Ancestral Tourism 2: Public & Municipal Cemeteries

Posted on 2nd Sep 2025 by English Ancestors

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.

*****

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. 🙂

Meeting the people of Shackleton’s Fold

Posted on 20th Jun 2025 by English Ancestors

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].

Monarchs and Jacobites Part 2

Posted on 31st May 2025 by English Ancestors

In my last post I explained how a desire to understand more about the Jacobites led to the compilation of an overview of all English/ British monarchs from Henry VII to George I. I wanted to understand:

The descent of the throne: how each monarch relates to his or her predecessors and where unclear, why they were installed.
The role of religion in decisions about the Crown, as well as attitudes towards Roman Catholics, Puritans and Nonconformists during the reign of each monarch.
What connection this had with the Jacobites.
And finally – although to be honest this was something that piqued my interest during the research rather than something I set out to do – how this connects with certain documentation we might come across as family historians.

This is the second part of my exploration. The first post covered Henry VII to Charles I. This post starts with the Interregnum followed by the Restoration of Charles II, and ends with George I. It is of course a quick overview focusing just on the above, not a learned analysis!

Interregnum, or Commonwealth Period
Part 1 of this overview ended with Charles I, who was beheaded in 1649, the act which started the Interregnum. Reading about Charles, we understand there were a number of tensions leading to the civil war and ultimately the Interregnum. One of these was Charles’s religious position. The Church of England was sandwiched between the high ceremony of the Roman Catholic church and the Puritans, who wanted a simpler form of worship. Charles, however, favoured a ‘high church’ within the Church of England. His marriage, too, to the Catholic Henrietta Maria, raised concerns among Protestants. On top of this, Charles’s belief in the Divine Right of Kings exaccerbated both religious and political tensions. Parliamentarians, many of whom were also religious reformers, were angered by Charles’s favoritism towards Catholics. They sought to limit his power and influence, not only on religious matters but also more broadly, since Charles often clashed with, overruled and even dissolved his Parliament for an eleven-year period.

In light of all this, following the execution of Charles I, England was declared a Republic. Initially Member of Parliament for Huntingdon, Oliver Cromwell rose to prominence as leader of the Parliamentarians and ultimately ruled as Lord Protector. The Commonwealth period was a time of great religious and social change. Cromwell wanted to establish a more just and equitable society. Yet he was a devout Puritan who believed this would be achieved through spiritual and moral reform. During this period the Church of England was disestablished,the House of Lords abolished, and Puritanism gained prominence. Many restrictive laws were passed to regulate moral behaviour. Theatres were closed down, strict observance of the Sabbath was required, and celebrations of Easter and Christmas were banned.

Charles II, reigned 1660-1685
After the execution of Charles I in 1649, the Scots viewed his son, also Charles, as his rightful heir. Wishing to maintain a monarchy in Scotland and England, they invited him to Scotland. The young Charles had been sent to safety in France – not only the homeland of his mother, but also the realm of his uncle, Louis XIII. In 1643 the Scottish Covenanters had entered into an alliance with the English Parliamentarians, including a pledge to work towards the establishment of Presbyterianism in England. Now the Scots, particularly the Covenanters, viewed Charles II as a potential leader who could uphold Presbyterianism in the three kingdoms (Scotland, Ireland, England). In accordance with their wishes he signed the National Covenant, affirming Presbyterianism as the official religion in Scotland. On 1 January 1651 Charles II was crowned by the Scots at Scone – the last coronation to take place in this historic Scottish coronation site. However, a few months later, the decisive defeat of the Scottish army broke the power of the Presbyterians in England and Scotland, ending the relevance of the Solemn League and Covenant. Once more, Charles was granted sanctuary in France, and the English government announced that henceforth, England and Scotland were to be one Commonwealth.

After Oliver Cromwell’s death in 1658, there was a desire to restore the monarchy. The first election returned a government that was fairly evenly divided on political grounds between Royalists and Parliamentarians, and on religious grounds between Anglicans and Presbyterians. In 1660, after signing the Declaration of Breda, Charles was invited to London and restored to the throne as Charles II. Through the Declaration, Charles promised those who recognised himself as monarch a general pardon for crimes committed during the Civil War and the Interregnum. Most of Cromwell’s supporters were granted amnesty, but fifty were not. Nine were executed, the others given life imprisonment or excluded from office for life. Cromwell’s body was posthumously decapitated. Charles also promised religious toleration, with liberty of conscience. Finally, he promised to rule in cooperation with Parliament.

Image: King Charles II

by John Michael Wright, c. 1660–1665 National Portrait Gallery, London

Source: Wikipedia, Public Domain

Portrait of King Charles II by John Michael Wright. The King is seated and holds the Sovereign's Orb. He is dressed in fine robes of red, white and blue with jewels.

However, after elections the following year, a new overwhelmingly Royalist and Anglican Parliament was sworn in, bringing with it a series of limits to the religious toleration with which more advanced genealogists will be familiar. These included a requirement for municipal officeholders to swear allegiance, the introduction of the Book of Common Prayer, the Conventicle Act of 1664, which forbade religious gatherings of more than five people outside the Church of England, and a prohibition for clergymen who had been expelled from their parishes for church services not conforming to the newly enforced Anglican requirements from coming within five miles of that parish. As Puritanism lost its momentum, theatres reopened and as a release from the restrictions of the Commonwealth period, bawdy ‘Restoration comedy’ became a recognisable genre. For the first time, female actors were required to play female roles. The Restoration was therefore a time of great social change.

Charles II, however, had family arrangements that placed him very much at conflict with limits on religious tolerance. On 21st May 1662 he married Catherine of Braganza, the Roman Catholic daughter of King John IV of Portugal. The marriage was celebrated in two ceremonies at Portsmouth – a Catholic one, conducted in secret, followed by a public Church of England service. It’s worth remembering here that Charles II’s mother, Henrietta Maria, was also Roman Catholic, that Charles had spent most of his life in exile in France, and that Louis XIV of France was his first cousin. In 1670, by treaty agreed between the two cousins (The Treaty of Dover/ Secret Treaty of Dover), Charles committed, amongst other things, to convert to Catholicism at some point in the future. In return, he would receive a secret pension from Louis that he hoped would give him some freedom from Parliamentary scrutiny of his finances. He would also receive a financial bonus from Louis plus the loan of French troops to suppress any opposition when his conversion was made public. The Treaty remained a secret, and Charles never did convert. However, against the wishes of Parliament, he did issue the Royal Declaration of Indulgence of 1672, by which he attempted to suspend laws that punished recusants from the Church of England, thereby extending religious liberty both to Protestant nonconformists and to Roman Catholics. The following year he was compelled by Parliament to withdraw the Declaration.

Charles died in 1685. Having no legitimate children, he was succeeded by his brother.

James II of England/ VII of Scotland, reigned 1685-1688
Like his older brother Charles II, James had lived in exile in France during the Commonweath period, and served in the armies of Louis XIV until the Restoration in 1660. However, in 1669 James had converted to Roman Catholicism. There had therefore been concern at the prospect of his acceeding to the throne, but on the whole a hereditary succession was viewed as preferable to the possibility of a further republican commonwealth. It was, in any case, considered that the reign of James II / VII would be merely a temporary Catholic interlude. By his first marriage to Anne Hyde, James had one son who died, and two daughters. At the insistence of their uncle Charles II the daughters, Mary and Ann, were raised in the Church of England.

In 1687 James II/ VII issued the Declaration of Indulgence. As with the 1672 Declaration issued by his brother, this was an attempt to promote religious tolerance by suspending penal laws enforcing conformity to the Church of England, allowing people to worship freely in their homes or chapels, and ending the requirement for oaths of allegiance for government office. However, in a period when fear of Catholicism was widespread, he had already made enemies of Anglican bishops as well as Lords and Members of Parliament, on one occasion in 1685 proroguing Parliament and ruling without it. He then continued to promote the Roman Catholic cause, dismissing judges and others who refused to support the withdrawal of laws penalising religious dissidents and preventing the appointment of Catholics to important posts in academic, military and political positions. By 1688 most of James’s subjects had been alienated.

