Ancestral Tourism 4: Houses & Business Premises

This is part four in my ‘Ancestral Tourism’ series. It follows on from Part 1: Churches and Churchyards, Part 2: Municipal & other Public Cemeteries and Part 3: Graves and Gravestones. The focus in this little series is on planning ahead so that you can spend the time when you’re there exploring, wandering, taking photographs and soaking up the vibes of the place.

In this post we’re looking at preparing for visiting former ancestral homes and business premises that are still standing. Trying to locate buildings no longer in existence will be covered in a future post.

Before you go

How do we know where our ancestors lived?
A range of documents may include the specific address or property name, or other clues as to the location of a former home or business of our ancestors. Examples are:

  • Church records, such as Baptism, Marriage, Burial and maybe wider parish records
  • Civil Registration: Birth, Marriage and Death Certificates
  • Census records
  • Correspondence between the person and an official body, sometimes found in archives, e.g. National Archives
  • Directories
  • Electoral Rolls
  • Family business records
  • Family documents, including letters and perhaps a family bible or other religious text
  • Immigration and Naturalisation documents
  • Military Records, including attestations and next of kin
  • Newspaper reports
  • Poll Books
  • Probate Records, Wills, etc
  • Property and Land records, including deeds, local tax, etc
  • Public and Municipal Cemetery registers
  • School records

It’s certainly easier to track our more recent ancestors.
For earlier generations, even where we find an abode in the examples above, often an exact ‘address’ was not used. A street name without house number, or for smaller places even just the name of the village or hamlet may be the closest we’ll get. During the second half of the 19th century we find more documents that include information to guide us to a specific property. Earlier this year I visited Kinver in Staffordshire, where my 2x great grandfather and some of his siblings were born. The image below shows the extent of Kinver now, as viewed from the churchyard high on a hill above the village. The main High Street, dating from medieval times, is clearly seen in the image. Most of the properties beyond that are more recent. ‘Somewhere in this photo’ is the closest I will ever get to knowing where my ancestors lived here – but I’m happy with that.

Kinver viewed from the church. © Janice Heppenstall

Beware! House names and even house numbers can change
Even when documents do bear a house number or name, these may have changed – particularly if there was much additional building in the twentieth century. I researched the history of a house built around 1837 in what is now a built-up area of the Isle of Wight. The house number is 21, and my clients had already done some research into the nineteenth century inhabitants of ‘number 21’. However, using maps and other documentation I found that the house became number 21 only in the early twentieth century. For the first eighty or so years it was number 3. The change had become necessary to accommodate new building over the previous decades.

Similarly, a few years ago, I visited York to see my family’s properties there. Census records had my 4xG grandparents at 58 Stonegate. I found the property and photographed it, but afterwards realised Stonegate had been renumbered. Eventually I worked out that their shop (and the floors above above, where they lived) had been this well-known corner plot, below, that was later taken over by Banks & Sons. I had been sitting right opposite this shop (in Betty’s tearoom, for those who know!) without knowing it was my ancestral home. It took a lot of research to work this out. But this is what happens when we don’t do our homework before we set off! Now I have to go back to York to step inside this lovely shop. Luckily, visiting York is never a chore.

An early twentieth century scene from York, showing part of Stonegate and featuring the corner shop at that time occuped by Banks and Sons Music Sellers. York Minster is visible in the background
Junction of Stonegate with St Helen’s Square, York. Image in public domain, photographer unknown.

Changes in house name can be even more difficult to work with, particularly if several houses on the street seem to have changed name, and possibly more houses may have been built between the original ones.

So how can we be sure we have the right house?
Here are some ideas.

Photographs
If you’re lucky you may have an old family photo of the house. Even photos of people standing outside a property may provide visual clues in the form of distinctive architectural features. You can then use Google Street View to ‘walk’ along the road to find the property, if it’s still there.

Family and Local History groups on Facebook are also extremely useful for identifying the exact location of a photograph. I once witnessed someone posting an ancestral holiday snap and asking if anyone knew where in the world it could be. Within fifteen minutes it was identified as beneath a specific lamp post in a named piazza in Rome!

It’s also worth exploring whether there’s a website with old photos of your area of interest. The best one I know is Leodis, a photographic archive with over 62,000 images of Leeds, managed by the Local and Family History team at Leeds Libraries. I have found many old images of houses my ancestors lived in on there – in streets that now no longer exist. If you know of such a website for any of your areas of interest, please do share in a comment.

Maps
Mention has already been made of Google Street View. Modern day maps – including Google and other online maps – can be scrutinised alongside historic maps. My go-to place for online Ordnance Survey maps is here: https://maps.nls.uk/os/ I’ve written before about their Side-by-Side maps, but there are many other features. Something you could do is find a detailed historic map (the 25 inches to one mile series if possible) on the nls site, and see if you can compare the shapes of buildings then to existing buildings on satellite view now.

‘Walking the route’ with the census enumerator
With no photos and only documents to go on, it may be possible, using modern and contemporary maps, to ‘follow the route’ of a census enumerator. Using landmarks and occurences of smaller streets, you may be able to find the house, or at the very least to work out its general whereabouts, even if it’s not possible to narrow it down to a specific property.

Getting to know the neighbours
Using census returns for the street where your ancestors lived, it might be possible to track any changes in housenames or numbers of specific families whose occupation spans two or more decades. If the Jones family live at number 42, the Smiths at 44 and the Browns at 46, and then ten years later the same three families are at 58, 60 and 62, it is more likely that the numbering has changed than that all three families relocated together further along the same street. You can do the same thing far more accurately by consulting Electoral Registers. In the example above of my clients’ house starting out as Number 3 and eventually becoming Number 21, I could see from the Electoral Registers that this change happened in 1931. However, Electoral Registers are often not accessible online, meaning this may be something you could do only when you arrive in the area. Local archives and central libraries will usually have these registers.

What if your family’s presence predates the census?
Below is part of Starbotton, in Upper Wharfedale, where my period of interest, before 1750, predates the census. Before going I ‘walked the route’ using Google ‘Map View’ on one device and ‘Street View’ on another to be sure to cover the whole village. By the time I visited, last summer, I knew this small village like the back of my hand. However, I had no idea which house had been owned by my 8x great grandparents and later their son, my 7x great grandfather. Apart from church records and similar, indicating that the family lived in ‘Starbotton’, I was very lucky to come across a collection of property reports made over the years by the Yorkshire Vernacular Buildings Study Group. These, in turn, drew upon other property documentation at the County Record Office. I was able to identify several specific houses formerly owned by my wider ancestral family in Starbotton, and to pay special attention to them when I visited. I never did find out where my 7x and 8x grandparents lived, though, and it’s possible their house may no longer be standing. However, I can name the late seventeenth century inhabitants of around half of the properties, and I know that most of mine lived in the part of the village pictured below.

A rural village scene with seventeenth century stone houses surrounded by hills and trees
Part of Starbotton, Upper Wharfedale, Yorkshire. © Janice Heppenstall

When you arrive

If the occupants were in the garden I would probably chat to them, tell them about my connection and ask permission to photograph the house from the street. If they wanted to know more about who lived there I would tell them. If they were not there I’d take the photos anyway. Just taking a few photos, wandering up and down the street, touching the wall… I find all these things bring me closer to my ancestors who lived there.

If your ancestors had a shop or public house, if the school they attended is now a business centre, or if for some other reason their former home or premises are open to the public, it would be lovely to step inside and spend a little time there.

I also enjoy seeing historic buildings and landmarks that my ancestors would have known, and just getting a feel for the area and the local history. You can do this even if the house they lived in is no longer there.

Depending on the size of the place you’re visiting, and its historic importance or embracing of tourism, you might be able to pre-book a tour with an accredited guide.

If you can’t get there

It really does make a difference going there, but if that’s not possible, just doing the research outlined above will leave you knowing a great deal more about your ancestral homes and the localities they lived in. You can also take a screen shot of your ancestral properties using Google Street View, and of course connect with online and local groups to find out more and see if anyone has any photos.

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If you have other ideas please do leave a comment.

Getting the most from cemetery records

Today’s post is an interloper amongst my little ‘Ancestral Tourism’ series. It follows on from Part 1: Churches and Churchyards, Part 2: Municipal & other Public Cemeteries and Part 3: Graves and Gravestones. I’ve stepped away from the ‘Ancestral Tourism’ series here because this is something you can do online, whether you visit the grave or not – although it is, of course, also great preparation for a trip to the actual cemeteries.

The aim here is to show how the information from various records relating to burials, and even the same records on different platforms – including the gravestone itself if there is one – can be combined to give a greater depth of knowledge and understanding about an ancestor and their family. This technique of layering up information from different records works equally well with other aspects of an ancestor’s life, of course, but here I’m focusing on burial.

