Agrarian Riots

In the 1820s and 1830s, desperate agricultural labourers in England began to revolt. There were a few factors involved in causing this unrest but Land Enclosure is considered to have played a large part.

Agrarian Rioters in 1830

Before Enclosure

Before enclosure, villages used an open field system of farming. Large open fields were divided into strips that would be farmed by its owners. They were often scattered, and there were no fences or hedges to divide them.

There was also an area of common land used for grazing. This was not open to the general public but was land (controlled by the lord of the manor) that people from that village had rights to use. The land would be used to pasture cattle or keep livestock such as geese, and collect turf, firewood, fruit or berries. There would be a communal consensus for when and how the land would be farmed.

After Enclosure

After enclosure, the separate strips were consolidated so that owners had unified pieces of land. These were marked out through fences or hedges with absolute property rights. No communal consensus was needed – owners could do with their land as they wished.

Depiction of how village land looked before and after enclosure
Before and After Enclosure

Enclosure of land was not new, but in the late 18th century it was now being formalised with parliamentary acts. A landowner wanting to enclose land in their parish would obtain a private Act of Parliament. Commissioners would then visit the parish to survey the area and hear claims of other land holders or those with rights to the common. The commissioners would then enclose the open fields, allocating a plot of land that was equal in size to the total strips of land a landowner previously held. The common would also be divided and given to landowners depending on their total landholdings in the parish and access they had to the common.

People who previously had common rights lost the ability to use that land to make ends meet and those who still had some rights, such as tenant farmers, were increasingly asked for rent in cash rather than stock or produce.

How were agricultural labourers affected?

Consolidating the land meant that less workers were needed. It became more common for labourers to be paid by the day or week, or employed for short periods such as harvesting, hedging, ditching and threshing. Farmhands became casual labourers with no guarantee of work, and rates of pay dropped because there were so many available workers. The problem grew worse in 1815 when the Napoleonic Wars ended, and many thousands of soldiers returned to the rural labour market.

A Horse Gin in Use (The Illustrated Exhibitor, 1851)

The introduction of threshing machines aggravated the situation. Farm labourers who had previously been employed to manually thresh grain over the winter months, were replaced by cheaper and more efficient horse-powered machines. Groups of agricultural labourers began to rise up, setting fire to farms and destroying machinery.

If captured, the rioters faced imprisonment, transportation, and even execution, so it was not an act to be taken lightly.

If you have ancestors who were agricultural labourers in the 1820s and 1830s, they may well have been involved in the protests.

Sources:

Norfolk County Council: Enclosure

In Our Time: The Enclosures of the 18th Century

Wheatley Village Archive: Agricultural riots of 1820s and 1830s

 

Related posts:

Alfred Wreford

Just outside the entrance to St Mary’s church in Morchard Bishop, Devon, is a solitary grave.

The grave stone is so worn, only the name ‘Alfred Wreford’ can be made out.

Fortunately, there was a list of burials inside the church which quickly gave me Alfred’s death date and the fact he was only 8 years old when he died.

Of course, I wanted to know more. I was unable to find any mention of Alfred’s death in the newspaper, which indicates he was likely to have died from some kind of illness rather than a tragic accident. To know for sure, I’d have to order his death certificate. But if I ordered every certificate that took my fancy, I wouldn’t have enough money to eat, so that will have to remain a mystery for now.

But I’ve still been able to find some details about Alfred’s life.

Alfred was baptised at Morchard Bishop on 25 May 1863, the son of agricultural labourer Matthew Wreford and his wife, Mary Drew.  This was the second marriage for both his parents, and although Alfred would be the only child his parents would have together, he had 7 older half-siblings combined. At the time of his baptism, the family were residing on The Street in Morchard Bishop. 

In the 1871 census, Alfred can be found with his parents and 14-year-old half sister, living at ‘Sidbury’ (or Sidborough) which is part of the village of Oldborough (just south of Morchard Bishop).

I was able to find photographs of the house but it looks a lot grander today than it would have done in the 1870s. (Historic England states it was formerly a small farmhouse and adjoining cottage.)

Alfred would die only a few months after the census was taken, and be buried next to the church building, where I would discover him 153 years later.

But since I have a theory that I am related to every Wreford buried in Morchard Bishop, I wanted to find out how this boy was related to me.