Portrait of King James II of England and VII of Scotland. The King is standing and wearing armour on his upper body, along with a gold sash. His left arm rests on a scarlet-feather trimmed helmet. He is wearing the long curled wig of the period.

Image: King James II and VII

Artist unknown.

Source: National Portrait Gallery, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

In April 1688 James II/ VII reissued the Declaration of Indulgence. Two months later his second wife, Mary of Modena, gave birth to a son and heir: James Francis Edward. The baby was baptised according to the rites of the Roman Catholic church. It was a final straw: fearful of a Roman Catholic dynasty in the making, on 30 June 1688 a group of Protestant nobles invited William of Orange to come to England with an army. When William arrived on 5th November 1688, many army officers defected, joining him against the king. The following month James II/ VII fled with his wife and baby son to France, where he was received by his cousin Louis XIV. This overthrowing of James II/ VII is what is referred to as The Glorious Revolution, 1688-89.

The descent of the throne is about to get very complicated!

William III (reigned 1689-1702) and Mary II (reigned 1689-1694)
We have already met William and Mary. Mary is the oldest daughter of James II and VII, by his first wife Anne Hyde. It was mentioned above that at the insistence of their uncle, Charles II, Mary and her younger sister Ann were raised in the Church of England. Charles also arranged for Mary to marry the Protestant Prince William of Orange – that same William who arrived in 1688 by invitation of the Protestant nobles to overthrow the King – that King being his father-in-law.

In fact not only Mary but also William of Orange had a claim to the British throne. Both were grandchildren of Charles I. William was descended from Charles I through his mother, Princess Mary, who was the eldest daughter of King Charles. The soon-to-be queen Mary, as we have seen, was descended from Charles I via his second son James II and VII.

Image: William III and Mary II

Painting: Sir James Thornhill; Photo: James Brittain derivative work: Surtsicna (cropped)

Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Portrait of William III and Mary II. The couple are seated. Both wear a crown and both have a Royal Sceptre. The Sovereign's Orb is set between them. William is wearing armour on his upper body and the long vurled wig of the period. Both wear fur-trimmed robes.

In 1689, it was declared by Parliament that James had abdicated by deserting his kingdom. William and Mary were offered the throne as joint monarchs but were required to accept a Declaration of Rights, later enshrined in the Bill of Rights of 1689. The Statute remains a cornerstone of English constitutional law, setting out basic civil rights, resetting the relationship between monarch and Parliament, providing guarantees against the abuses of power that had become commonplace, and changing the succession to the English Crown. James II / VII and his heirs being now excluded from the throne, this exclusion was extended to apply to all Roman Catholics. The Toleration Act of the same year allowed for freedom of worship for dissenting Protestants, but not to Roman Catholics or Jews. ‘Tolerance’ only went so far. Nonconformists were required to swear oaths of Allegiance and Supremacy, they continued to be excluded from holding political offices and positions at universities, but they could meet to worship as they wished, provided they did so in registered meeting houses and with licensed dissenting preachers. However, it was better than the previous position and was considered a reward for Protestant dissenters who did not support James II / VII.

Mary reigned until her death in 1694; William continued until his death in 1702.

Anne, reigned 1702-1714
Leaving no children, William and Mary were succeeded by Mary’s sister Anne, who reigned until her death in 1714. When she, too, died childless (her only surviving son having predeceased her), the line passed to Sophia, Electress of Hanover, who was the granddaughter of James I/ VI via her mother Elizabeth, and was the nearest Protestant relative.

Portrait of Queen Anne by unknown artist of the seventeenth century. The Queen is seated and is wearing a fine robe of gold and cobalt blue with fur trimming. She is holding the Sovereign's Orb.

Image: Queen Anne

Artist unknown, 17th century

Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

George I, reigned 1714-1727
In fact Sophia had died two months before Queen Anne, meaning the line passed to her son, George Ludwig. Although there were around fifty Roman Catholics who would have had a stronger claim were it not for the exclusion, George I acceeded to the throne in 1714. The reign of the House of Hanover, which would continue in the United Kingdom until Queen Victoria’s death in 1901, had commenced.

Image: George I

Artist: Godfrey Kneller

Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Pedigree Chart
In the following chart you can see all the monarchs mentioned in the above account, together with the others mentioned as essential to the line of descent. There are also two more people, descended from James II and VII and his second wife Mary of Modena. We will now turn to look at them.

The Jacobites
Were it not for the exclusion of Roman Catholics from the succession to the English Crown, one of the people who would have had a stronger right to the throne than George I was of course the son of the exiled James II / VII. The old king had died in France in 1701; and his son, James Francis Edward Stuart, who had been created Prince of Wales in July 1688, considered himself James III and VIII.

Following the coronation of George I – who spoke very little English and whose loyalties and thoughts were primarily with Hanover – riots and uprisings broke out in various parts of the United Kingdom.

‘Jacobites’ had been active since The Glorious Revolution. They sought to restore the Stuart line to the thrones of England, Scotland, and Ireland, but the reasons for their support were complex and varied. A central tenet of Jacobitism – the political ideology behind the movement – was that kings were appointed by God, and therefore the post-1688 regime was illegitimate. This view was particularly strong amongst the Episcopalians in the Lowlands. There was also opposition to the Act of Union of 1707. Many Jacobites believed the Stuarts would reverse the Union and restore Scottish independence. Akin to this were clan loyalties and traditions, and the enduring sense of marginalisation by the English and British government. Consequently, in Scotland, Jacobitism was strongest in the Western Highlands and in Perthshire and Aberdeenshire. However, given the origins and connections between the Scottish clans and Ireland, there was a Roman Catholic element to the support too, and indeed Jacobitism was also strongly supported in Ireland. There were also pockets of support in Wales and parts of England; and the Stuarts received some backing from France and other countries.

After an unsuccessful invasion in 1715 James – the would-be King James III/ VIII, nick-named ‘The Old Pretender’ – lived in papal territory, and from 1718 until his death in 1766, resided in Rome. Here, he established a court-in-exile, creating Jacobite Peerages and operating an unofficial consulate. In 1719 James married Maria Clementina Sobieska, with whom he had two sons. The second son, Henry Benedict Stuart would become a Cardinal of the Catholic Church. The first, born 31st December 1720, was Charles Edward Stuart. We know him as ‘Bonnie Prince Charlie’. He was also nicknamed ‘The Young Pretender’. It was Bonnie Prince Charlie who led the Jacobite Rising of 1745, culminating in the Battle of Culloden.

Armed with all of the above information, the Scottish history outlined in Reunion will make more sense. You will also be well-prepared should you wish to tackle Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander! However, I hope it will also be of use in understanding the odd document you’ve found in your own family research. For example, I now understand what was behind a document countersigned by my 7x great grandfather at York Castle in 1745 pledging allegiance to the king (George II) against the ‘Rebellion in Favour of a Popish Pretender’.

It has been quite time-consuming to put this together. I had never had a great deal of interest in the Kings and Queens of England/ United Kingdom; my personal interests lie with the ordinary people. However, working on this has given me a great context within which to place all of the changes in attitudes and leniency towards Nonconformists in the 1660s, 1670s and 1680s – and this is a period when a number of my own ancestors were converting to Nonconformist practices. I even looked at a chart of Kings and Queens of England last week and was able to spot immediately that Lady Jane Grey was missing! I hope you will find it interesting and useful too.

Monarchs and Jacobites Part 1

Posted on 23rd Apr 2025 by English Ancestors

In my last post, about Ryan Littrell’s book ‘Reunion’, I pointed out that while reading it, I was aware of the limits of my own knowledge of Scottish history. A few years back I read Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander novel, and now realised these two books cover some important common ground. I knew I would understand both stories better if I learned more about this history.