I hope this will be of interest to readers researching at Intermediate level, or moving on from Beginner to Intermediate level.

First, a comparison of records from two different cemeteries

Precisely what is included on the record varies from one cemetery to another, and possibly from time to time. I can illustrate this by comparing burial records for two of my ancestors: a 4xG grandmother and a 2xG grandmother. Both died after the introduction of Civil Birth, Marriages and Deaths, and I had already located the death entries on the General Register Office (GRO) online register, and bought one of the Death Certificates.

What the records include
This first record is from York’s Fulford Cemetery. It includes so much information that there is no need to buy a Death Certificate. CLICK FOR BIG!

Burial record of Sarah Wade, 14 Mar 1860, Fulford Cemetery York. Source: FamilySearch.org York: Cemetery Records 1837–1871, image 363/812

Here, we see that Sarah Wade, bottom entry, was buried in the York Public Cemetery at Fulford Road in 1860. She has the burial reference ID of 11,365 and is interred in Grave number 3837. She died on 9th March 1860 and was buried on 14th March. Sarah was 75 when she died and was the wife of John Wade, gentleman. They lived in Stonegate, York, but the number of the property is not given. Cause of death was pneumonia. The informant was Edwin Wade of 4 Coney Street, York. The final column is the name of the officiating minister.

There is more to this information than meets the eye. Sarah is the wife of John Wade. This means he is still living. You can see that the entry above Sarah’s describes the deceased, Emily Johnstone, as ‘Relict of the late Spearman Johnstone, Gentleman’. A less formal term would simply be ‘Widow’.

The second and third entries in this extract are both men. One is a Captain in the Militia; the other a Fishmonger. Men, then, are described by their Trade, Occupation or Profession. Women are described by their marital status, or ‘condition as to marriage’. The top entry is a child. Children are described as ‘Son/Daughter of’ followed by the father’s name.

The informant is not John the husband, but another man with the surname Wade, therefore probably related. He is in fact the oldest son of Sarah and John, and he is clearly used to signing documents with a flourish!

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The next record is from Beckett Street Cemetery in Leeds.  The cream line just indicates where I have removed several lines from the page because it’s only Annie E Cass that we’re considering here.

Extract from a burial register dated 1926. The original image has been edited to remove several entries, leaving only the top one, plus the headings for each of the columns, and the record of Annie E Cass who was buried on 17th December 1926.
Burial record of Annie E Cass, 17th December 1926, Beckett Street Cemetery, Leeds.
Source: ancestry.co.uk Leeds, England, Beckett Street Cemetery, 1845-1987

In this record we see that Annie E Cass, bottom entry, was buried at The ‘Leeds Burial Ground’.  This is the same as ‘Beckett Street Cemetery’.  She was buried in the consecrated portion on 17th December 1926.  Address at time of death was 76 Institution Street, Leeds.  Annie was 76 years old and a Widow – again, we see that the top entry, a man, is described by his profession.  Annie in fact ran a business after her husband’s death 28 years earlier, but this is not mentioned.  The penultimate column is for the signature or name of officiating clergyman or minister, and finally we have the Grave plot number, which is 9419.

There is not as much information as on the Fulford Cemetery entry above.  We don’t have an informant or date of death, and the late husband’s name is not included.  We also don’t have a cause of death.  To cover all bases on this one we might want to purchase the Death Certificate. What we do know, however, is that Annie was buried in the Consecrated Portion of the cemetery. She was therefore Church of England. (I already knew that as I have her baptism record, but sometimes every little helps!)

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Gathering information from several documents and platforms

Now I’m going to home in on Annie, or Annie Elizabeth Cass to use her full married name. I want to see if I can add to my knowledge and understanding of her life and family by looking closely at all the records I can find relating to her burial.

The information from FindAGrave (below) is a transcript compiled directly from Annie’s burial entry above. You can see that all the information is accurate, but the marital status is not included, and it is not clear whether Annie died on 17th December or was buried on that date. This is why seeing the original is always preferable, but if that’s not possible, a transcript is infinitely better than nothing. In fact I do already know that Annie died on 14th December, because I did previously buy a copy of her Death Certificate. I also know that she was in hospital when she died, not at her home in Institution Street; and I know which of her children was the informant, and his address at the time – which in turn tells me he was still living in December 1926.

Screenshot from FindAGrave showing information about the burial place of Anne E Cass, including the location of the plot and a transcript of information from the original burial register.
Extract from FindAGrave showing burial information for Annie E Cass. © FindAGrave

So why did I bother looking at FindAGrave?
In this case I had two reasons for doing so:

  • I wanted to see if there was a photograph of the gravestone;
  • I was creating a list of all my ancestors and their children buried at Beckett Street Cemetery, and since I already had information from the GRO online register about the deaths of each, the search process on FindAGrave is much quicker and easier than searching on Ancestry. The resulting list is below:
A table created in Word with a list of people, all with the surname 'Cass', and other information about each of them, specifically about their place of burial.

By compiling a list of all my ancestors and their children at this cemetery I was able to see which ones were buried in the same plots as other family members. Here, I identified six members of the Cass family, all in Plot 9419. I made similar lists for all my family members at various public and municipal cemeteries. This will make it easier to navigate the cemeteries when I visit.

The fact that Annie Elizabeth and her husband John William Cass were able to purchase a family plot tells me something about the financial situation of this family. Many of my ancestors at this time couldn’t do so. I already knew they had a family business so this was not a surprise. I expected, too, that there would be an inscribed headstone. However, although many of the entries at FindAGrave are accompanied by a photograph of the grave, this one isn’t.  My plan was to take a photograph when I visited myself.

Additional information on Friends of Becket Street Cemetery website
This was the point I had reached when I wrote my last post, about Municipal and Public Cemeteries; and that was when I found the fantastic Friends of Beckett Street Cemetery website.

Using the public search facilities on the Friends website, and bearing in mind I already had a lot of information about this family, including the plot number where they are buried, I was able to do the following:

  • View the cemetery register. I already had access to this register via my subscription to Ancestry.co.uk. so there was nothing new for me personally here.
  • Locate the grave on a map of the cemetery.
  • Locate the grave on a spreadsheet. Here, it is recorded that in fact there is no headstone for the family plot. This surprised me.
  • The spreadsheet also provided a tantalising promise of some extra information. I found there were seven people buried in this plot, rather than the six I already knew about. However, to see the list of people (and more) I needed to become a Friend of the cemetery. This costs £10 per year. Bearing in mind the number of ancestors I have in this cemetery, and the good work the Friends do, this was worth it.
  • Having paid the membership fee I could now view the names of all occupants of this plot, and use various methods of searching the dedicated Beckett Street Cemetery database, which yielded better results than searching on the huge Ancestry database.
  • There is also a virtual walk along the various paths so that you can locate and see the plot you’re interested in.

**Obviously, every ‘Friends Of’ group will provide different search facilities.**

Here’s the new information I got about this family, and how I was able to use it

The first thing to note is that the ‘Person ID’ on the FindAGrave website is a ‘FindAGrave’ ID. The cemetery Person ID/Reference is different, so I have amended my lists to include both.

Next, I was anticipating the the unknown additional person could be a missing child. My research showed that Annie Elizabeth lost four of her children in infancy, but on the 1911 Census she wrote that she had lost seven children and had six still living. I knew this to be inaccurate, because seven of the children were still living in 1911. However, this still suggests two missing babies. Might one of them be buried in the family plot?

Alternatively, could the extra person be Annie Elizabeth’s oldest daughter. Aged 40, she was still living with her mother in 1911 but was nowhere to be found in 1921. Had she died? It seemed inconceivable that she wouldn’t have been buried in the family plot.

The extra person turned out to be Annie Elizabeth’s mother-in-law, Elizabeth Cass. Elizabeth died in 1878. She is the mother of Annie Elizabeth’s second husband, John William Cass, and they are not my ancestors. Although I had her name and some brief details from a census record I had not researched her. This record provided her burial dates and also her address, which was the same shop and living quarters above the shop that I knew to be the home of Annie Elizabeth and husband John William Cass in the 1870s.

This prompted me to look for a burial record for Elizabeth’s husband, William Cass, located quickly on the Friends of Beckett Street Cemetery website. He too had died at the same address, five years earlier. Using death certificates and baptism records for several of Annie Elizabeth’s children, I was able to calculate that she had moved into the shop with her husband and children after the death of Elizabeth’s husband/ John William’s father. The possibility that they had taken over an existing family business was not something I had previously considered.

As for the missing deceased children – the little ones are still missing. I suspect Annie Elizabeth may have included stillborn children in her totals. I have long suspected that women did this on the 1911 Census as a way of commemorating their children who never had a proper burial.

