945. It’s also my way of showing my respects to all those who endured so much during those years, including many of my relatives.

Jane Youlton Hunkin, née Moorman, my maternal grandmother, had her Liberation Day celebrations somewhat curtailed as she was frail, still recovering from tuberculosis, which was rife in the islands during the Occupation. Isabelle Hunter, my paternal grandmother, was to die from it in 1943 at the untimely age of 65. At that time in 1945 Jane, aged just 54, had to stay at home, which was in the upper floor accommodation above the Brough’s shop on King Street, a massive building with 14 large rooms. As King Street is very near to Liberation Square, from there she was able to hear the cheering of the gathered crowds and sense the jubilation. Jane was a relatively young woman and her recovery not complete, but even with restricted physical activity, lived until 76. Mother Joyce suffered many years of semi-invalidity, due to emphysema. It was diagnosed in 1976 when she was 61 years old, after suffering bronchitis for many years. Perhaps all due to the near starvation conditions endured during the Occupation years and scant supplies of food and fuel to heat their homes. Joyce also became an invalid after a third attack of pneumonia in early 1992, until her death in 1995 aged nearly 80.

Jane was probably the most profound influence on my life. It is most likely due to my beloved maternal grandmother that I feel far more ‘Moorman’ than ‘Hunkin’ or ‘Brough’ although I do not bear the name. She was an amazing story teller and I thank her for the in-depth and intensive knowledge I learned of earlier generations. As I write this (February 2014), I am approaching 68 and have much to be thankful for. I am still able to walk considerable distances, drive my motor car and travel extensively. Last year I swam in the sea at Bouley Bay after surviving a cancer scare in 2002 and a stroke in 2007.This was after an amazingly good health record up till then. Most of all, my mind is still clear and active.

This was the case with Jane and Joy. They referred to the prayer spoken by Charles Slade Moorman, (our joint great grandfather), who towards the end of his life said ‘O Lord, afflict my body as thou will, but spare my reason’. How true and fortuitous for me that prayer has turned out to be.

The advice of our family doctor at that time, Tom Warrington, was that my grandmother and parents should move from the town centre, (St Helier being a harbour which lies in a basin) to higher ground in the parish of St Saviour, where the elevation and air was of a better quality – important for one with a lung condition. In October of 1945 they moved to Le Caprice, Bagatelle Road, which was to remain the family home till November 2008. Bagatelle was a very rural part of Jersey in those days very different from today. Now it is a very built-up area with non-stop traffic. Such is ‘progress’.

The family had just about settled in to Le Caprice when I was born, nearly six weeks earlier than expected on 20 March 1946. Inevitably, all had been affected by the war – Jane physically – but I remember her having a very placid temperament that was a stabilizing influence and it was grandmother I was always able to talk to if anything was on my mind.

My mother was a very strong willed, almost formidable person, always able to gain respect from people in all walks of life. I also developed an independent, stubborn side. Our similar temperaments could clash at times. She told me that her therapy of recovering from the scars of the war was working in the large garden we had at the back of Le Caprice. A believer in the ‘stiff upper lip’ syndrome, she abhorred the use of sleeping pills or tranquillisers, using the benefits from working in the garden to provide sleep and stress relief.

The war also had an effect on John, my father. It seemed he preferred to forget it, as many did. We knew that he did not see much front line action as he was based at Worksop, in the pay corps. Some were puzzled as to why he never had a commission, having received a good education. I later understood that there was some friction with his father over the business and their respective shareholdings, Brough’s having been registered as a company in 1939.

It was becoming obvious that the family marriage was experiencing difficulties, but it was some time before it came to light that John had an drinking problem. In the 1950s there was a social stigma to alcoholism. Aunt Clare first suspected the condition, often hidden from the nearest and dearest. Grandfather Brough had died in 1949, leavinb control of the business to his son John, who made errors of judgement, ultimately resulting in bankruptcy not very long after. He was to start again in a smaller way, also in retail drapery, in Beresford Street, only to go bankrupt a second time in 1954. By this time the marriage had totally broken down and he left Jersey in March 1955. All contact ceased, including financial support, which our family solicitor wished to press for.