Key to both was Bonnie Prince Charlie and the Jacobites. While appreciating that Bonnie Prince Charlie was the son of James, and the term “Jacobite” comes from the Latin ‘Jacobus’, meaning James, I didn’t know which particular James this was, nor how he fitted in with the monarchs of Scotland or England. Upon exploring all this I soon found myself back with the English and Scottish monarchs with whom I was familiar, and quickly understood not only who the Jacobites were, but also the importance of religion in this story.

It became clear that to understand the Jacobite cause we need to go back to Henry VIII; and to understand the claim to the English throne of two of the monarchs after Henry VIII, we need to go back to his father, Henry VII.

Although most Brits will have at least a sketchy overview of the monarchs of this period, I suspect many overseas researchers with Scottish, English or Northern Irish ancestry may not. It occurred to me that not only was this essential background to the origins of the Jacobite movement, but also to much legislation and associated documentary requirements that we draw upon in our family history research right up to 1837. Significantly, it is in the early years after Henry VIII’s break with Rome that we have the commencement of our system of parish registers.

For all these reasons, I offer you my summary. In it, you’ll find all English monarchs from Henry VII to George I. Two themes are highlighted:

The descent of the throne. I explain how each monarch relates to his or her predecessors and where unclear, why they were installed. Some of the choices were a bit of a stretch.
The ever-present theme for this entire period of the Church of England versus Roman Catholicism, with a bit of Puritanism and Nonconformity thrown in for good measure.

Although only an overview, this quickly became too long for one blogpost, so I’ve divided it into two. Today’s post covers Henry VII to Charles I, ending with the onset of the Commonwealth Period (1649-1660), the period also known as the Interregnum because for eleven years there was no monarch – they were literally ‘between reigns’. In terms of understanding the Jacobites, which is where this all started, this post serves as essential background to that. The period after the Interregnum, including the Jacobites, will be covered in my next post.

Henry VII, reigned 1485-1509
Henry VII’s claim to the throne was linked, via his mother, to the House of Lancaster. His father, Edmund Tudor, was 1st Earl of Richmond. Henry, then, was the first Tudor monarch: meaning that was the ‘House’, or surname of this particular royal dynasty.

Uniting the rival houses of Lancaster and York through his marriage to Elizabeth of York, it was he who adopted the Tudor Rose as the national flower of England and a symbol of peace following the Wars of The Roses. It combines the white rose for Yorkshire and red rose for Lancashire.

IMAGE: Portrait of Henry VII, painted on 29 October 1505 by order of Herman Rinck, an agent for the Holy Roman Emperor, Maximilian I, Public Domain.

Henry VIII, reigned 1509-1547
The son of Henry VII and Elizabeth of York, every English schoolchild will tell you that it was Henry VIII who brought about the break of England from the Church of Rome.

We even have a mnemonic for remembering the fate of his six wives who, in order, faced the following: ‘Divorced, Beheaded, Died; Divorced, Beheaded, Survived’. In fact, as we shall see, Henry did not actually ‘divorce’ wives 1 and 4; rather the marriages were ‘annulled’; and these annulments changed the course of history.

IMAGE: Portrait of Henry VIII, date unknown. Painted by a Follower of Hans Holbein the Younger. Public Domain.

In 1509, just two months after his father’s death, Henry VIII married Catherine of Aragon, the widow of his older brother who had died shortly after their wedding. Henry and Catherine were crowned the following day. After several still-born and short-lived babies, Catherine gave birth to a daughter, Mary, in 1516.

Although Mary survived, Henry was desperate to have a son. He came to believe that his marriage was blighted on account of him having married his brother’s widow, this being contrary to Leviticus 20:21. (‘If a man marries his brother’s wife, it is an act of impurity; he has dishonored his brother. They will be childless.’) In 1625 he began an affair with Anne Boleyn. He hoped to have his marriage to Catherine annulled on the grounds that the Pope had lacked the authority to give dispensation to it in the first place, but a papal annulment was not to be. Instead, a special court at Dunstable Priory in England in May 1533 would declare the marriage null and void. By this time, Catherine had been banished from court, Henry and Anne Boleyn had married, and their daughter Elizabeth was born later in 1533. However, it was not all sunshine and roses in the royal marriage. By 1536, having failed to give Henry a son, Anne fell out of favour. She was charged with treasonous adultery and incest, and executed. Ten days later, Henry married Jane Seymour. By the Succession to the Crown Act of 1536, Henry’s daughters Mary and Elizabeth were both declared illegitimate. Any children to be born to Jane were to be next in the line of succession.

By this time, relations with Rome had worsened. The 1532 Act in Restraint of Appeals had abolished any right of appeal to Rome. Instead, the King was to be the supreme authority. By the Act of Supremacy of 1534, Henry had been recognised by Parliament as Head of the Church in England. In consequence, Pope Clement VII excommunicated Henry, although this was not formalised until 1538.

In October 1537, Jane Seymour provided Henry with a son and heir: Edward. Jane died twelve days later but Edward survived. Henry would marry three times more. His marriage to Anne of Cleves in January 1540 was annulled shortly afterwards on grounds of non-consummation. His fifth marriage to Catherine Howard ended with a further beheading two years later. Finally, in 1543, Henry married wealthy widow Catherine Parr. None of these marriages produced further children, but Catherine Parr brought about a reconciliation between Henry and his daughters Mary and Catherine. By the Act of Succession of 1543, both were restored to the line of throne after Edward. Henry died four years later, and as the mnemonic reminds us, was survived by Catherine Parr.

Although a contemporary of Martin Luther and certainly aware of his criticisms of the Catholic church, Henry VIII did not support him. Indeed, he had been a devout Catholic and had written a treatise in which he defended the seven sacraments against Luther’s criticisms. In recognition, in 1521 he was given the title ‘Defender of the Faith‘ by Pope Leo X – a title still held by British monarchs. After the break from Rome, there would initially have been little difference in church services and theology, although Henry did later adopt some Protestant reforms. Undoubtedly, though, these were motivated more by political expediency and a desire to increase his personal power than by theological concerns. To this end, Henry is remembered for the Dissolution of the Monasteries, the period between 1536-1540 when he closed and seized the assets of monasteries, priories, convents and friaries. Those who resisted were executed, as were other Catholics and indeed some Protestants who challenged his religious policies.

Edward VI, reigned 1547-1553
Henry VIII was succeeded by Edward, the son born to his third wife, Jane Seymour. Although his older half-sisters, Mary and Elizabeth, had been restored to the succession, Edward took precedence. He was fiercely Protestant, and during his short reign the Church of England moved further away from the practices of the Church of Rome. Edward was particularly anxious that Mary who, as daughter of the Roman Catholic Catherine of Aragon, remained true to her faith, would undo his Protestant reforms. In his hand-written Devise for the Succession, he sought to exclude Mary from the line of succession. Persuaded that he must disinherit both his half-sisters, he named his cousin, Lady Jane Grey, as his heir. Edward VI died from tuberculosis in 1553.

IMAGE: Portrait of Edward VI by William Scrots, circa 1550. Public Domain

Lady Jane Grey, reigned 10-19 July 1553
Although, as great niece of Henry VIII, Lady Jane Grey was a genuine (if unexpected) claimant to the throne, her right to it was disputed. After only nine days she was deposed, to be replaced by Mary, who had her executed in 1554.

IMAGE: Portrait of Lady Jane Grey. Artist Unknown, but it is known as the Duckett Portrait, and is believed to date from 1552. The portrait was owned by Sir Lionel Duckett in 1580. He was married to the first cousin of the wife of the first cousin of Lady Jane Grey. Public Domain.

Mary I, reigned 1553-1558
The firstborn of Henry VIII, by his first wife Catherine of Aragon, Mary was the first Queen of England to reign as monarch in her own right. She was also, from 1556 until her death, Queen Consort of Spain. Mary’s marriage to King Philip of Spain was a very unpopular move; and as Edward VI had feared, she did indeed attempt to restore papal supremacy in England. Abandoning the title for herself of Supreme Head of the Church, she reintroduced Roman Catholic bishops and set about bringing back monastic orders.