Turns out, Alfred was my fourth cousin, once removed, and two sets of his 3rd great grandparents were also my 7th great grandparents:

Set one – William Wreford (1717-1763) and Thomasin Manley (1719 – 1794)
Set two – Matthew Wreford (1712-1752) and Sarah James (1717 – 1763)

William and Matthew were brothers – the children of Matthew Wreford (1682 – 1763) and Elizabeth Manley (1684 – 1757) – and two of Matthew’s children grew up to marry two of William’s children.

Common Ancestors with Alfred Wreford

Nice to have ‘met’ you, cousin Alfred.

Related posts:

The Bombing of Stowmarket Congregational Church

Black and white photo of the church showing the bomb damage
Stowmarket Congregational Chapel after the bombing 1941 (via SuffolkNews)

At around noon on Friday 31st January 1941, a lone German bomber was seen flying towards the town of Stowmarket in the heart of Suffolk. Enemy aircraft tended to fly low in the area to avoid the guns at nearby Wattisham Airfield, and this plane was flying so low under the clouds, that its swastikas could be seen from the ground.

The plane flew over Stowmarket from the direction of Combs Ford, firing its guns, before circling around to fly over again, and drop a stick of bombs in the general vicinity of the market place in town. Thankfully, the busy market place was missed, but a direct hit was made on Stowmarket Congregational Church, destroying the building. Houses behind the church grounds were also struck, killing one of the residents.

Sepia photograph of victorian gothic church with iron railings, trees and lamppost infront
Stowmarket Congregational Chapel (via Stowmarket Local History Group)

I learnt about this event through “The Bombing of Stowmarket Congregational Church” by Steve Williams (2004). The book is a compilation of many reports and eyewitness accounts of that day and I found it so fascinating that I devoured the contents in one sitting! The recollections are presented in such a way that you start to feel like you know the inhabitants and their various connections to each other.

Mrs Rhoda Farrow (nee Hearn), lived at ‘Marron’ (9 Kensington Road), behind the Congregational Church.  In the 1939 register, Mrs Farrow was recorded at the address with her son Ronald, daughter Marjorie and new son-in-law, Roland Wilden. Marjorie had actually married at the Congregational Church, only a month prior to the register being taken. (Her father, Rhoda’s husband Charles Farrow, had died only a few months before.)

Clipping of part of register
1939 register for Kensington Road showing the Farrow, Capp and Smith families

After the bombs fell on 31 January 1941, Bernard Moye, then 16 years old, accompanied the town’s surveyor, Mr. John Black, into town to assess the damage…

When they learnt that another bomb had fallen on Kensington Road they went to the scene and found other members of the rescue party who had already managed to get two ladies out, one of whom was Mrs. Capp, who had the flower shop in the Market Place next to Woolworth’s. They had saved themselves by sheltering under the stairs of Mrs. Capp’s house, which was named ‘Floral-Dene’.

Bernard remembers seeing the roof seeming to be suspended in mid-air with nothing much supporting it. They were then told that there was no-one in next door at ‘Marron’ and that Mrs. Farrow was at the railway station seeing her son off from Forces’ leave. This tragically was not the case as Bernard remembers being in the party which, after clearing some rubble from the passageway of Mrs. Farrow’s house, they then lifted the door that lay amongst the debris and found her body laying there. Bernard commented ‘she unfortunately appeared to have arrived home at the wrong moment.'”

(excerpt from The Bombing of Stowmarket Congregational Church (2004), pp15-16)

Mrs Beatrice Smith, who lived at number 7, had been at the first aid centre on 24-hour call with the Red Cross. She would serve in the Red Cross for 51 years. In 1975, on the occasion of her retirement, The Bury Free Press (7 Nov 1975, p2) remarked that her devotion to duty had probably saved her life. The book holds quite a few of recounts of near-misses and it appears extremely fortunate that Mrs Farrow was the only person killed in the attack.

The new Stowmarket Congregational Church was completed in 1955.

A new ultra-modern building was finally completed on the same site in 1955 and still exists (now known as the United Reformed Church). The new church’s contemporary look was very different from the previous church’s Victorian Gothic style and received mixed reactions. I can’t help but think that Stowmarket town centre would have a very different feel if the old building was still around today.

I also can’t help but think that it’s somewhat of an eerie coincidence that I was given this book and learnt of the bombing for the very first time, only a few days before the 83rd anniversary of the church’s destruction, and the death of Rhoda Farrow.

Related posts:

A Grave Mistake

man in deerstalker hat laying on the groundOne of my favourite things about genealogy is feeling like a detective, and today gave me another opportunity to don my deerstalker and grab my pipe.