However, this new information also prompted me to renew my efforts to find Annie Elizabeth’s oldest daughter. I found she had married shortly after the 1911 census and in 1921 was living with her husband and a daughter, whose life I will now have to follow through.

How strange that all this should be resolved as a result of examining cemetery records! Plus I am now a member of the Friends of Beckett Street Cemetery!

It all goes to show we should examine closely, keep an open mind, follow all leads and cross-reference. I hope you’ve found this useful, and that it might prompt you to look again at some of your mysteries.


Ancestral Tourism 3: How to read a cemetery

Ryde Cemetery, Isle of Wight. © Janice Heppenstall

This is the third in my ‘Ancestral Tourism’ series, and follows on from posts about preparing for visiting Churches and Churchyards and Public & Municipal Centuries featuring in our ancestry. In those previous posts, the focus was on knowing the history, finding the records and then finding any maps of the churchyards and cemeteries. In this post we’re going to be ‘reading’ the burial ground. What can we deduce from the location, the headstone (or absence of a headstone), the symbolism and anything else that will give us clues as to our ancestor’s life and social standing?

Please be prepared before applying what follows to your own family that there is a possibility that not all your ancestors will have well-kept headstones in peaceful and picturesque settings within the churchyard or cemetery. Some may have been buried with unrelated people in common graves, with or without a headstone. This is part of their story, and the story of the times in which they lived, but it can be upsetting to find.

Consecrated or Unconsecrated?

As outlined in my last post, from the middle of the nineteenth century the Burial Acts required that half of any new Municipal or Public cemetery was to remain ‘unconsecrated’. The other half would therefore be ‘consecrated’. What does this mean?

Consecrated

  1. Dedicated to a sacred purpose; made sacred; hallowed, sanctified.
  2. Dedicated, ‘sacred’ to a tutelary divinity.
  3. figurative. Sanctioned by general observance or usage.

Oxford English Dictionary (Online)

Although the online Oxford English Dictionary gives the above definition, in relation specifically to burial grounds in England and Wales it is a centuries-old term referring to land that has been blessed and set apart for Christian burial according to the rites of the Church of England (in Wales now, Church in Wales). ‘Unconsecrated’ referred to any portion not blessed or made sacred according to those rites. Before the mid-1800s, when most burials took place in the graveyard of the parish church, the official burial had to be conducted by an Anglican clergyman in accordance with the Church of England prayer book service. This applied even to those who had, in life, followed different religious practices. However, such people were not eligible for burial within the Consecrated area of the graveyard. They were buried in a separate Unconsecrated section. This applied also to babies who died before they were baptised and, before 1823, to suicides.

Also mentioned in my last post, the development of the new Public Cemeteries from the 1820s and Municipal Cemeteries from the 1840s coincided with a greater acceptance and recognition of different religious practices. Here, the term ‘Consecrated’ was kept but now, in the ‘Unconsecrated’ portion of the cemetery, the burial service itself was likely to have been carried out in accordance with the rites of the deceased’s religion. Today there is greater recognition of the different rites and practices developed by different religions and cultures in commemorating their dead. Although some dedicated cemeteries exist, there are also separate areas for specific faiths within public cemeteries. However, back when our ancestors were being buried it was simply ‘Consecrated’ or ‘Unconsecrated’, and eventually over time the terms ‘Anglican’ and ‘Nonconformist’ came to be used. Although in England and Wales today we use the latter term for Protestants who are not part of the Church of England, in earlier times it was used for anyone whose religious beliefs differed from the established church, the Church of England. It therefore referred also to Roman Catholics, for example. As can be seen from the image above and that below, separate registers were kept for these two sections of the cemetery.

Follow the clues

Finding your ancestor in one or the other may come as a surprise. If so, this is extra valuable information about your ancestors. Precisely what it tells you will depend on the context. For example, all in the same cemetery:

  • My Irish-born 2x great grandfather’s burial is recorded on the very page you see above. He was buried in the Unconsecrated part because he was Roman Catholic.
  • My 4x great uncle’s burial is also in the Unconsecrated part. This is because he and his family worshipped at the Wesleyan chapel.
  • I had a question mark about the denomination of an ancestor from Ulster. He was buried in the Consecrated portion of the cemetery, but his first child with his English, Anglican, wife was baptised in the Roman Catholic church. His burial seem to settle the question… or did it? There remains the possibility that he was simply not a church goer, and by the time of his death his adult children just didn’t know he was actually Roman Catholic.
  • The burial of another 2x great grandfather in the Anglican part of the cemetery in 1898 was interesting because he took his own life. This gave me a reason to research the burial of suicides. Suicides had traditionally been buried at a crossroads, sometimes with a stake through the heart. The Burial of Suicides Act, 1823, banned such practices. It permitted burial of suicides in consecrated ground, but only at night and without a Christian service. With the passage of the nineteenth century came a greater understanding of mental health, and the term ‘Of unsound mind’ came to be used by Coroners. In 1882, the 1823 Act was repealed, and replaced with the Internments (felo de se) Act. This permitted the burial of those who had taken their own lives at any hour and with the usual religious rites, including in a churchyard at any hour. However, suicide would not be decriminalised until 1961.

Burying in style!

There were great differences between the funeral and burial practices of rich and poor. For the wealthy, this could be a no-expense-spared event from start to finish: an opportunity to be seen to be ‘doing things properly’ according to the etiquette that had grown up around funerals. Obituaries in the newspapers will give you an idea of the size and scale of a grand funeral.

In the cemetery there are more clues. These include the location of the grave. A prime position with good views cost more. It may also have been possible to pay extra for a nine foot deep grave rather than the usual six feet, although you won’t be able to see that from the grave itself. A deeper burial was thought to help preserve the body.

A range of funerary monuments were also available, ranging from mausolea, cenotaphs, tomb chests and sculptures to headstones and more simple marker stones. Historic England have produced a guide to Caring for Historic Cemetery and Graveyard Monuments which includes descriptions of the various types.

If you’d like to know more about a whole range of roles, customs and traditions linked to death and funerals, Friends of Beckett Street Cemetery in Leeds have compiled an excellent overview of Victorian funeral traditions and etiquette. Some of these would have been de rigeur amongst the wealthier folk but others applied more widely. Even when I was growing up I remember people closing the sitting room curtains after a death in the home.

Symbolism

Victorians loved symbolism, and the various monuments and gravestones were the perfect canvas for this form of expression. On their website, Arnos Vale Cemetery, Bristol, make the point that when larger public cemeteries started to appear, much of the population was not literate. The symbols found on graves made them more meaningful for someone who may not be able to read the words. Even today, if we understand the symbolism, a whole new layer of understanding opens up to us as we walk amongst the gravestones. Perhaps there might be clues on the gravestones of some of your ancestors, letting you know what was important to them and their loved ones. You might even come across some symbolism pointing you to membership of the Freemasons or similar, which would then open up a new line of research for you. The Funeral Directors association and Family Tree Magazine have also published useful lists of symbolism and meanings.

It was a surprise to walk around Ryde Cemetery after reading them and to note the symbolism on a lot of the stones and monuments. This ‘broken’ column represents a life cut short, and the anchor symbolises EITHER hope, steadfastness, and the secure connection to God or eternal life OR a seafaring life, perhaps with the Navy – or perhaps both. Since Ryde is on an island, either is possible and now I’m thinking I should have spent longer and read the inscription to find out more…

Symbolism of elaborate headstone in Ryde Cemetery, Isle of Wight. Image © Janice Heppenstall

Different types of grave

For those with the ability to pay for a private grave, there were:

  • single plots, intended for one person in a coffin
  • companion plots, intended for a couple, perhaps side by side
  • family plots, where several members of the same family can be buried together.

A certificate or “grave paper” documented the purchase. (I have one of these, purchased by a 2xG grandfather on the death of his wife in 1875.)

A purchased plot does not necessarily mean our ancestors will also have purchased a headstone, so you may need to navigate to your ancestor’s final resting place with the aid of only the plot number and a site map. The location of such plots, amongst others with headstones, should enable you to differentiate them from the common graves detailed below.

One of the motivations for the publicly-funded Municipal Cemeteries was the ability to provide for all social levels, including some lower cost options so that the labouring classes could afford to bury their dead with dignity.