As a result of her revival of former heresy laws, around three hundred Protestants were put to the stake in just three years. Such was Mary’s fervour that her opponents labelled her ‘Bloody Mary’. Upon marriage, Mary wished to have children and leave a Roman Catholic heir who would continue her reforms, but she died childless in 1558, leaving the way clear for her half-sister to inherit the throne.

IMAGE: Portrait of Mary I. Artist and date Unknown. Public Domain.

Elizabeth I, reigned 1558-1603
Daughter of Henry VIII by his second wife, Ann Boleyn, Elizabeth, was the last of Henry’s three legitimate children to take the throne. During her forty-five year reign, a secure Church of England was established. Highly educated, intelligent and deeply devoted to the country, she held that ‘there is only one Jesus Christ and all the rest is a dispute over trifles’. She asked for outward uniformity. The Thirty-nine Articles of 1563 established the faith and practice of the Church of England, but were carefully crafted as a compromise between Roman Catholicism and Protestantism.

IMAGE: Portrait of Elizabeth I, known as the Rainbow Portrait. It has been attributed to Marcus Gheeraerts The Younger and to Isaac Oliver. It is believed to date from 1600-1601. Public Domain.

The religious question, however, did not go away. In 1570 Elizabeth was excommunicated. by Pope Pius V. In his papal bull Regnans in Excelsis, he referred to ‘the pretended Queen of England and the servant of crime’, declaring her a heretic. On pain of excommunication, Elizabeth’s subjects were released by Pius V from allegiance to her.

Following the discovery of assassination plots, harsh laws were passed against Roman Catholics. For her involvement in such plots, Mary Queen of Scots, first cousin once removed of Elizabeth, and a likely successor to her, was ultimately executed in 1587. Elsewhere in Europe there were threats of invasions. Philip of Spain (by now titled Philip II) believed he had a claim to the English throne through his marriage to the late Queen Mary I. Indeed, the purpose of the Spanish Armada was to overthrow Elizabeth and re-establish Roman Catholicism by conquest.

Choosing never to marry, and dying without issue in 1603, Elizabeth was the last of the Tudor monarchs.

James I, reigned 1603-1625
Elizabeth was succeeded by James I. James was great great grandson to Elizabeth’s grandfather, Henry VII, via his mother, Mary, Queen of Scots; Mary’s father, King James V of Scotland; and his mother Margaret who was Henry VII’s daughter. Already king of Scotland for 36 years by the time of his accession to the throne of England, he is known as James VI of Scotland and I of England, or James VI and I. The first English King of the House of Stuart, his twenty-two year reign over Scotland, England and Ireland is known as the Jacobean era.

Although baptised as a Roman Catholic, James was brought up as a Protestant. While personally reasonably tolerant on the matter of religion, he faced challenges from various religious viewpoints, including Presbyterianism, Roman Catholicism, and different branches of English Separatists. The aftermath of the Gunpowder Plot in 1605 led to strict penalties for Roman Catholics.

IMAGE: Portrait of James VI and I, 1614. Artist Unknown. Public Domain.

A prolific writer himself, it was James VI and I who sponsored the translation of the Bible into English, now known as the Authorised King James Bible. James also endorsed the practice of witch hunting, as set down in his 1597 publication Daemonologie. Unlike Elizabeth, whose approach to monarchy tended towards cooperation, James’s held an absolutist view of the Divine Right of Kings.

Charles I, reigned 1625-1649
James VI/ I was succeeded in 1625 by his second son Charles I. Charles was Protestant, and deeply religious. However, at a time when plainer forms of worship with greater personal piety were gaining ground, Charles favoured the high Anglican form of worship. In terms of ritual, this was the closest to Catholicism. Charles’s marriage in 1625 to Henrietta Maria, daughter of Henry IV of France added to the concerns. Having promised Parliament that his union with a Roman Catholic would not bring about advantages for those wishing to recuse themselves from church attendance on alternative religious grounds, Charles nevertheless signed a commitment promising exactly that as part of his marriage treaty.

Charles’s personal spending on the arts greatly increased the crown’s debts, bringing him into conflict with Parliament. Like his father, Charles believed in the Divine Right of Kings: his authority came from God; that of Parliament came only from Magna Carta. Therefore in 1629 he dismissed Parliament, commencing a period of Personal Rule, alternatively known as the ‘Eleven Years’ Tyranny’ which lasted until 1640.

IMAGE: Portrait of Charles I. Artist and date Unknown. Public Domain.

All this, and more, made Charles a deeply unpopular king. Riots and unrest started to spread. In 1637 he attempted to impose a High Church liturgy and prayer book in Scotland. This led to riots in Edinburgh. October 1641 saw an Irish uprising, leading to further tensions between Charles and his Parliament over the command of the Army. In August 1642, against the wishes of Parliament, Charles raised his standard at Nottingham. This symbolic act signaled the start of a Civil War, with Charles I defending his divine right to rule, and Parliament advocating for a greater say in government. By the end of the year, each side had amassed an army of 60,000 to 70,000 men, the Royalists known as Cavaliers and the Parliamentarians as Roundheads. In general, Charles enjoyed support in the north and west of England, while Parliament controlled the South and East, together with London and, significantly, most of the key ports. In 1643 Scottish Covenanters entered into an alliance with the English Parliamentarians. Key to their Solemn League and Covenant of 1643 was a pledge to work towards the establishment of Presbyterianism in England. The intervention of the Scottish was almost certainly key to the eventual success of the Parliamentarians, and the Battle of Naseby, 1645, proved to be the turning point.

In 1646 Charles was captured and imprisoned. On 30th January 1649 he was beheaded. The eleven-year Interregnum had begun.

Pedigree Chart – the story so far: Henry VII to Charles I

This is, necessarily, a whirlwind tour. If you’d like to read a little more about each of these monarchs (and the ones who came before and after), you’ll find a good introduction at the Royal UK website. For more detail, go to the Wikipedia page for each. For more than that, you’ll need to explore more scholarly texts.

My next post will move on from here, and we’ll see where the Jacobites fit in.

Remembering the Battle of Holbeck Moor

Posted on 24th Oct 2024 by English Ancestors

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.

The Rotten and Pocket Boroughs of the Isle of Wight

Posted on 3rd Oct 2024 by English Ancestors

This post is published to coincide with the release of my video presentation for All About That Place 2024: The Rotten and Pocket Boroughs of the Isle of Wight.

The 15-minute video starts with an overview of some useful information and terminology about voting arrangements for counties and boroughs throughout the United Kingdom before the Reform Act of 1832. This could be of relevance to your research interests if you have ancestry or a special place of interest anywhere in the UK. The information presented below the video will help you to find out if your place was a borough or a parliamentary borough; and if the latter, what the voting arrangements were. It will also help you to work out if your place was a rotten or pocket borough, and why. Some of the linked articles are quick and easy to navigate and will provide the information you need. Others are longer, in-depth reads. I hope you’ll find it all useful and interesting.

If you’d like to know more about the three places on the Isle of Wight mentioned in the video, there are links to more information about them too.

Information about the ‘Unreformed House of Commons’ (before 1832)

Check if your place of interest was a borough:
Wikipedia: Ancient Boroughs
Here you’ll find information about the history of boroughs right back to Anglo-Saxon times. Towards the end there is a list of English boroughs during the period 1307-1660 and an incomplete list of Welsh boroughs (with a request for additional information). You’ll notice some surprising ommissions. e.g. Manchester was granted borough status in 1301 but lost it in a court case in 1359.
Wikipedia: List of burghs in Scotland
In this list the ‘earlier burghal history’ of each modern day burgh ‘from the coming into force of the Burgh Police (Scotland) Act 1892’ is included. This is not, therefore, a complete list of all ancient Scottish burghs.

