John Roland Christopher Riley was born in 1925 and became the Seigneur of Trinity on the death of his father, Christopher Riley, in 1958.
He was many things during his lifetime and will be remembered in many ways through his contribution to island life and the government of Jersey. Referred to always as ‘the Major’, it could be said that he was one of the last of a dying breed of men of strong character, firm beliefs, a strong sense of duty and responsibility and a wide range of interests and achievements. These characteristics were greatly valued by a range of organisations. Organisations which perhaps now search in vain for the sort of man whom the then Bailiff, Sir Philip Bailhache, described as ‘part of the bedrock of the Island Government’.
Coldstream Guards
There is no doubt that the nineteen years John Riley spent in the Army, two of which were during the Second World War, were fundamental to the development of his character. He joined his father’s old regiment, the Coldstream Guards, at the age of 18 and served in France and Germany, where he witnessed the brutal tragedy of war, before being wounded in 1945.
Time spent later in Palestine and Malaya undoubtedly broadened his view of the world. Upon his retirement with the rank of Major, he came to live in Jersey which must have emphasised to him just what a haven of stability and security it was in a turbulent world. He stepped up to play his part in consolidating those values which are embodied in island life.
A religious man, he had a strong ‘high church’ upbringing which had a very positive influence on him, but he was never a slave to dogma and during an interview gave the following as the basis of his beliefs:
- A belief in religion as a set of guidelines for behaviour which I can accept or reject, thus recognising my freedom of will. An understanding of human frailty and the comfort of mutual support in times of stress. Recognition of the sanctity of human life despite the mystery at the beginning and end of each one. Acknowledgement of a transient responsibility for the planet.
Primitive peoples he came across in the Malayan jungle showed him that, with no sense of religion as we understand it, they could live lives of morality and order comparable to ours.
Grandfather
His grandfather, Athelstan, came to Jersey from Yorkshire (which might explain a thing or two about family traits) in 1908 and, having bought the run-down Trinity Manor, set about rebuilding it in the style of a French Chateau. John had no memory of his mother, Betty (neé Hanbury) who died when he was only three years old. She fell from her horse and was killed during a drag hunt. His father was something of a disciplinarian who sent his son away to Winchester College boarding school when he was 14, meaning that he spent the early war years in England.
He married Penelope (Peppy) Harrison in 1956 and they had two daughters, Anna and Bridget. Determined to play a full part in island life, he stood for election to the States and topped the poll for Deputy in St Helier No 1 District in 1963, just one year after leaving the Army. Despite, by his own admission ‘not liking politics very much’ due to having to make decisions that affected so many people in ways that not all of them would appreciate, his talents were quickly recognised and he served on Education, Gambling Control and the Prison Board, before becoming president of Agriculture in 1969.
Three years later he was elected president of the Defence Committee, which was then Jersey’s equivalent of the British ‘Home Office’. It was a difficult time in many ways, especially for the Police, both States and Honorary, with friction between the two services. If ever a man was uniquely qualified for the job it was he, with his preference for quiet, detailed deliberation and cool judgment. It was the introduction of his modernising Police Force Law in 1974 which, in effect, brought Jersey policing into the 20th century without discarding any of the valuable traditions and virtues of the centuries old honorary system.
Elected Senator
His achievements were recognised by the electorate when he spent the last six years of his political life as a Senator. On his return to Jersey and the ownership of the large Trinity Manor estate, he set about establishing a prize-winning Jersey dairy herd, which was the foundation of the truly splendid herd that graces the manor fields today. In one of the best traditions of Jersey life he was also able to combine his farming life with a passion for boats.
Despite the tragic death of his mother, John Riley’s life-long love of horses saw him become Joint Master of the Jersey Drag Hunt in 1982. The hounds had been kennelled at Trinity Manor since the early 60s and their baying at mealtimes was a common sound in the parish. His diplomatic skills were useful when he was given responsibility for marking out the routes for the hunt which became more difficult every year as the number of riders increased almost in direct inverse proportion to the fields available for riding over. He could be seen walking the parish lanes in the morning exercising his pack of 30 drag hounds, in summer on foot, maintaining control most of the time, although he was once tested severely by an escaped Wallaby from the zoo which stood nervously surveying the pack.
He remained master until his 70s, passionate about maintaining the hunt and would be thrilled to see it still thriving today. He introduced the pony club to the island in the early 60s to inspire a new generation of riders which his wife ran for over 20 years. He may have made his greatest impact within the local horse-riding community, however, when he gleefully played the part of an ugly sister in the pony club pantomime.
Formalities
Always keen to reduce the formality of any occasion, while hosting an evening barbecue at the manor for the Royal Yacht Squadron he was asked by one of the yacht guests about his ‘dogs’. Judging, on this occasion, that actions would speak louder than words, he thought it might be instructive to let the hounds join the party to race around the garden and finish off the sausages.
One of his duties as Seigneur de la Trinite was to present the visiting Monarch with a pair of Mallard ducks in full plumage dressed in ribbons on a silver salver. He was obliged to call on the help of his friend Gerald Durrell to supply the birds and presented them to her Majesty and Prince Philip. Later that evening at a formal dinner he was approached by the Duke of Edinburgh seeking provenance of the birds, to which he replied that he was sorry to have to tell the president of the wildlife trust that they had been supplied by his organisation, which appealed hugely to the Duke's quirky sense of humour.
When he left government he was appointed chairman of Channel Television and came up against another dilemma of the Zeitgeist; censorship. He defined the problem thus: ‘The distinction between what is of interest to the public and what is in the public interest is a fine one’. While chairman he could not resist the temptation of a broadcast on 1 April, concocting an interview with himself as master of the Drag Hunt, describing a rare marsupial called a Drag-it, versus a willing young friend to pose as an angry saboteur. He argued his case for chasing this little creature twice a week with poker face and so the April fool was broadcast. He was also a director of Jersey Gas, Air UK and Chase Bank.
On many occasions he opened the manor grounds for fund raising and charity events, notably when a fete was held to raise funds for Trinity Youth Centre. His most lasting legacy, however, may well be the gifting to the parish of a manor field for use half by Trinity Football Club and half by the primary school as a sports field.
John Riley was an exceptional man whose qualities a short article probably cannot do justice to. As an island we should be thankful for his calm, reflective application to the onerous task of government. As a parish we should remember him for all those things which can be encapsulated in the single phrase ‘an Officer and a Gentleman’.