A Common grave was a plot that belonged to the cemetery, not an individual or family, and was used to bury unrelated people. There were several different types of common grave, and the costs for the different types varied:

  • Lock-up graves: these were the cheapest type of grave. They were filled over the course of a few days as more bodies became ready for burial. Between each burial the soil was not replaced. Instead, a wooden ‘door’ was locked in place over the grave. When the grave had the required number of deceased people, the earth was piled on top. These were also called Open graves.
  • Public graves: like lock-up graves, these were filled up as newly deceased unrelated individuals became ready for burial. The difference is that these graves were refilled with earth after each new burial. They were therefore a little more expensive.
  • Note that ‘Pauper’s grave’ was not an official term and probably more rightly refers to the burial administration rather than to the grave itself – a Pauper’s burial. Essentially, before 1834, paupers were buried at the expense of the parish, and after that at the expense of the Board of Guardians. There was no unnecessary expense. The actual grave would have been one of the above types of common grave with no inscription, probably a lock-up grave where that was an option. Local authorities remain responsible today for the burial of a deceased person leaving no funds for a funeral and no one else to arrange it.
  • Inscription graves: For a small additional fee, a deceased person could be buried in a common grave but with a headstone inscribed with the name, date of death and age of every occupant. Some of the headstones may have had bodies arranged on both sides with inscriptions on both sides of the stone. These are a feature of the municipal cemeteries in Leeds – in fact every reference I have come across online relates to Beckett Street or another of the Leeds cemeteries. Here, they are known as ‘Guinea Graves’, that being the original cost of burial in one of these Inscription graves. If you are aware of this type of grave (Inscription or Guinea Graves) elsewhere in the country, please leave a comment saying where and by what term they are known – thanks.
Guinea Graves at Hunslet Cemetery © Stephen Craven at Wikipedia Commons

Some notes

For overseas readers (or very young British readers, perhaps!), a guinea was a British coin, originally minted in 1663 with a value of £1 (One Pound). Eventually it came to have the value of £1 – 1 s (One pound one shilling, i.e. 21 shillings). Even after the guinea coin ceased to circulate, the term remained as a unit of account worth 21 shillings. As late as the 1970s it was used for the quoting of professional fees and luxury items.

I have previously written about how to ‘read’ a Commonwealth War Graves Cemetery [here].

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I have become rather more fascinated with municipal cemeteries than anticipated! My next post will be about getting the most from different cemetery records, before returning in the post after that to Ancestral Tourism: houses and places our ancestors knew.

Ancestral Tourism 2: Public & Municipal Cemeteries

Ryde Cemetery, Isle of Wight. © Janice Heppenstall

This follows on from my last post: Ancestral Tourism 1: Churches and Churchyards. It focuses on locating and visiting graves of our ancestors whose final resting place is in one of the large municipal or other public cemeteries in our towns and cities rather than in a church graveyard.

First, a bit of history

The emergence of large public cemeteries is an interesting part of our social history, connecting with several other developments of the nineteenth century that will be familiar to local and family historians. The migrations and population booms of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries created not only a lack of housing for the living but also of burial grounds for the dead – and all the more so in the growing industrial towns and cities. The historic churchyard burial grounds posed problems on several fronts: they were generally small, overcrowded, often laid out in a haphazard manner; and as knowledge of hygiene and sanitation developed, there were concerns about the spread of disease, particularly since in towns and cities these small burial grounds were generally alongside the church and surrounded by closely packed housing.

The initial response to this problem was to turn to the private sector. Throughout the 1820s and 1830s a number of ‘garden cemeteries’ were established to serve big industrial towns, including Manchester, Liverpool, Birmingham, Leeds, Sheffield, Newcastle and later, London. These cemeteries were private commercial ventures set up under individual Acts of Parliament. They were large, well-planned spaces, often designed by the same architects and landscape designers who created public parks. Some of these garden cemeteries may be well-known to us. They include Highgate in London, Undercliffe in Bradford and Arnos Vale in Bristol.

Some of the early cemeteries were developed by and for Nonconformists. As outlined in my last post, the general practice was for Nonconformists to be buried in the parish churchyard and the service officiated by the Anglican vicar. Many prominent philanthropic capitalists were Nonconformists, and by this time were able to use their wealth and influence to bring about changes including, here, the freedom to bury their dead and conduct services according to their own beliefs and traditions. Well-known Nonconformist cemeteries include Chorlton Row Cemetery in Manchester, which opened in 1821, Low Hill Cemetery in Liverpool, opened 1825, and Woodhouse Cemetery in Leeds, 1835. It is interesting to note that it was around the same time that the State removed control of recording births (or rather baptisms), marriages and deaths (or rather burials) from the Church of England and placed that responsibility with a new General Register Office: the introduction of Civil BMDs in 1837.

Generally speaking, though, these cemeteries were money-making enterprises, serving the upper and middle classes. There was no increase in provision for the labouring classes. The response from some local authorities was to develop more cemeteries but funded by public money. Early examples are St Bartholomew’s Cemetery in Exeter, which opened in 1837, Beckett Street and Hunslet Cemeteries in Leeds, both opened 1845, and Southampton Old Cemetery, 1846. This was the beginning of the Municipal Cemeteries – publicly funded, and owned/ managed by the local corporation.

The Metropolitan Burial Act of 1852, and other Acts of Parliament that followed, empowered local authorities to establish public cemeteries and close previous overcrowded burial grounds. The new cemeteries would have uniform hygiene standards and procedures for burial, would cater for all social levels, including some lower cost options for decent burials, and would offer burial options with dedicated areas for people of all religious affiliations. Half of any new cemetery was to remain unconsecrated, allowing for burials without the Church of England service. Later, in 1879, the The Public Health (Interments) Act made it a duty of local health authorities to provide cemeteries if local conditions required it.

Historic England have produced a List of Registered Cemeteries, arranged in date order. Information is provided for each, including design, designer, whether private or municipal, and important or interesting features.

There is also a nationwide map published by the Institute of Cemetery and Crematorium Management which includes every cemetery and crematorium in the land. I’ve checked out all the ones I know and they are all present and correct.

Since there is a similarity in records of these different types of public cemetery, the following notes about how to plan for your visit is intended to cover all of them. There are in any case differences from one cemetery to another, regardless of how they came into being.

Planning your visit

Allow plenty of time for this – there is a lot of research and planning to do!

Locating the records

  • Needless to say, the first thing you need is to know the cemetery in which your ancestor is buried. We’ll start by looking at who holds the records, moving on to which of them might be online.
  • Since Municipal Cemeteries are managed by the local authority, it is they who hold the records for these cemeteries. Often, this team is known as ‘Cemeteries and Crematoria’, or ‘Cems and Crems’ for short. You can find them online by using either of these phrases as search terms and adding the name of your town or city of interest.
  • Some local authorities offer a look-up service. For example, Leeds Cems and Crems provide a list of all cemeteries, together with opening date. They require the name of the deceased, the date of burial and the cemetery, and will ‘check the records and if the information is correct […] let you know the grave number and section or where in the grounds the cremated remains were strewn.’ Some Cems and Crems teams charge for this service; others do not.
  • Some local authorities have databases available online so you can check for yourself. For example, Birmingham Cems and Crems have separate online searchable databases for each of their twelve cemeteries.
  • Privately owned cemeteries keep their own records. Information can be accessed via their websites. For example, at the time of writing, Highgate Cemetery charges £40 for a search. However, they also state that copies of all their records are free to consult at Camden Local Studies and Archives Centre.
  • That said, digital images of the records of some cemeteries are available online. You might find records from your cemetery of interest on your genealogy subscription website; or try looking on FamilySearch. From the home page navigate to Search > Images > insert the name of your place of interest and then select the appropriate era from the drop-down list. From here, you will have to scroll through to see if the records you need are included, and if they are, you will need to browse through the images of the records. Knowing the death date or at least month of death will speed things up. I found all the records from York’s Fulford Cemetery on here – and they are excellent!
  • Transcripts of the records of your cemetery of interest may have been included on FindAGrave (free to use). I have found on there most of my ancestors and their families who were buried in a municipal cemetery, but it is primarily run by volunteers so is inevitably a work in progress.
  • There is also DeceasedOnline, which helps burial authorities and crematoria to convert their register records, maps and photographs into digital form and bring them together into a central searchable collection. There is a fee to see the individual records, and I have not used this website, but it is there as an option should you wish to use it.
  • Locating a Map of the Cemetery

    The cemetery records will hold certain essential information about your ancestor: name, address, date of burial, occupation. There may be more information, but this little lot will enable you to identify the person and be sure it’s your ancestor. There will be one other very important piece of information: the number of the grave or plot where your ancestor is buried.