For a more scholarly and in-depth look at medieval borough charters, see:
John West: Town Records, 1983. London, Phillimore. Chapter 4: Medieval Borough Charters c.1042-1500.
Here we learn, for example, that Birmingham, omitted from the Wikipedia article, was granted the right to hold a weekly market in 1166 but this is known only by virtue of alternative records: no charter has survived.

Check if your place was a parliamentary borough:
Wikipedia: List of counties and boroughs of the unreformed House of Commons in 1800
Constituencies are listed for each of England, Wales, Scotland, Ireland by counties and boroughs, then special arrangements for certain Universities.

Check the voting qualification for your parliamentary borough (constituency):
The voting qualification is given in the List of counties and boroughs indicated above, but See also:
Wikipedia: Unreformed House of Commons
Scroll halfway down the page for a description of the different types of borough franchise.
Rural Historia: What is a Medieval Burgage Plot?

***Remember! Depending on the voting qualification type of your borough, there could be name-rich documents showing the names of the voters and how they voted.***

Check if your place was a ‘Rotten borough’ or ‘Pocket borough’:
See:
ECPPEC: Rotten Boroughs
This article includes a map showing all the Rotten Boroughs. They are all in England.
Wikipedia: Rotten and Pocket Boroughs
There’s an interesting list of references to Rotten Boroughs in literature and popular culture at the end of this page.
Wikipedia: List of constituencies enfranchised and disfranchised by the Reform Act 1832
The 1832 Reform Act did not resolve all ills in the political landscape, but it was a start. Some were disenfranchised entirely in 1832; for others, changes were made to their entitlement to political representation.
History of Parliament Online: The Constituencies [1754-1790]
A long read. Scroll down about one fifth of the page to reach the long section on The Boroughs. Dealing with each type of borough in turn (Freeholder, Corporation, etc) it shows how bribery, corruption and ‘patronage’ were at large in almost all of the boroughs at some level or another, not just in Rotten and Pocket boroughs. Examples of specific boroughs are given throughout so you may well find info about your place of interest here.

*****

Information about Newport, Newtown and Yarmouth on the Isle of Wight

Newport
Wikipedia: Newport, I.O.W. History of Parliamentary Constituency
Wikipedia: Newport, Isle of Wight
Visit Isle of Wight: Newport

Newtown
Wikipedia: Newtown, I.O.W. History of Parliamentary Constituency
Wikipedia: Newtown, Isle of Wight
I.O.W. History Centre: Medieval Newtown and the benefits of failure
This includes a useful modern-day map with medieval overlay showing the location (and preservation) of the original burgage plots.
National Trust: History of Newtown National Nature Reserve and Old Town Hall

Yarmouth
Wikipedia: Yarmouth, I.O.W. History of Parliamentary Constituency
Wikipedia: Yarmouth Town Hall, I.O.W.
Visit Isle of Wight: Yarmouth
C.W.R. Winter: The Ancient Town of Yarmouth, 1981, Isle of Wight Country Press, Newport. Viewed at: Isle of Wight Record Office.
A.G. Cole: Yarmouth Isle of Wight, 3rd edition, 1951,Isle of Wight Country Press, Newport. Viewed at: Isle of Wight Record Office.

There is a detailed discussion of the three Isle of Wight boroughs in:
Jack Donald Lavers: The Parliamentary History of the Isle of Wight 1779-1886, March 1991: M Phil thesis. Viewed at: Isle of Wight Record Office

Hallie Ribenhold: The Scandalous Lady W: an eighteenth century tale of sex, scandal and divorce. 2008, Vintage, London
Relates the story of Lady Seymour Worsley and her abusive husband, Sir Richard Worsley, baronet, of Appuldurcombe House, wroxall, I.O.W. He was MP for Newport 1774-1784, then for Newtown 1790-93 and 1796-1801. A fascinating read, which encompasses the position of women before the Married Women’s Property Acts and the availability of divorce, as well as rotten and pocket boroughs in operation. With the backing of other landed families, the Worsley family regularly represented all three of the Island’s boroughs.

Housing the urban poor in 19th century England

Posted on 20th Sep 2024 by English Ancestors

“THE EDITUR OF THE TIMES PAPER
Sur, — May we beg and beseech your proteckshion and power. We are Sur, as it may be, livin in a Wilderniss, so far as the rest of London knows anything of us, or as the rich and great people care about. We live in muck and filth. We aint got no priviz, no dust bins, no drains, no water-splies, and no drain or suer in the hole place. The Suer Company, in Greek St., Soho Square, all great, rich and powerfool men, take no notice watsomdever of our complaints. The Stenche of a Gully-hole is disgustin. We all of us suffer, and numbers are ill, and if the Colera comes Lord help us.

Some gentlemans comed yesterday, and we thought they was comishioners from the Suer Company, but they was complaining of the noosance and stenche our lanes and corts was to them in New Oxforde Strect. They was much surprized to see the seller in No. 12, Carrier St., in our lane, where a child was dyin from fever, and would not believe that Sixty persons sleep in it every night. This here seller you couldent swing a cat in, and the rent is five shillings a week; but theare are greate many sich deare sellars. Sur, we hope you will let us have our complaints put into your hinfluenshall paper, and make these landlords of our houses and these comishioners (the friends we spose of the landlords) make our houses decent for Christions to live in. Preaye Sir com and see us, for we are living like piggs, and it aint faire we shoulde be so ill treted.

We are your respeckfull servents in Church Lane, Carrier St., and the other corts. Teusday, Juley 3, 1849.”

This letter was signed by fifty-four residents of the St Giles ‘rookery’ in London. Published on 5 July 1849 under the headline ‘A Sanitary Remonstrance‘.

***

The rapid expansion of our large industrial towns and cities started in the eighteenth century but was particularly so during the first half of the nineteenth, as increasing numbers of people migrated from rural areas and from Ireland. Between 1800-1850 the percentage of English citizens living in urban areas in the country as a whole increased from 30 to 50%, but in certain major industrial towns the growth was much greater. In Birmingham, between 1801 and 1851, the population increased from 71,000 to 233,000. In the same period Liverpool’s population grew from 82,000 to 376,000. In just one decade from 1821-31 Bradford’s population increased by 78%.

How on earth did these towns cope with housing and facilities for all these additional people? The simple answer is that they did not.

The thinking was that needs would be served by demand: employers would build factories, and speculative builders would build the housing needed for the incoming labourers. Of course the builders required a profit for their work, and the problem was that the workers were paid very little. Even the cheapest housing meant some workers were paying a quarter of a very meagre income on rent. By the end of the nineteenth century, nearly one third of the population would be considered ‘the very poor’.

There were several consequences. One was that purpose-built housing for the masses was of very poor quality, often built with just twenty or so years left on a land lease and deliberately built to last for just that length of time. Walls were the thickness of a single row of bricks, and the bricks themselves were often insufficently fired. Proper foundations were not dug out, meaning floor boards on the lower levels could be laid just a couple of inches above bare earth. In the Midlands and the North, back-to-backs became common. Each house had a party wall on three sides, with the door and windows only on the remaining side. Sometimes these were built in rows along parallel streets, but often they were arranged around courtyards, with the outer properties facing the street and the (cheaper) inner properties accessed via an alley or tunnel. Consequently, not only was there no possibility of air flow from one side of the house to the other, but the courtyard itself would have very little movement of air.

Room sizes were small, and despite the generally large family sizes, most purpose-built housing for the labouring classes had just two rooms: one up and one down, plus possibly an attic space. In the 1870s 43% of married women had 5 to 9 children; 18% had more than ten children. Hence as a matter of course, most individual family homes for the workers would be overcrowded.

As an alternative there was the option of repurposing existing housing. The large family homes built in the Georgian period for better-off families might now be sub-divided, with rooms on each floor let to different families. Repurposing in this way was always cheaper than purpose-built, but it did mean that the facilities and level of privacy originally intended for one family were now to be shared amongst several.

For the poorest of all, these already inadequate spaces were shared. Two, three or even more families would share small houses, designated rooms on a floor, or even one room.