I was christened Christopher John Brough at St Saviour’s Parish Church on 2 June 1946, becoming involved there later in adult life as Sunday school teacher, assistant verger, server and archivist. Contact with congregation members is still maintained, although I now attend the church St John, which is near to where I live.

I think my pre-school years were happy. There were plenty of family pets, and the first a dog that I remember was a Scottie Mackie. There were several Pekinese, and a black and white stray tom cat ‘Bruzer’ who just ‘moved in’. Cats have played a large part in my life – my present one ‘Wellard’ is 19 years old, jet-black and most vociferous.

Mother ran a white Singer Le Mans sports car and later an Green MG TD, J10664 . Therefore my taste for MG cars came at an early age. I was later to own two myself, a yellow Midget and a red MGF in 1996.

As an only child with numerous great uncles and aunts, mostly on the Moorman side, and most in Jersey, I think I was somewhat doted on. Christmas day dinners were spent at the Highlands, Mont Felard, the home of Frank and Ethel. Aged just over one and learning to speak I hadn’t fathomed out what a turkey was. I was told that I had said ‘big chick’ when the bird was served, which humoured the family.

My first off-island trip was to Guernsey in August 1949 in the company of my parents, with Grandma Jane. It was cut short, we had to return early due to Grandpa Brough suffering a stroke – sadly he did not recover. However, Guernsey is an island I came to love and today visit as often as I can.

We were also very frequent visitors to the Southwood and McKenzie home. Of the two aunts, I found Clare the gentler, but was somewhat afraid of Maud. Childhood impressions are based upon different perceptions and I now realize this may have been a knee-jerk reaction. Not having children of her own, she was not familiar with a child’s expectations, or how to relate to or communicate with them. Maude did have a vulnerable side, which was to become apparent sadly in her later years. Clare was a very shrewd businesswoman.

I cannot remember which year it was, as I had not yet started at school, probably 1950, when Aunt Lily (Wheeler) paid a visit to Jersey. Husband Harry had stayed in Brentwood. The four sisters were all together once again, spending most of their time in the garden at Le Caprice on lovely sunny days. In 1951 we acquired a Blüthner iron framed piano, still one of my most treasured possessions. When I moved to the much smaller house in 2008, the estate agent assured me it would fit in – I am glad he was right.

Grandma Jane had been a good pianist in her youth, indeed I understand all eleven of her family had some musical talent – no technology to give instant ‘entertainment’ in those days. She taught me how to play, which I still enjoy. It was a skill that I was delighted to find returned instantly after my stroke, whereas the everyday task of walking had to be learned all over again. I also had to work really hard learning how to write again, which is now enjoyed as a therapeutic exercise.

On 30 May 1951 Slade died very suddenly at the age of 57. As Jane and he were the 10th and 11th of the family respectively, they were very close – he had planned to visit the Channel Islands later in the year, his first visit since 1928, and we were to meet his wife Martha for the first time. As a child of five, I could sense the sadness at this news, although we had not met> I knew that I had a great uncle Slade who lived in America, although I was somewhat vague as to where America was?

School was started in September that year, a small private school owned and run by Mrs Benton, assisted by her daughter Mrs Fry and a young teaching assistant ‘Miss Pauline’ Vinrace. Both older teachers were ladies of very strong character, but they recognised and encouraged potential. Mrs Fry lived fairly near me, so I was in contact with her right up till her death in 2005. We were both keen walkers, enjoying many of the beautiful coastal walks in Jersey. When in her mid-eighties and I in my late fifties – she would sometimes talk to me about her concerns on island affairs and persuade me to write to an appropriate authority. ‘You have always had much ability writing, Christopher’, she would say.

My first term was spent in Miss Pauline’s class. I must have been bright enough to move to Mrs Fry’s (Middle Group), because at the beginning of 1952 this was where I found myself. One late morning in February we were just about to finish, when my grandmother called to take me home to lunch. I noticed she was having a serious conversation with Mrs Fry. Within a minute, Mrs Benton had been called from the next room, who then summoned the whole school together, when she announced, ‘The King has died’.