    Armed with this, what you need now is a map. And on this point it’s a question of digging about online. Here are some places to look:

    • The cemetery’s own website, if they have one. Example: York’s Fulford Cemetery provide section maps on their website.
    • Local authority Cems & Crems may have pages for each of their cemeteries, possibly including maps. Example: Isle of Wight have plot maps of all their cemeteries available for download, for a fee.
    • A lot of the cemeteries have ‘Friends’, and these often have a website with maps. Examples: Friends of Beckett Street Cemetery have an astonishingly good series of online tools to help you locate and navigate your way to your ancestor’s plot. These include locations of plots, numbers and names of occupants in each, whether there is a monument or gravestone, and whether this has been photographed. A different approach is taken at Friends of Southampton Old Cemetery. They provide assistance in locating graves and request a small donation towards their conservation work. Some ‘Friends’ groups have even carried out research into the lives of those buried in the cemetery.
    • Local history or heritage groups may have websites with maps. One the best set of static maps I have found to date is for Ryde Cemetery by Ryde Social Heritage Group. Every plot is shown with the names of the occupants.
    • The local Family History Society may have mapped the cemetery. Example: Isle of Wight.
    • There may be a site map at the cemetery itself, but you will need to know this in advance to avoid disappointment.

Going alone or with a companion
In the course of researching this post I have located every one of my ancestors and all of their children buried in Municipal and Public Cemeteries. Armed with this information, including details of family plots, plus a better understanding of the significance of each of the cemeteries, I feel sufficiently well-informed to be able to make a decision as to whether to inflict a visit to any of them on my nearest, dearest, yet genealogically disinterested. Based on this, I consider one cemetery in Leeds with a single family plot of interest to be acceptable, and another in York with just three relevant family plots. The rest have far too many plots that I would need to visit; and although one – Beckett Street Cemetery in Leeds – may be acceptable on grounds of social history, I simply couldn’t put anyone else through the monotony of locating and visiting the number of graves. Definitely, these will have to be solitary trips for me.

Part of the problem leading to this decision is that although the nineteenth century cemeteries were intended as public landscapes, and are of great historic and heritage value, lack of funding means that many of them have now become neglected. It is here that ‘Friends of’ the individual cemeteries provide a valuable service, carrying out conservation and environmental work and delivering ecological benefits – but not every cemetery has a Friends group, and some are less active than others.

You might find that the ‘Friends of’ your cemetery of interest provide tours from time to time. It might be possible to arrange your visit to coincide with that, then stay on afterwards to visit your family’s graves. Interesting for you and they will appreciate the income.

If you can’t go

There is so much information to be found online. By doing the research outlined above, making full use of online material and even, where possible, via the ‘Friends of’ website, FindAGrave or a Facebook page, requesting a photo. You can also search online for images of the cemetery. Adding “wikimedia commons” to your search term will return a selection of images that are free to use provided you credit the photographer.

Be forewarned though that the inscription on images is not always legible. This could be because of sunlight conditions on the day, severe weathering over time, or possibly just because of the quality of the image when reduced for web use. The following wonderfully clear image is from FindAGrave, but some of the images of my family’s gravestones cannot be read at all.

Image © Rachel79; source: FindAGrave

*****

I hope this has given you some ideas for how to plan for a visit to a Municipal or Public Cemetery. Researching it has certainly focused my mind and I’ve found it fascinating. So fascinating, in fact, that I will be slotting in an extra couple of posts about cemeteries before progressing to finding about former homes and business premises of our ancestors in the post after that. 🙂

Ancestral Tourism 1: Churches and Churchyards

For many of us, there comes a time in our ancestral journey that we want to know more about the places where our ancestors lived. For the truly obsessed, this can take the form of a One-Place Study. However, for the majority of family historians, and indeed for many of our ancestors, simply visiting the place where they lived will be enough to provide that extra insight we’re looking for.

Bringing a companion

What might, for us, be termed ‘Ancestral Tourism’ could simply be an enjoyable day out for any family and friends accompanying us. The little stops and circuitous routes wouldn’t be too burdensome on companions, and might be thought to add dimension to a place.

I say this from a position of experience, since I’ve done quite a bit of visiting the ancestors over the years, often accompanied by my husband and dog. The trick is to intersperse the family history with other sightseeing and activities and, above all, to know where to draw the line. There are certain family history activities I would not expect anyone else to put up with. Obviously, visits to the archives and local history libraries fall within this bracket. I would also make a distinction between a small, picturesque churchyard and a huge, sprawling, possibly unkempt municipal cemetery. I would definitely walk alone around inner city industrial or derelict areas where ancestors used to live in streets and houses that no longer exist. For all of those, if I can’t make the time to go alone, I don’t go.

A bit of ancestral tourism can involve an hour’s diversion, or a full or half day during a week away. But whether we’re going alone or with companions, there are things we can do to plan ahead to ensure we make the most of our valuable time there.

What to see

There are certain buildings and features I home in on when visiting an ancestral town:

  • the churches or chapels where my ancestors were baptised, married or buried;
  • the churchyard;
  • municipal and/or public cemeteries;
  • former homes and work/business premises;
  • historic buildings and landmarks, and just getting to know the area;
  • pinpointing where an ancestral home that no longer exists used to be;
  • if I’m alone, probably the local County Record Office.

Perhaps you have more suggestions or useful experiences? If so please do leave a comment.

Today’s post will deal with churches and churchyards. The rest will be covered in future posts.

The church

Most of us will never see a photograph or portrait of any of our ancestors beyond the generation living in the last quarter of the nineteenth century.  I have long thought of the parish church as a stand-in.  

I take several photographs of the church from outside, and then if possible move inside to sit awhile and take more photos.  I have a particular connection with baptismal fonts. It seems very personal to me to know I’m standing exactly where my ancestors once stood, right before the font where their child, also my ancestor, was baptised. It’s almost like a portal to that long-ago time.  I also photograph the altar and any other significant features. Some of the churches are of wider historical significance, and beautiful to see. You may also find monuments on the walls or around the church honouring the memory of your ancestors, or possibly inscribed flagstones.

Before you go

It cannot be emphasised enough that you need to allow plenty of time for this research stage. You may need to spend quite a bit of time tracking down this information.

  • Chances are you already know which churches are important in your family history, since you’ll have records from the parish registers, but what we now need to do is look online to see if the church has a website. The Church of England has a site called A Church Near You which includes a page for each church. Some also have their own website with history and lots more information. There may also be information on a local history/ heritage website, or even a Facebook page.
  • For other denominations, Roman Catholic churches may be listed by diocese at The Catholic Church. Baptist churches may be found via The Baptist Union of Great Britain. Quaker Meeting Houses can be located via Quakers in Britain, and so on. Alternatively, you can do an online search for a specific known church or chapel. Again, what we need from all this is the website.
  • Really importantly, check when the church will be open.  Some are open for visitors to walk in any time, but many open only on certain days or certain times of the day, like for a regular lunch or coffee morning. The website may specifically give times when visitors are not welcome to wander around, and clearly we must be mindful of services and private prayer. Obviously, we can photograph the exterior even if the church is closed, but it’s always disappointing not to be able to go inside – and all the more so if you could have organised your visit for the following day when it would have been open.
  • Check that it is in fact the same church your ancestors used.  It may have been completely rebuilt, or at least renovated or had later additions.  Based on this information you may decide not to go – perhaps an image of the original church might be better for your needs.
  • Baptismal fonts, too, may have been replaced.  Again, it’s good to check this before you go. 
Twelfth century baptismal font carved of stone and set on a stone plinth in a church.

St Mary’s church at Kettlewell in Yorkshire’s Upper Wharfedale has been rebuilt twice since the original Norman church was founded in 1120. Of that original twelfth century church, all that remains is the baptismal font. My 7x great grandfather was baptised at this very font (but in the original Norman church) in 1678.

Image: © Janice Heppenstall

A quick tip!
When visiting a lot of places on one trip you can easily forget which photos came from which church/ churchyard. I always take a photo of the noticeboard outside featuring the name of the church and other information.

If you can’t get there – or if the church has been rebuilt

  • Even if you can’t visit yourself, much of the above information is still useful and interesting. I always feel more of a connection if I’ve taken the photographs myself, but you will generally be able to find images online. Searching for your church (or any building of interest) and adding “wikimedia commons” to your search term will return a selection of images that are free to use provided you credit the photographer.
  • Paintings, sketches and engravings of a former church may also be located in this way, and while researching you might find other interesting information. Some of my ancestors were amongst the early dissenting worshippers at the Unitarian Mill Hill Chapel in Leeds. The present chapel was rebuilt around 1849, but images of the original chapel are to be found online. While following a link for one of these images I found [this article] and learned that some of the pillars of the original chapel were removed to a park in north Leeds. I will now have to try to work a visit to that park into a future ancestral tourism trip!

The churchyard

Strictly speaking, the cemetery alongside or adjacent to the church is referred to as the ‘churchyard’, ‘graveyard’ or ‘burial ground’.  Before around the mid-1800s, most burials – and not just burials of Anglicans – took place in the graveyard of the parish church. Although other denominations kept their own records of deaths/burials, the official burial had to be conducted by an Anglican clergyman in accordance with the Church of England prayer book service. You will therefore find burials of ancestors of different faiths in the Church of England parish registers – and you may also find additional records in the registers of their usual places of worship.