Worst of all, the cellars of larger houses were rented out as dwellings – and even they might house more than one family. Some families even kept livestock in a pen alongside the family. There was, of course, no drainage. What’s more, the floors were bare earth and often they were below the water table, meaning they regularly flooded.

As the nineteenth century progressed and towns prospered, local authorities started to erect grand buildings as a testament to civic pride. Roads were widened to facilitate easier passage of large numbers of hansom cabs, and towns were redrawn to make way for railway lines and their stations. All of this required clearance of existing housing, and often the routes and locations selected specifically targetted the housing of the working classes. This was generally thought to be a good thing, since the housing was filthy, a health hazard and an eyesore. However, no new housing was built. Consquently, these grand developments meant worse overcrowding since more families had to cram into the buildings that remained. There were also raised rents, since unscrupulous landlords sought to take advantage of the scarcity of housing. In London, 120,000 people were displaced, and no new housing built to accomodate them.

Vast ‘rookeries‘, already unfit for human habitation, were the only areas available for the very poor. These were characterised by narrow alleyways and poorly-constructed multiple-storey dwellings crammed into whatever space was available. St Giles in London, where the signatories of the above letter to The Times lived, was a rookery. So too was the ‘Devil’s Acre’: the land on which Victoria Street in Westminster was built.

To this perfect storm of poor quality, inadequate housing, overcrowding and lack of ventilation, we must add one more fact of life: People need toilets.

The flushing toilet, or water closet, depends upon ready availability of water and a system of sewers, but it was not until the middle of the nineteenth century that these started to be installed as standard. Prior to that there were dry closets neutralised by earth or ashes; and cess pits. ‘Night soil’ would be collected by men whose job it was to take it to market gardens outside the towns, where it could be used as fertiliser. In some houses the cess pit was actually in the cellar, so that waste collected immediately below the floor boards of the ground floor dwelling rooms. Perhaps it was the rapid growth of towns and cities that meant these arrangements did not always go to plan, but we do know that collection of sewage and general waste was not always carried out. In one infamous rookery in Leeds called the Boot-and-Shoe Yard, no waste was collected for more than six months. When eventually this was remedied, over seventy cart loads were taken away. In any case, privies were shared between households – maybe as many as three hundred people, although the St Giles signatories claimed to have none at all: “We live in muck and filth. We aint got no priviz, no dust bins, no drains, no water-splies, and no drain or suer in the hole place.”

In 1842 serious concerns about the insanitary conditions in Leeds’s Boot-and-Shoe Yard led to the demolition of this rookery just off one of the main streets in the town. The 1841 census is therefore the only snapshot we have of the number and occupations of the residents. As can be seen from this extract, many of them were migrants from Ireland.

Extract from 1841 census showing entries for 12 individuals who were living in Leeds's Boot-and-Shoe Yard

Citation: 1841 Census of England and Wales. Original data: The National Archives. Source: Find My Past – the ‘I’ in the last column indicates those who were from Ireland

The popular view was that the muck and filfth was the fault of the residents, whose standards, lifestyle and morals were unacceptable.

It wasn’t until well into the second half of the nineteenth century that change gradually came. Prior to this there were no planning laws or building regulations. Gradually, local authorities were empowered to require builders to conform to certain minimum requirements, but many did not act on this because of the extra cost to the ratepayer. Increasingly it came to be understood that the health crisis and the housing crisis were two strands of the same issue, and permissive powers evolved into mandatory, but it would take the slum clearance and demolition programmes before finally these living conditions were consigned to the history books.

How can we make use of this information in our family history research?
Armed with this understanding of living conditions we can look for clues to learn more about the conditions in which our ancestors lived. Often, but not always, the worst conditions were occupied by immigrants. Here are some ideas:

Look for multiple households at one address in the census
In this extract from the 1901 census we see three households including 23 people living in one house. In fact this is only part of the return for number 5 Brick Lane: the rest are recorded on the following page. In total there are four households totalling 31 people. Three of the households have lodgers – a total of five lodgers altogether in the house.

Extract from 1901 census for 5 Brick Lane. This shows 23 people from 3 households plus a lodger living at one address. The rest of the inhabitants of this property are on the next page of the census and are not shown on this extract.

Citation: 1901 Census of England and Wales. Original data: The National Archives. Source: ancestry.co.uk

Look for families living in cellars
The houses in Liverpool’s Edmund Street had cellars, and as with many of the larger properties in Liverpool, these were let as separate dwellings. The main house at number 56 is a lodging house, with five lodgers, but another family is recorded in the cellar.

Extract from 1851 census showing a lodging house which also has a separate cellar let as a dwelling

Citation: 1851 Census of England and Wales. Original data: The National Archives. Source: ancestry.co.uk

Use the largest scale maps you can find to identify yards or courtyards, especially with back-to-backs
This small section of Lee’s Square is taken from an 1850 map of Leeds. Unfortunately the rest of the Square is on the next Ordnance Survey sheet. Thanks to the large scale of this map we can see individual properties. What we see is that most of the properties in Lee’s Square are back-to-backs. The property behind each abode has the door and windows looking out on to the street. The rents for those properties will be slightly higher. Although we can’t see from this map section, the privy will be inside the Square, also the water pump. This, added to the obvious lack of free-flowing circulation of air, will mean the inner properties are less healthy places to live than the outer.

Small extract from Ordnance Survey Town Plan of Leeds, Surveyed 1847, Published 1850. The extract shows part of Lee's Square. The markings on the buildings indicate that most of the properties are back-to-backs, and that Lee Square is a small courtyard formed of the inner facing properties. The outer facing properties are on the surrounding roads.

Citation: Ordnance Survey Town Plan of Leeds, Surveyed 1847, published 1850. Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland. [Click here] for link to the full map.

Look for old photos of the addresses where your families lived
Ideally, you’ll be able to compare these with contemporary maps. The image below shows the same portion of Lee’s Square as you see on the map above. You can see the two sets of steps leading to the doors of two of the houses, and a cellar of some sort below. The photo is dated 1901 – fifty years after the map was surveyed and published, and the lean-to appears to have been added in the intervening years. The buildings on the southern side of the square seem to be lower and perhaps don’t have the substructure. This is of particular interest to me because my 2x great grandfather was living here in the 1890s. Thanks to a Coroner’s Report after his death I know that his house was above a stable, but it isn’t clear from this photo or its partner (looking east) where the dwellings above a stable would be.

Black and white photograph dated 1901 showing an old yard with two storey houses on each side and steps leading to three of the houses. A man is standing outside a brick-built lean-to building on the left of the shot. This may be a privy.

Citation: ‘Lee’s Square looking west, 1901’ Source: Leodis. [Click here] for link to image on Leodis website.

If you have ancestors who might be classed as ‘urban poor’ in the nineteenth century, I hope these ideas will help you.

All of this new research has been carried out as part of my One Place Study for Shackleton’s Fold.

I’m also developing a presentation on the subject of Housing the Urban Poor in 19th Century England. If this is of interest to you and your local or family history society, please take a look at my Public Speaking page, and follow the link at the bottom of that page to contact me.

***

Sources

David Olusoga & Melanie Backe-Hansen: A House Through Time, 2021. Picador, London

John Burnett: A Social History of Housing 1815-1970, 1978. David & Charles, Newton Abbot

Stanley D Chapman (Ed): The History of Working-Class Housing, 1971. David & Charles, Newton Abbot – this book has separate chapters on London, Glasgow, Leeds, Nottingham, Liverpool, Birmingham, South-East Lancashire/ Pennines, Ebbw Vale.

B R Mitchell and Phyllis Deane: Abstract of British Historical Statistics, 1962. Cambridge University Press.

Not such ‘little’ lives after all…

Posted on 3rd Oct 2023 by English Ancestors

One of my great grandfathers, George, was adopted. This was in the 1860s, so it was an informal arrangement and the couple who took him in were his biological father’s older sister and her husband, whose name was Feargus.

