To provide the best experiences, we use technologies like cookies to store and/or access device information. Consenting to these technologies will allow us to process data such as browsing behaviour or unique IDs on this site. Not consenting or withdrawing consent, may adversely affect certain features and functions.
The technical storage or access is strictly necessary for the legitimate purpose of enabling the use of a specific service explicitly requested by the subscriber or user, or for the sole purpose of carrying out the transmission of a communication over an electronic communications network.
The technical storage or access is necessary for the legitimate purpose of storing preferences that are not requested by the subscriber or user.
The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for statistical purposes.
The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for anonymous statistical purposes. Without a subpoena, voluntary compliance on the part of your Internet Service Provider, or additional records from a third party, information stored or retrieved for this purpose alone cannot usually be used to identify you.
The technical storage or access is required to create user profiles to send advertising, or to track the user on a website or across several websites for similar marketing purposes.
To the beat of his own drum
Share this:
A man who was certainly an eccentric but perhaps rather less odd than some were too ready to assume, Alphonse Le Gastelois, has died after a long life during which he marched to the beat of the very distinct rhythm of his own drum.
Mr Le Gastelois lived much of his life in relative obscurity, but events beyond his control thrust him into the limelight. When, in the 1960s, the Island was living under the shadow of serial sexual assaults that were ultimately shown to have been committed by Edward Paisnel, the so-called Beast of Jersey, the finger of blame was pointed at Alphonse – as he was generally known – purely on the strength of rumour and his idiosyncratic ways.
Insulted and outraged, he chose to exile himself to the Ecréhous, where he lived as a hermit for 14 years. Like Philippe Pinel, a fisherman who lived on the reef from 1848 to 1898, Mr Le Gastelois became known as the King of the Ecréhous, a title he clearly relished.
Some say that Mr Le Gastelois should have received a public apology for the unwarranted aspersions that were cast on his good name. That apology might still be due, but let us not forget the despicable role played by gossips and rumour-mongers, the 1960s equivalent of today’s internet ‘trolls’ and certain bloggers who fire off accusations without concern for evidence or consequences.
Living a solitary existence on tiny islets midway between Jersey and France would not be to everyone’s liking, but Mr Le Gastelois appeared to thrive on the experience. He also became something of a celebrity and his exile was, for many years, one of the essential subjects to be covered by UK journalists profiling the Island.
Conventional wisdom has it that there are no more ‘characters’ in Jersey and that modern pressures allow little leeway for those who spurn convention. This may be true to only a limited extent, but it is certainly the case that the second King of the Ecréhous set the bar at a very high level when it came to uncompromising individuality, contempt for authority and rejection of ordinary standards.
Related