The parish register will give the name of the deceased, date of burial and possibly some additional information, such as date of death; if a child, the father’s name; if a woman, the husband’s name; and possibly the cause of death. What it rarely says is where, exactly, the person is buried and that’s unfortunate because that’s what we need right now. I have seen references on parish registers to ‘in the churchyard’; and my 8x great grandfather’s burial record states that he is buried in the ‘South Ile’ [South Aisle] at Wakefield All Saints. There would once have been an inscribed flagstone, but these have long been replaced and no map survives. When I visited I walked up and down the aisle a few times, certain that he was there somewhere but not knowing exactly where. So to be sure of finding our ancestor’s resting place, what we need is a map.

Extract from burial register, 1663.  The extract is in seventeenth century handwriting and reads 'South Ile Will[ia]m Clareburne de Westgate buried eodem die'
Will[ia]m Clareburne burial 6 Jul 1663, Wakefield All Saints.
Original data: West Yorkshire Archive Service; Reference: WDP3/1/3

Before you go … and this could take some time!

Find out if a map of the church and churchyard burials exists, and if so, where. Many thanks to friends/ colleagues at the South Central branch of AGRA for help with compiling this list:

  • An original map could be held at the church or at the local County Record Office
  • If at the Record Office, it is likely to be found under ‘Miscellaneous’ records for that particular parish.
  • If an official original record doesn’t exist, there is the possibility that volunteers may have compiled something
  • Some County Record Offices have maps compiled by their volunteers.
  • A map may have been drawn up by ‘Friends of’ a particular graveyard.
  • Often, the local Family History Society may have mapped a graveyard. You may need to be a paid member of the Society to access the information on their website; or you may find a map inside the church itself – it’s worth checking this before you visit.
  • There is the possibility that a map may be incomplete
  • An original map/record may be only partially complete.
  • For maps created by volunteers, unless they were working with an official/ original list of plots and names, there is the possibility that they may only be able to include occupants of plots as seen on headstones, and that remains in unmarked plots may not be included.
  • Even if the precise location of your ancestor’s grave is not known…
  • based on parish registers, time periods, and denomination, a church official may be able to tell you in which section of the graveyard your ancestor was buried.
  • Check if anyone in your family has a photograph of the headstone – making it easier to identify when you’re walking around the churchyard. Even a photograph of the unmarked grave may have clearly identifiable gravestones close by, thereby enabling you to work out the precise location of that unmarked grave.
  • You may find information online at FindAGrave. Although FindAGrave does not have maps, it gives precise plot information. My experience is that they tend to have more records from municipal cemeteries and that parish graveyards are perhaps at this stage an ongoing project.

In the future, it may become easier! The Church of England has created a digital map and database of all burial grounds in England. This does not include specific burial plots. However, the National Burial Grounds Survey (which I wrote about HERE) is under way and will eventually build into a detailed map and record of all burial plots for all Church of England dioceses signing up to the scheme. You’ll find a map of progress HERE and more information elsewhere on that website.

If you can’t get there

You may still be able to get plot information via one of the above resources, and possibly a photo of the gravestone. A general photo of the churchyard may be available online.

*****

I hope this has given you some ideas for visiting ancestral churches and churchyards – or indeed an ‘Ancestral Staycation’. My next post will look at visiting public and municipal cemeteries.

Meeting the people of Shackleton’s Fold

In Leeds last month, I spent two days in the Local History department of the wonderful Leeds Central Library. I had a big task to complete, started last year, that will help me progress my Shackleton’s Fold One-Place-Study.

Comprising only nineteen properties, Shackleton’s Fold existed for less than a hundred years. It was built around the mid-1840s, precise year not yet known; and from 1895 until demolition circa 1938, was populated by quite a lot of my family members.

There are various strands to this One-Place-Study. First, the properties themselves – poor quality Back-to-Backs, or rather ‘Blind Backs’, since Shackleton’s Fold comprised just two rows of houses, each with the door and windows only on the front. The back of the house, instead of joining onto another identical property with the windows and doors on the other side, was simply a solid wall. No windows, no doors, and no other house. My study will include contextual information about Back-to-Backs, the industrial era working class housing for which Leeds is famous. Next, there are of course the people who lived there: the family members who lived in each of the houses during the time they stood. I’m interested in their stories, as well as what their lives reveal more generally about the lot of the labouring classes in this part of Leeds, during the second half of the nineteenth and first half of the twentieth centuries.

Before I can delve into their stories I need to find out who they are, and that’s what I was doing in the library: compiling a list of everyone on the Electoral Registers and Ward Lists. The objective was to use these to fill the gaps between the decennial censuses. This would enable a fine-tuning of the periods of residence for each household. If a named head of household was present for the 1861 and 1871 censuses but not the 1881, the registers could allow me to pinpoint the exact year they moved out.

Cataloguing the voters of just nineteen houses for around ninety-five years didn’t seem like such a big task, particularly since at the beginning of the period none of the residents had the vote. However, it has taken three full library days for me to do it – and even now I’ll need to return to check a few omissions and discrepancies.

A scene from a library. A red book with the title 'Leeds Register of Electors, West Division, 1896' and showing the catalogue number, is being held upright.  On the desk is a handwritten notebook with lists of dates, and a laptop.  Other desks and library users are visible beyond

Throughout the nineteenth century the population of the Borough of Leeds grew rapidly. In 1861 it was 311,197, rising to 503,493 in 1891 and by 1931 – the last Census for which Shackleton’s Fold was inhabited – the population stood at 646,119. This meant that the arrangement of the registers had to change. The sheer numbers of voters in these various registers meant they had to be divided into manageable chunks. Navigating these was a huge task. For example, a volume might bear the title ‘Borough of Leeds Ward Lists 1881 Part 2’, but with no indication as to which parts of Leeds were in Part 1, Part 2, etc; and this meant each ‘Part’ had to be browsed until the area needed was located. There was no guarantee that the following year would be similarly arranged, so the whole process had to be repeated.

Header page for electoral register, bearing the title 'Borough of Leeds Polling District Number 31, Township of Wortley, Number 3 Division'.  A note below indicates that the list that follows is of people entitled to vote in any Parliamentary election throughout 1870

If you’ve worked with Electoral Registers you’ll know that they are further divided into specific polling districts. The only way to work out which one you need is to look at the most likely ones until you find streets with names you recognise as local to your place of interest. Once you’ve done that you might think you’ve cracked it, and you’ll be able to whizz through the rest in no time. However, these polling districts also change. For example, in 1870, Shackleton’s Fold was in Polling District No. 31. In 1894 it was in West Division Polling District No. 28; changed to District No. 32 by 1899; then District 33, later to 39 and so on.

Front page of The Ward List for the Holbeck Ward, Township of Wortley, Number 1 Division, for the year 1876-77.  The beginning of a list of people is visible below the header

It gets worse! Electoral Registers list only those people entitled to vote in Parliamentary elections; and part of the appeal of a One-Place-Study for Shackleton’s Fold is that it existed throughout a period of great social change, including the move towards universal adult suffrage. During this time, some people were entitled to vote in Municipal but not Parliamentary Elections, and it’s interesting to chart the changes and know that behind each gain there was an important piece of legislation granting the vote to another group of people. This will definitely be covered in my One-Place-Study. However, since those entitled to vote only in Municipal elections could not be included in the Electoral Registers, there had to be another series of registers to list them. Therefore, alongside the Electoral Registers, there are also Ward Rolls, sometimes called Burgage Lists. Here, alongside the men included on the Electoral Registers, we find women and other men whose situation entitled them only to this local level of voting. Consequently there are (at least) two volumes of voters for every year. And guess what… the Polling Districts in the Ward Rolls have different names to those in the Electoral Registers! Shackleton’s Fold starts out in 1860 in ‘Holbeck Ward, Township of Wortley’. By 1874 it is the ‘Holbeck Ward Township of Wortley No. 3 Division’, and a couple of years later it’s No. 1 Division. By 1881 we have ‘Polling District No. 23 New Wortley Ward, Township of Wortley’, then ‘New Wortley Ward Polling District No 28’, and so on. By the 1920s even the township changes, to ‘Armley & Bramley’ and briefly to ‘Polling District MM Township of Leeds’.

As if that wasn’t difficult enough, it wasn’t until 1880 that voters were arranged by address. From this point forward, voters in Shackleton’s Fold are listed together, from number 1 to number 19. Before that year, locating each person involved line by line examination of every entry in the appropriate Polling District – once that had been found – and looking for the magic words ‘Shackleton’s Fold’, then making a note of the name of the person shown. Numbers of individual properties are not given, and since people often tended to move from house to house as their needs changed, there is no way of knowing for sure where each person resided other than at the decennial Census check-ins. Certainly from 1880 onwards the process was quicker, allowing for the speedy capturing of names and addresses with photographs of the relevant pages… at least, provided the Polling District hadn’t been renamed.