Feargus had a middle name: O’Connor; and although I was new to genealogy at the time of discovering all this, I already understood enough to know there was a strong likelihood that this was a maiden name, probably from his mother’s side and probably the two names indicating an Irish connection. However, following back Feargus’s mother’s and father’s lines for a few generations, I could see they were solid Yorkshire stock. No Irish, and no O’Connors. It was a mystery.

The solving of the mystery, when it came, was from a surprising source. But before going onto that, I want to tell you something about Feargus’s parents.

They were nail-makers, and they lived in the village of Hoylandswaine, not far from Barnsley. I found a little book published by the Barnsley Family History Society: The Nail-Makers of Hoylandswaine, collated and compiled by Cynthia Dalton. It includes not only the history of nail-making in Hoylandswaine, but a description of the life, together with potted biographies of the nail-makers recorded in the censuses. I learned that the life of a nail-maker was a hard one. Some had their own forges and worked as a family unit; others rented space in someone else’s forge; and yet more worked for a nail master on his premises.

Click here to see a surviving Hoylandswaine nail forge, now a museum.

Usually, the men started work at 6am, and might keep going until 10pm, with breaks only for meals throughout the day. Pay was low, and since some of the nail masters were also the village shopkeepers or inn-keepers who couldn’t resist squeezing a little extra profit from their workers, payment may have been made in the form of provisions from that other business. Women did the work too, for less money, and alongside taking care of the house and children.

Hoylandswaine nailers go rat-a-tat-tat,
On thin watter porridge, and no’ much o’ that

Anon. (In: Cynthia Dillon: The Nail-Makers of Hoylandswaine)

It seemed a very small life: long hours of repetitive work, isolation, hardship, trapped by low wages and unscrupulous employment practices, and no power to change any of that. I wondered what time was left for enjoyment, or if life was one long slog from beginning to end; and then I set aside Feargus’s family and moved on to other lines.

It was years later – early 2019 – when the riddle of Feargus’s Irish connection was solved. It came while I was reading John Waller’s The Real Oliver Twist – the true story of pauper apprentice Robert Blincoe. Part two (p.79) begins with a quote – and I gasped when I saw the name:

‘Scores of poor children, taken from workhouses or kid-napped in the streets of the metropolis, used to be brought down by […] coach to Manchester and slid into a cellar in Mosley Street as if they had been stones or any other inanimate substance.’

Feargus O’Connor (1836)

I looked him up… and realised I had known Feargus O’Connor all along – I learned about him in ‘A’ Level history at school, and in view of the Leeds connection (below) we would have spent some time on him, but my brain had mostly opted to remember the activities of ‘Orator’ Hunt.

Stipple engraving portrait of Chartist leader Feargus Edward O'Connor. — **Feargus Edward O’Connor** (c.1796-1855)
Stipple engraving portrait by unknown artist
Source: Wikipedia. This file has been extracted from another file, Public Domain

Feargus Edward O’Connor was an Irish landowner and lawyer, elected as M.P. for Cork in 1832. (Ireland was part of the United Kingdom, so his seat was in Parliament at Westminster.) In 1835 he was re-elected but disqualified on the grounds that he had insufficient property to qualify as an M.P. (although it seems that was not so). It was from this time onwards that he began to agitate for radical reform in England, speaking at rallies and meetings and emerging as the leader of the Chartist cause. He campaigned for the ‘Five Cardinal Points of Radicalism’, which would later be five of the six points embodied in the People’s Charter. In 1837 he founded the radical Northern Star newspaper in Leeds; and then in 1840 was arrested for sedition, serving fifteen months in York Castle gaol.

1840 was the year my adoptive great great grandfather was born. His parents’ choice of name – Feargus O’Connor Heppenstall – speaks volumes. It turns out they did know the conditions in which they were working were unjust. They could imagine a better life. And what’s more, they knew of developments throughout the country and the movement for change; and through the work of Feargus O’Connor, they saw a way to achieve that. It turns out their lives were not so little after all. They were fighting for a better world at a time when that was much-needed; and I am proud of them.

In fact my tale is awash with Feargus O’Connors, all of them in Leeds. As a young man my adoptive great great grandfather Feargus made his way to Leeds and became a butcher. His adopted son, my great grandfather George, would go on to name his own first son Feargus O’Connor Heppenstall too, although I don’t think George was a political man, and believe this was a tribute to the man he considered his father rather than to the Chartist leader.

The original Feargus O’Connor was not a man without controversy. Undoubtedly charismatic, he was admired for his energy and powerful oratory, but also criticised for advocating physical force if necessary in order to achieve his goal of universal male suffrage. In this, he went further than the moderate line taken by other Chartists.

I was reminded of all this last week, while watching videos recorded by experts for All About That Place. One such expert was Mark Crail, who has a website and a blog about Chartist Ancestors, as well as a separate website about Trade Union Ancestors. There is also a page dedicated to the Six Points of the People’s Charter. Some of the articles focus on Chartism in different parts of the country; some on leaders. There are quite a few blog posts dedicated to Feargus O’Connor’s life and work. If your ancestors were in the industrial heartlands during the nineteenth century, or if you know they were active in the Trade Union movement, you might be interested to explore these sites.

This is what I love about family history. The most ordinary seeming people can have surprising stories to tell if you delve a little deeper. It is through these stories that we can learn about the lived experiences of people in different places, classes and at different times throughout our history.

Recording women and business in the censuses

Posted on 3rd Jun 2023 by English Ancestors

It has long been considered that women’s occupations were under-recorded in the Victorian censuses. From the end of the eighteenth century there was a growing separation of work spheres for men and women. A middle class ideal had emerged, in which a woman’s place was in the home, where she had responsibility for the emotional, physical and moral needs of the family, while the man’s role was to work to provide for them all.

Of course this was not an ideal to which most working class women could aspire. Although many married women from the labouring classes of childbearing years had no choice but to stay home and look after their children, they did this alongside cooking, cleaning and doing the laundry. They may also have taken in work to fit in alongside the above. Those three little words: ‘Unpaid Domestic Duties’ – or even a blank space where the name of an occupation should be written – may suggest a life of leisure, but the reality for many women involved long hours of hard physical work.

There was also the matter of the legal position of women and property. Prior to the Married Women’s Property Act of 1770 everything a woman earned was legally the income of her husband; while prior to the Married Women’s Property Act of 1882, all of a woman’s property and possessions passed to her husband when she married. It isn’t difficult to imagine that these assumptions and attitudes would filter through into society, and indeed into the decennial enumerations of people and their lives:

“Census enumerators, who were mainly men, gave to household heads, again mostly male, census household schedules which they filled up using instructions provided by the exclusively male civil servants of the General Register Office (GRO) in London. The Victorian enumerators collected the household schedules and copied them into census enumeration books (CEBs), and then dispatched these to the officials at the GRO. When the latter received the CEBs they proceeded to ‘abstract’ the information in them using classification and coding systems they had devised to create tables and commentaries to be published in Parliamentary Papers.”
(See Edward Higgs and Amanda Wilkinson: Women, Occupations and Work in the Victorian Censuses Revisited.)

Based on in-depth research and analysis, the report just cited included a provisional conclusion that the nineteenth-century census returns *are* a reliable source for the study of women’s work in the period. However, as genealogists we look at individual people rather than trends.

A research project I’m working on has prompted me to think about a very specific occupational group: firstly, family businesses, where the husband/ head of household and the wife are working together from the home or shop; and secondly, exactly the same circumstances, but where the woman owned and ran the company before marriage.

Census records from my previous research for two examples of this are as follows:

In 1911, Oldham (below), a husband was listed as ‘Musical Instrument Dealer’, working on own account, and the premises were a shop with the family living above it. The business was established and seemingly successful. His wife is listed as ‘Assisting in the business’. In the ‘status code’ added in pen by the enumerator (second column from end) the husband’s status is 6 (own account); his wife’s is 0 (meaning ‘no employment’):

In 1891, Leeds (below), the husband was listed as ‘Wardrobe(?) Shop Keeper’, employer. His wife and their 19 year-old daughter are both ‘Shop Assistants’, employed. (Employment status is indicated by the location of the X in the last three columns.)

