Gorey Castle and Beyond

The Lost Manor of La Brécquette

L'Etacq lies at the stunning north west edge of Jersey, near the muzzle of the cow, where ocean and cliff meet. The views from this hamlet are sublime, swooping high over the shores of St Ouen and down to Corbière on the far horizon.

These windswept berms of sand, where Jersey pink granite cottages cling to the edge of the rock, yield a dark and mysterious secret. Legend has it that long ago a grand manor house stood here, surrounded on two sides by a deep oak forest. The Manor of La Brécquette was one of the proudest and lordliest seigneuries on the Island. 

But one black night the waters rose too high - a vicious storm surge, a tsunami that swept over the forest and poured over the stone battlements and gothic towers. The waves had come to claim their domain.

The castle was drowned for ever. In the strange hinterland between myth and history, locals told of ruins in the sand, of the black stumps of an ancient forest that could just be glimpsed at low tide off the shores of l'Etacq. Balleine's magisterial History of Jersey weighs in with the tantalising fact that "In 1669, Philippe Mahaut, then aged 80, declared that in his youth some old people had shown him the ruins of the castle of La Brécquette and trees marking the separation of the fiefs". (Balleine, p.91).

An ancient forest does cling to the seabed of St Ouen, perhaps a remnant of the Ice Age era when the Channel was a dry, grassy plain. As for the manor, the relentless waves must have ground stone into silt and fish swim today above ancient halls.

We can only speculate, for the sea is not giving up its secrets. 

(c) J Rozel 2011 

 

Greve de Lecq

High summer. Tourists flock like seagulls to the sedate beach cafes, searching for thick wads of Jersey ice cream and the long roll of a sandy bay. The coach parties are on to something. 

Nestled under the shade of a Martello tower, with streams and rock shoals and deep sands, Greve de Lecq is a child's paradise. Green cliffs cascade down into the north coast, on the beach where Jerseymen left to colonise Sark in 1565. No moon-shot this; from cliff-tops the northern isles glimmer on the horizon.

Greve de Lecq boasts a history as rich as its dark gold sands. Towering over the bay is an Iron Age promontory hill-fort, an ancient place of refuge. The name means sandy shore and as one of the few sheltered north coast landing sites, it required close watch. So in the Napoleonic era, the British Army constructed barracks, which are now open to the curious public. There is a secret history here too, of dark caves that lead to a hidden beach, of chapel ruins and local legends. Not a bad place to enjoy a Jersey ice cream.