Top of page in Burgess List indicating that the named people who would follow were entitled to be enrolled as Burgesses, but not to be Registered as Parliamentary Electors

That said, for quite a few of the years, even after 1880, the women are listed in a separate part of the book, at the end of the entries for that polling district. Special mention must be made of the ‘Borough of Leeds Ward Lists 1872 Part 4’ in which, possibly because of a misunderstanding on the part of whoever compiled it into the one bound volume, locating the information involved examining every line on all 190 pages.

Extract from Burgess List showing the women who were entitled to vote in local elections.  These women were separated out from the male householders who, since 1867, had the right to vote also in Parliamentary elections
Women voters only. The men, who were now entitled to vote in Parliamentary as well as Municipal elections, were listed in the main part of the Ward Roll.

If you’ve ever worked with Electoral Registers, I’m sure some of the above will be familiar; but I suspect not so many of you will have been tracing the families of an entire street throughout a ninety-five year period! My advice to anyone planning on using Electoral Registers and Ward Rolls is: to allow far more time than you expect you’ll need; to understand the difference between the two, and their layout; and to make notes of the different Polling District names for each as you progress. This was a lesson hard learned for me, and explains why I now have a list of queries, and even a few volumes I now realise I missed.

That said, doing this is an essential foundation for everything that will follow. In addition to the decennial censuses from 1851 to 1921, the Electoral Registers and the Ward Rolls, I have information from The Borough of Leeds Poll Book. This was the first general election to be held after the passage of the Reform Act 1867, which enfranchised many male householders. Poll Books differed from Electoral Registers in that whereas the latter list who is entitled to vote, the former list not only who did actually vote, but also for whom they voted. It would not be until 1872 that the Secret Ballot was introduced, and so for many of our ancestors this is a once-only insight into their political affiliations. Other useful name-rich listings may include Directories and even addresses included on baptism and marriage registers. Luckily for me, for much of this period, all Church of England registers for Leeds are available on Ancestry.co.uk. – but not Roman Catholic or most Nonconformist registers.

These lists of people will form the basis of a database of every household, arranged alphabetically by surname. What I had really intended was simply to use these voter lists for fine-tuning periods of residence. I had anticipated that the real sources of information about the families would be the censuses. However, some residents lived in Shackleton’s Fold for only a very short period of time; and since all I have is the name of the head of household, there is no way of finding out more about them. The identity of a Thomas Brown, for example, who is listed on the Electoral Roll of 1871 and nowhere else – not even on the Census of that same year – will forever be unknown. However, Isaac Lord, also resident just briefly in 1870, turns out to have a sufficiently uncommon name for me to be able to track him down. Similarly, the juxtaposition of the head of household with his wife’s name on the Ward Lists may be sufficient to track a couple down via a marriage record.

My brain hadn’t flagged up that the lists themselves would also, with very little additional research required, witness the expansion of suffrage. It will be interesting to compare each increase of names with the relevant legislation. The lists even chart the final years of Shackleton’s Fold, helping me to narrow down the likely year of demolition. In 1938 only one resident remained, and by the following year he, too, was gone. Soon, Shackleton’s Fold would be no more.

If you want to follow progress on this One-Place-Study, you’ll find all blog posts and other information [here].

Happy Christmas

Set of 7 Russian Matroyshka dolls, also known as nesting dolls.  The dolls are shown here not nesting, but displayed amongst Christmas lights.

I had intended to do a proper post earlier this month, but typing and spending time at the computer is still difficult for me as my wrist and hand heal following a break at the end of September. Everything’s going well and mobility is returning; it’s just taking a lot longer than I had assumed it would – and involving a lot more broken nights and tired days.

So the planned post can wait, but I just wanted to drop in to wish you all a happy festive period.

I bought these Matryoshka dolls 37 years ago when I went to Moscow. They spend most of the year nested, one inside the other, but I always get them all out at Christmas and put them on display alongside a less traditional set of nesting Santas.

Some people call these Babushka dolls, the word meaning ‘grandmother’ or sometimes ‘old woman’ in Russian. I like to think of this set as representing me and my direct maternal line. If I’m the smallest one, the next one up is my mother, then my grandmother. After that comes my great grandmother, Jane; my 2G grandmother Margaret and my 3G grandmother Mary. The last two were born in Ireland. One record for Margaret indicates her place of birth was Derry (Londonderry) OR Newry, both in what is now Northern Ireland, but that was circa 1823 and, Irish records being what they are, I’ve never been able to place her birth, nor locate a marriage for her mother Mary and father Robert. This also means that the largest of these seven Matroyshka dolls is unknown to me, and I would dearly love to know her name – the name of my 4x great grandmother. Finding out more about this line is something that is permanently on my To Do List, but it would involve getting to know a whole new set of unfamiliar records, and there are always other research projects to be getting on with.

My children would laugh if they saw this post. They say I can turn a discussion on any subject into genealogy – I’m sure this is something a lot of you are skilled in too. 😀

And so all that remains is to set aside the genealogy, and to wish those of you who celebrate a very Merry Christmas and a Happy, Healthy and Successful New Year. I hope to be able to write my planned post in January.

Remembering the Battle of Holbeck Moor

One of my motivations as a genealogist and family historian is to uncover – and pass on – stories from the past. A recent unexpected turn of events brought about a merging of a story from 1936 with my own life in 2024. In this post I’m going to tell you about both of these stories.

On 27th September 1936, Oswald Mosley, leader of the British Union of Fascists, organised a rally in Leeds. Accompanied by 1000 Blackshirts, his twin aims were to intimidate the Jewish communities based in Leylands, an area just to the north-east of Leeds city centre; and to drum up support for fascism amongst the working classes. The first of these aims was thwarted when the Leeds Watch Committee forbade any march through the Leylands area. However, the wider demonstration was allowed to go ahead. The Blackshirts’ march commenced right in the heart of Leeds. They then crossed the river into Hunslet, through to Beeston Hill – where they were joined by Mosley – and on to Holbeck Moor. Here, the plan was, Mosley would deliver a rousing speech.

The choice of Holbeck Moor was no accident. Holbeck and the adjacent areas of Hunslet and New Wortley were industrial areas with smoke-belching factories and railways lines interspersed with row upon row of poor quality back-to-back housing. This was the tail end of the Depression, and Mosley believed he would be able to drum up support for fascist politics. However, upon learning of the intended march, anti-fascist political activists spread the word. The Jews in Leylands were warned, and the presence of whoever was able, was requested at Holbeck Moor. When Mosley and his Blackshirts arrived, 30,000 Leeds residents were waiting for them.

Newspaper cutting with heading 'Injuries & Arrests at Fascist Meeting'. There is a photo of Oswald Mosley in uniform surrounded by men, and a police officer behind him. Beneath the image are the words 'Sir Oswald  Mosley at the demonstration on Holbeck Moor yesterday - Sir Oswald Mosley Among the Hurt in Leeds'.
From the article in The Leeds Mercury on Monday 28 September 1936. Source: FindMyPast.co.uk

When my Mum was in her eighties she told me about the day she saw Oswald Mosley march onto Holbeck Moor.  She lived half a mile from there, and in fact hers was just the kind of family Mosley was targetting, since her father had been unable to find regular work for several years. However, he understood very well that his lack of employment had nothing to do with Jewish people living in other parts of Leeds. Remembering clearly the events of that day, my Mum described the hate written all over the faces of the young Blackshirts. Mosley, she said, hadn’t reckoned on ‘the men of Leeds’, who were waiting on Holbeck Moor, armed with stones and determined to prevent him from speaking.  

It was some years after my Mum’s death that I came across an online article entitled ‘The Battle of Holbeck Moor’. At the time I was researching the events of the Civil War in Leeds, and thought this might have been one of the local battles associated with that; but as I read, I realised it was the event my mother had attended. This, in fact, gave me a date, and I was able to work out that she had been just twelve years old at the time… I wondered if her parents had known she was there! 

The article gave me more details about the event. Perhaps my Mum had told me about some of them, and perhaps I had forgotten. I learned that Mosley used a van as a makeshift stage, but that every time he tried to speak, 30,000 voices roared out ‘The Red Flag’ to drown him out. Clearly, as a young girl standing at the back of the crowd my Mum wasn’t an active participant in the event. For her, its importance was the impact it had on her developing understanding of the reality of fascism – something with which, unfortunately, everyone in attendance would have nine more years to become better acquainted. Certainly, it was clear that, nearly 70 years later, she remained proud of the fact that Leeds had defeated Oswald Mosley.  I left a comment at the end of the article, saying my mother had been there, and that her recollection of the event many years later tallied with the account. Then I added the info to my timeline about my Mum’s life and thought no more about it.