Extract from an 1891 census schedule showing the different attitudes to men's work and women's work

But then I came across Mary.
Mary was a Lodging House Keeper on the Isle of Wight. As an unmarried woman, living in a new house in an attractive expanding town, she built up her lodging house business from scratch. However, in 1853, fifteen or twenty years into her lodging house business, Mary married.

Legally, from the moment Mary signed the marriage register, everything she had worked for, and everything she owned, passed to her husband, Richard. If he had wanted to gamble it all away, throw her out on the streets, or whatever his whim, he could have done it. According to the Law, Mary had not a penny to her name. How would this play out on the records?

From that time, it is Richard who is listed in directories as the Lodging House Keeper. By virtue of the property he also has the right to vote in 1857 – something that was, of course, denied Mary prior to that. To Richard, too, it also falls to pay the parish Poor Rate Taxes. However, the census enumeration books tell a slightly different story:

In 1861, the first census after their marriage, Richard is listed as head of household and ‘Lodging House Keeper’. Mary, however, is not relegated to Unpaid Domestic Duties: she is ‘Lodging House Mistress’.

Unusual extract from an 1851 census in which the husband and wife are accorded (almost) equal occupational status in the census enumeration book entry. — Richard and Mary Hayman, 1861 England Census: Class: Rg 9; Piece: 658; Folio: 14; Page: 23; GSU roll: 542679

Ten years later – even more astonishing – both Richard and Mary are listed as ‘Lodging House Keeper’.

Unusual extract from an 1851 census in which the husband and wife are accorded equal occupational status in the census enumeration book entry. — Richard and Mary Hayman, 1871 England Census: Class: RG10; Piece: 1166; Folio: 37; Page: 19; GSU roll: 827798

Looking through census pages, the only examples I’ve found of a woman named on the census as the person running a business is if she was unmarried or widowed. I’ve also heard of women listed in local directories as having businesses in the high street, and yet having no mention of their occupation in the census – although I haven’t yet actually found any examples of that myself. If you look up Charlotte Brontë or Elizabeth Gaskell in the censuses taken at the height of their success, you’ll find an unmarried Charlotte whose occupation is ‘none’, and a married Elizabeth who is a ‘Minister’s wife’. All of which makes Mary’s entries here even more remarkable – to the extent that I’m surprised the census enumerator didn’t water it down on transferring the information to the enumeration books.

Having spent some time finding out about Mary, I have a sense of a strong woman who liked to help the young women in her family to progress in their lives. These entries add to that, perhaps providing an insight into her marriage: Richard’s respect for Mary, and Mary’s strength of character.

What about you? I’d love to know of any other finds along these lines. Mary is unusual, but I hope she isn’t a one-off!

Monarchy

Posted on 6th May 2023 by English Ancestors

When I started my journey into my family’s past I never expected to find riches and grand families. Indeed, what I love about genealogy is that it enables us to home in on the ‘little’ people, and to find the extraordinary in their seemingly ordinary lives. I soon realised that this ‘bottom up’ focus was the difference between Genealogy and the History I studied to ‘A’ Level at school. Yet we cannot really understand our ancestors’ lives without knowing something of that social and political backdrop which is the stuff of formalised history studies: the local history, the manorial system, changing governments and their legislation and increasingly, as we travel back further in time, the whims, decisions, abuses and power of the monarch.

Today, as the coronation of Charles III as King of the United Kingdom takes place at Westminster Abbey, I thought it would be interesting to focus on the kings and queens of England, Great Britain and the United Kingdom, and to see how that history merges with and indeed shaped the world our ancestors knew.

Let’s start with a YouTube video from UsefulCharts about the British Monarchy Family Tree: Medieval Kings of England & Scotland to Charles III. This deals with the succession of the monarchy from Anglo-Saxon times right through to present day.

At 30 minutes long, the video requires a little investment of time, but the family tree chart is absolutely brilliant, allowing the narrator to whizz up and down and from side to side as he explains very clearly the sometimes complex events and reasons leading to the passing of the throne from one king or queen to the next. Even if your grasp of all this is quite sketchy, you’re sure to meet people whose names you know, and you’ll start to see how they all fit together. In my case, studying heraldry and pedigrees, and getting to grips with the cataloguing of official documents according to the regnal years dating system forced me to familiarise myself with some of the medieval monarchs. However, in this chart you’ll also meet Macbeth, ‘Lady Macbeth’ and Duncan, as well as Alfred the Great; and you’ll be able to untangle the relationship between Aethelred the Unready and King Canute, and the events that led from them to the invasion of William the Conqueror. There were also some female monarchs about whom I knew very little: Lady Jane Grey, Queen Anne and – for shame – I am one of those people who thought Mary Queen of Scots and Mary I of England (the older sister of Elizabeth I, also known as ‘Bloody Mary’) were the same person. If you never really understood how William of Orange came to be next in line to the English throne, or how George I came to be king (he is in fact descended from the Stuarts and the Plantagenets, but not on the direct male line), this video will clarify everything. Finally, I hadn’t previously realised that it was the accession of Henry VIII to the throne that brought an end to the War of the Roses, since he was of both the House of York via his mother and that of Lancaster via his father. This also explains why the Tudor Rose, or Rose of England combines the red rose of Lancaster with the white rose of Yorkshire at its heart.

Other monarchs feature in events more personal to my own family research. For example Edward ‘The Black Prince’ has a special place at the heart of my home town, Leeds – although no one really knows why! A large bronze statue of the Prince in City Square was unveiled in 1903 to mark Leeds’s new city status. Then there’s Henry of Lancaster who, via a circuitous route, had inherited the Manor of Leeds. Consequently, in 1399 when he was crowned Henry IV, Leeds became a royal manor, remaining so until 1629. Watching the video I see that Edward The Black Prince is the older brother of Henry IV’s father – John of Gaunt, first Duke of Lancaster – who, as mentioned above, had by chance become lords of the Manor of Leeds… and that seems to be as close a connection as we’ll ever find. Nevertheless, the statue is much-loved, and on a personal note I’m pleased to have done my part in clearing that up…

My knowledge of the Jacobite Uprising has largely been informed by Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series (it turns out I’m not as high brow as you might have imagined), and I already knew of a tenuous link from this to my own ancestry: on 24th September 1745, my 7x great grandfather, the Reverend Lister Simondson, was one of the Association at York Castle who pledged funds to raise a militia against the Jacobite Threat.

I wonder if this video sparks off any connections, tenuous or otherwise, to your own ancestry?

If you enjoyed the above video I also found a couple of shorter ones. The first focuses on the more recent connections: the descendants of Queen Victoria, who feature in the royal families of all of the European monarchies and kingdoms. You’ll see footage of George V and Tsar Nicholas: first cousins, and looking uncannily alike, as well as lookalikes Edward VII and his nephew Kaiser Wilhelm II (also therefore George V’s first cousin, as well as third cousin to Nicholas II).

And finally, a little more information about the descent of House names, and specifically Charles III’s technical connection via his father to the House of Glücksburg, although he will maintain the Windsor name. In both these videos you’ll see how marriages were far from love matches, but a means of building empires and wealth. In this they are simply grander and more pan-European examples of the kind of pedigree charts we have in this country.

You simply can’t do advanced genealogical research without having an understanding of the importance of this historical backdrop, and at least knowing where you can go to look it up, so if any of this is new to you, I hope you’ve found this little selection of videos useful and interesting. Preparing it has certainly clarified some things for me.

*****

On an unrelated matter…
If any of you are in Leeds, and might be free for an hour next Thursday 11th May 2023, at lunchtime, I’ll be giving a talk about my research on one of my own ancestral lines, the kinds of records I used, and what I learned about seventeenth century Leeds and Woodhouse in the process.