Mother was waiting outside in the car and this news was the sole topic of conversation on the way home. For a child not yet six, I felt confused. Why do we no longer have a King? And why did the country now have three Queen’s? (There was a Queen Elizabeth, a Queen Mother and an aged Queen Mary).

Clare by now was having health worries. She had been diagnosed with cancer about 15 years before, but it was a slow one. She was told that she could opt for major surgery, with the risks involved, or an estimated 15 years life expectancy. She chose the latter. I recall visits to Southwood and McKenzie, seeing her have good days and bad days. Again with limited childhood understanding, I appreciated the anxiety displayed and Maude’s often gruff manner being more pronounced. Clare died on 9 September 1957 and was the first of our family buried at St Saviour – there are now six.

The Southwood and McKenzie business was sold to Wilfred Krichefski, a Jewish businessman who later became a leading Jersey politician. The shops’ family name was retained, but later became a branch of Dorothy Perkins. Today in 2014 it is the premises of Dandora, a leading Jersey property developer.

In earlier years family members would celebrate Christmas at a hotel. 1952 was the last time we did this, as the sense of loss from the vacant space of one no longer with us was too great. Aunt Maude had to move at the age of 76, being now on her own, to somewhere smaller. She found a flat on the Parade, in St Helier which was a property owned by Rev Arthur le Pape.

1953 saw the conquest of Everest on the same day as the Coronation. Big celebrations were held world-wide for both events, making a big impression on a seven-year-old. But in September that year Lily died, aged 72, having suffered from diabetes for many years. She was buried at Brentwood, Essex, her home for many years. Husband Harry, some ten years or so younger, continued to live there until his own death about eight years later in 1961.

The same month I started at the Prep school for Victoria College, remaining there until entering the main college in 1957. There were some charismatic teachers. Bill Thorne the head, was an ex-Navy man. His deputy, Arthur Marks, was already known, his wife being a breeder of the Pekingese. I am still friendly with three of their surviving offspring. The two lady teachers, Miss Aubrey and Miss Casimir, had also taught my father. Miss Aubrey lived at Bouley Bay, had numerous cats and other animals. Several boarders also lived at her house. She was brilliant at Biblical stories – she told me how another staff member Mr Hayward had recently been to Bethlehem and seen the stable where Christ was born. It became one of my dreams to do the same – which I achieved in 1999.

1954 started with a particularly cold spell – it was the first time I can remember seeing snow, which is quite a rare experience in Jersey. Frank and Ethel had by then moved to Cassis, Trinity Hill. There was a pond in the garden. We visited them one afternoon and I decided to skate on the ice – it cracked and in I went, up to the waist in freezing water. I remember the drive home in the MG – the roads were treacherous. Mother was panicking. Grandma was making sure this cold and wet eight-year-old was warm and trying to soothe the situation as usual. Arriving home – no harm done. This was exactly sixty years ago. Ethel was, sadly, in failing health and was to die of cancer a few weeks later at the age of 59. It was also in 1954 that my parents parted, John leaving Jersey in March 1955. As a single parent mother needed to earn a living. She worked as accountant at the newly opened Olwyn Grove Hotel for a year and did some private secretarial work for Lord Stanley of Alderley, who lived in Gorey. Her independent spirit came to the fore and she decided to open a business ‘Joy Hunkin Brough’ that specialised in children’s wear. The shop in David Place opened in 1956 and she was to stay there until her retirement late 1972.

February 1957 was to see the somewhat unexpected death of Maude and her surprise will entirely in favour of Rev Le Pape. The will was contested and legal matters further complicated from the death by drowning of Rev Le Pape four months later. The law is a lengthy process and although an out-of-court settlement was agreed, I seem to recall it was about 1963 before it was all finalised.

The summer of 1957 saw a family reunion in Guernsey of Fred and his three surviving siblings - the first since 1928. Although aviation was less complex at that time, to fly from the west coast of America to Croydon then on to the Channel Islands was a major undertaking. There was also a re-fuelling stop in Greenland. Fred, then a sprightly 69-year-old said he quite enjoyed the experience. Before travelling onward to Jersey Fred revisited his childhood memories in Guernsey, staying with Richard, Dick and Ada at their home, ‘Oregon’. From what I was told by Jane, Joyce and Violet, it was a time of vivid reminiscences of the past. There was one occasion when Fred went for a walk, causing concern and worries about his long absence before he returned. Why did he take so long? Who knows, perhaps the poignancy and nostalgia of return diminished the sense of time.