In August this year I received an email inviting me to be part of a special reception at the unveiling of a Leeds Civic Trust Blue Plaque commemorating the Battle of Holbeck Moor. I had been traced from that comment written some years earlier, and would be representing my mother. I was so happy to be invited to do this, and made preparations for the trip. I would be accompanied by my nephew and my second cousin and his wife. I was asked to write something about my mother for the display, to be kept permanently at the West Yorkshire Archives, and to provide some photos. Having done all that, I was then asked if I would be prepared to make a short speech on the day.

The rather surreal nature of this turn of events was not lost on me: the idea that one day in September 1936 my mother, then aged twelve, witnessed ‘the men of Leeds’ turning back the leader of the British Union of Fascists, and that 88 years later, her own daughter would be standing on the same spot talking about her was quite overwhelming. My Mum was never a political person but she always had a strong sense of right and wrong, and she knew that hatred and scapegoating had no place in politics. In life she had rarely done anything to attract attention, but now I wanted her story to be known.

I was due to travel up to Leeds on Saturday 28th September, ready for the ceremony the following day. Instead, on Friday evening, while putting the finishing touches to my preparations, I fell and broke my wrist.

Four people holding a Blue Plaque commemorating the Battle of Holbeck Moor.
Leeds MPs Fabian Hamilton, Richard Burgon and Hilary Benn, with Sam Kirk from Stand Up To Racism. Photo: P Heppenstall

The event on Sunday 29th September was well-attended. The unveiling was done by three Leeds Members of Parliament. It all went well, but I was not there. I was mostly lying on the sofa, asleep. Even now, I’m typing this with one hand.

Group of people. One of the people is holding a Blue Plaque commemorating The Battle of Holbeck Moor.  Others are holding photographs of family members.
Representatives of families of some of those who were present at the Battle of Holbeck Moor on 27th September 1936. Photo: C & J Battensby

Several descendants of those present on the day had been traced, and were photographed together with photos of their family members. One of those represented had not attended the demonstration at Holbeck Moor, but was a Jewish pharmacist who gave First Aid to Blackshirts who had been injured by the stones. My nephew represented my Mum, his Grandma; and my speech was wonderfully delivered with his own twist by my second cousin. The two of them, plus my cousin’s wife, sent lots of photos and videos, and it almost felt like I was there. I was gutted to miss out on a Battle of Holbeck Moor cupcake!

A cupcake featuring a 'blue plaque' decoration, including the words: 'The Battle of Holbeck Moor - 27 September 1936 - They Shall Not Pass'
Blue Plaque cupcakes were given out after the ceremony! Photo: C & J Battensby

Of course I was very disappointed to miss the event, but the important thing is that on that day my Mum’s voice, representing 30,000 others, was heard. She would be very surprised to know she also got a mention in the local press, on the BBC and in a number of national papers, including The Guardian.

The Battle of Holbeck Moor was not the only clash between Mosley and anti-fascist demonstrators. Exactly one week later, the far better known Battle of Cable Street in London’s East End took place. By coincidence, one of those anti-fascist demonstrators was a young man who, several decades later, would become my father-in-law.

All of this came about because several people, including myself, left comments online in response to articles about the events at Holbeck Moor of 27th September 1936. As a result, this story is now owned by more family members who previously were not aware of their own family connection. More than that, the inclusion of the stories of those who attended brings a personal dimension to the history. And surely, breathing life into those memories of ordinary people is what researching family history is all about.

Leave comments! Tell the stories! You never know where it might lead.

Starbotton

At the end of June/ beginning of July I spent a week in the Yorkshire Dales. We were based in Starbotton in Upper Wharfedale, which is the location of one of my two One-Place Studies. Although this was a holiday, not a research trip, we managed to fit in several places of importance in my family history, and I went off most early evenings for a walk around Starbotton.

I meant to write something about how it felt to be in this village I’ve spent so many hours thinking about, and how just being there moved on my understanding of the place. Then, one evening as I wandered around, I realised that sense of connection and immediacy would best be communicated through a short video.

What started out as one woman with very little by way of plan standing on a hill above a village and talking into a phone while recording a static scene… eventually turned into downloading video editing software, inserting additional images, creating intro and outro pages and finally launching a YouTube channel. The sound is a bit dodgy in places – it was windy and my phone doesn’t have one of those big fluffy microphone covers! – so I had to learn how to do subtitles too. I also made the mistake of recording in profile, but hopefully the extra images will compensate for that.

You don’t need a YouTube account to watch, but if you do, please give me a ‘Like’. I enjoyed the process very much and suspect there will be another video, so if you’re feeling kind and you have a YouTube account you might also like to ‘Subscribe’ to my channel – it’s all free of charge of course; it just means I’ll show up in your list if I publish something else.

Any constructive feedback would be much appreciated, particularly if you know about bitspeeds, frames per second and the like. Ideally, I need someone to tell me what settings I need to use for my exact phone model when I ‘produce’ the final version as an MP4. But that aside, here it is. I’m pleased with it, and hope you like it too. 🙂

Using wills to identify community networks

Diagram showing the networks provided by the Wills of three men in a small village in Wharfedale between 1693/94 and 1712/13, plus the Probate Register entry of another man.  The network seen through these documents includes a total of 36 people.

The ‘All About That Place’ event, as well as a short course I was doing at the same time: Progressing Your Local History Research (346) through Pharos Tutors, inspired me to start a couple of ‘One Place Studies’, and to register them with the Society for One Place Studies.

One of my studies, Starbotton in Wharfedale, focuses on the Early Modern period – roughly 1500-1750, although depending on the records available, it may end up homing in on just part of that period. Starbotton is part of the parish of Kettlewell and importantly, no parish registers for the period before 1698/ 1700 have survived. Although there are some Bishop’s Transcripts for the seventeenth century, survival of these records too is limited and patchy. This means I have no continuous register of any kind to use as a foundation for rebuilding the community of people in Starbotton before the last fifty years of my period of interest. The primary challenge will be to locate as many alternative sources as possible and then find ways to make them work together.

Prior to the Local History course my research in Starbotton had focused on my Simondson family. I already had Wills for three of the Simondson men who died between 1693/4 and 1712/13, plus the Probate register entry only for another, John, who died in 1705 and named Anthony as his executor. Christopher’s was a holographic Will, meaning a group of trusted family and friends gathered at his deathbed, helped him to organise his thoughts, and wrote up the document after his death, all of them signing to verify that the contents were the wishes of the deceased. The Wills of Lister and Christopher are accompanied by Inventories, which are also signed by everyone involved in that process.

Something I had previously noticed – both here and in another small village where I’ve accessed quite a few Wills – was the sense of community evoked through all the people involved in the Probate process – witnesses, executors, the men doing the inventory, bondsmen and so on – and that’s in addition to the named beneficiaries. They all pulled together to help each other at this time of need, and to ensure the wives and children were properly cared for.

With this in mind I decided to ‘map’ the network created by the three Simondson Wills, plus John’s Probate Register entry. Every fact, and every single person shown on the network chart at the top of this post came from a close reading of these Probate documents. I do have some additional information about some of the people, gained from other records. For example, it is Thomas Simondson who is my direct ancestor, and I have more information about him and his family, but his Will does not seem to have survived. I was surprised to find that, excluding beneficiaries, there were twenty people involved in this network-mapping process: nineteen men and one woman. Adding in the named beneficiaries brings the total to thirty-seven: eleven women/ girls and six men/ boys are named beneficiaries. This younger generation will make my job a bit easier since most of them undergo some religious rite or other that brings them into the period of the surviving parish registers.

Homing in on householders though – which in itself would be a great step forward – these Wills have given me a LOT of information about the village community. I do recognise most of the surnames and in some cases the first names too. Comparison with a transcript of the 1672 Lady Day Hearth Tax return, and also with a list of churchwardens from all available Bishop’s Transcripts indicates that most are from the parish. However, the parish includes Kettlewell as well as Starbotton, so there is still work to do in trying to separate out the two.

A person’s ‘community’ is not necessarily restricted to his or her village. In addition to the village community there will be wider networks too, based on friendships, marriages, worship (e.g. Nonconformists in rural locations would have a geographically wider network), business, market days, and so on. Based just on my Simondson family, I know that they had family connections throughout Wharfedale and into what is now Lancashire too. This also seems to me to be part of the history of a Place: where were the wider networks and connections? What were the reasons for this? And was it different for people from different social levels?

I’ve now located about ten more Wills for the same period for other testators living in Starbotton and will gradually collect and transcribe these, looking for overlaps, and comparing the findings to other records known to be for residents of Starbotton.