Dick accompanied Fred for his trip to Jersey, somewhat saddened by the recent death of the eldest sister Maude. Jane, Joyce and I went to the airport to meet their arrival and found his brother Frank, who was showing his newly acquired Rover car to an acquaintance. This was his pride and joy, Frank being somewhat of a connoisseur of cars.

Airports were more relaxed places in those pre-security days, with no automatic doors. Jane, on seeing Fred, rushed into arrivals although there was a ‘No Entry’ notice, to greet her brother not seen for almost 30 years. It was an emotional experience that will always be treasured. We went to the car park where an amusing incident occurred. Fred and Dick were slightly built. Frank was a much larger build and from his upright bearing, it was obvious he was an ex-military man who retained his posture. Frank just had to show us all, his new Rover car and extol its benefits. Remember how big American cars were? Fred had acquired an American accent and his comment was ‘Gee, what a cute little bus – my Tillie, (his wife), would love one like this, to go shopping’. Oh. Dear!

The next day Jane had a haemorrhage on the lung, which necessitated bed rest. There were several visits to le Caprice during Fred’s visit, he and Dick stayed with Frank at Cassis. Jane was able to her brothers one at a time. Joyce and I entertained the other two in the lounge. Whilst in Jersey, Fred was able to make an appointment with the family solicitor Peter Crill, regarding Maude’s affairs with a satisfactory result. Fred was very shrewd in business matters and had made clever investments over the years. Peter Crill later became Jersey’s Bailiff, (Top judge and President of the Islands parliament). Fred returned to Guernsey for another week, before flying home to the USA.

In September that year aged 11, I started at Victoria College senior school. Fred had been an amateur radio enthusiast as was Ronnie Postill our new headmaster. They had once made contact purely by chance over the airwaves! Ron Postill was an ex military man, as many of the other staff were. He had once been a county cricketer playing for Yorkshire. There are many memories of Victoria College, both good and bad – more for another time! Regular contact is maintained and most years attend a re union dinner held December in London with Mike Stanton a contemporary who lives near Bath.

I think I was slightly above average academically but not really interested in games, though I came to love cross-country running – probably the loner spirit in me. My final year (1956-7) was spent in the upper six – the top form for brighter students. A sense of achievement was felt, but it could be a struggle to keep up with the really top ones!

Over the years, there were a number of family visits made to Jersey by Dick and Ada and members of the following generation. Violet made some trips, accompanied most times by Albert Santangelo her husband. Her brother Percy and Ivy his wife came in 1955 or 56. 1958 saw the start of Walter Moorman’s generation with the birth of his daughter Veronica, who had married at a very young age to Alfred McLaren. Their daughter Susan was born that year. Veronica had knitted a jumper for uncle Frank, which pleased him immensely. Frank was now a widower and Rex his dog had also gone. Now being so alone he travelled quite often to Guernsey and the south coast of the ‘Mainland’ where family members were located. Walter died in 1958 at the age of 51, mostly due to war experiences; having been in the Royal Navy on artic convoys. His death was the first of that generation.

Charles and Muriel visited Jersey that summer. His father, also Charles b.1879-1918 was the eldest Brother of Maude. As elder Charles was deceased, ‘Jersey law’ classed the younger Charles as the ‘Principal Heir’ to Maude’s estate, so the lawyers were keen to make contact with him.

In 1958, Frank died very suddenly on October 23rd aged 68. The previous evening he had phoned Jane for a ‘Heart to heart’, Brother to Sister talk. He was full of ideas for the future, including plans for selling Cassis and moving in with his friends the Piersons. Jane’s last memory of Frank was the gentler side of him; his manner was often gruff (probably due to the military influence). Dick, Violet with Albert, Joyce and myself, attended his funeral at St. Saviour’s where he was interred alongside his wife Ethel. Only three of the eleven family siblings now remained, Richard Verrant, Fred and Jane Youlton .