I noticed that Find A Grave had an ‘extra’ child linked on the page of my great grandparents, George Wright Wreford Palmer and Margaret Palmer (nee Glaister). The ‘memorial’ was for an infant, William Tracey Palmer, born and died in 1911, which included the note: ‘Accidentally killed after his sleeping mother rolled over on him in bed.’ A tragic event, but I was a bit befuddled.

The problem was, George and Margaret were married in 1913, and although I’m no stranger to discovering ‘early’ children, I had never come across this one before. So of course, I needed to either prove or disprove the connection.

a dilapidated grave
Block 3 Plot 105 via Dunedin City Council

The gravesite is pretty dilapidated and only the faint outline of the name ‘Palmer’ can be seen on a marker – so no help there.

Grave marker with faint outline of the name PALMER
Block 3 Plot 105 via Dunedin City Council

I could find no birth or death record for an infant named William Tracey Palmer. There was a death record but this was for a 77-year-old man. The name Wreford Henry Palmer jumped out at me, due to my family connections with the name Wreford, but this was the child of Thomas Henry Palmer (George’s brother) and his wife Kate Palmer (nee Gilchrist).

I turned to the Dunedin City Council site which has a very helpful grave location search but there was no William Tracey Palmer buried at Anderson’s Bay cemetery between the years 1910 and 1919. So where the heck was this grave info coming from?

Screenshot showing 3 search results

Considering possible spelling variants may have been at play, I searched only for the surname ‘Palmer’ in that time period and got three results – none being William Tracey Palmer. The first I knew to be my great great grandfather (George’s father), the other two being children of the above mentioned couple Thomas and Kate. The only 1911 burial was for ‘W Henry Palmer’ but aged 16 years. I thought it was another dead end but lo and behold, the record page gave me the information I needed.

Screenshot of record details

Block 3, Plot 105; died 22 Nov 1911 – the same burial plot and death date given on the Find A Grave site. This was the burial record of the aforementioned Wreford Henry Palmer. Despite giving an age of ’16 years’, the notes section stated the ‘occupation’ of INFANT, so likely meant ’16 days’ – the burial register entry showed this to be the case.

Screenshot of burial entry record
Burial entry of Wreford Henry Palmer in Andersons Bay Cemetery records

So poor little Wreford Henry must have been linked accidentally as a child of his uncle when added to Find A Grave (his parents are also on the site) but I have no idea where the name ‘William Tracey’ came from. Unfortunately, at least 5 other people have since added ‘William Tracey’ as a child of my great grandparents (on Ancestry), so let this tale serve as a reminder to always CHECK YOUR SOURCES.

Related posts:

Who Dehoux Are You?

an old photograph of a woman
Florence Dehoux

Florence Dehoux married Leon Befays in Belgium in 1928. I was able to find Leon’s birth record fairly easily but had never managed to locate Florence’s.

It turns out there was a good reason for that… Florence was not born Florence Dehoux after all, but Florence Moreau! An official note next to the birth entry indicates that her parents were not married when she was born. When they married two years later, Florence was ‘legitimised’ as a child of their marriage.

Florence Marie Joseph Ghislaine Moreau was born 6 May 1903 at Wagnelee, Hainaut to 21-year-old Laure Moreau. Laure’s father Joseph registered the birth with the civil registrar the next day. {Note: although the name was recorded as Moreau, Joseph signs his name as Moreaux, as does Laure on her later marriage record.)

Laure would go on to marry Eugene Joseph Dehoux (from the nearby village of Saint-Amand) on 25 February 1905 at Wagnelee.

Entry in a book of birth registrations

Transcription:

L’an mil neuf cent trois, le sept du mois de mai à nix heures
du matin, Pardevant NOUS Stanislas Wauthy, Echevine,
par délégation Officier de l’Etat-Civil de la commune de Wagnelée,
province de Hainaut, est comparu Joseph Moreau, âgé de cinquante huit ans,
journalier, domicilié à Wagnelée, lequel a [aniste’d ?] l’accouchement,
qui nous a déclaré que le jour précédent â huit heures et denné ou soir
est né en cette commune de Laure Moreau, ménagere, célibataire âyée
de vingt un ans, née à Wagnelée et y domiciliée
________, un enfant du sexe
feminin qu’ il nous a présenté et auquel il a donné les prénoms
de Florence-Marie-Joseph-Ghislaine
les dites déclaration et présentation faites en présence de Louis Allart, âgé de trente
deux ans, maçon, et de Nestor Stercy, âgé de vingt huit ans,
menuisier, lou deux domiciliés à Wagnelée.
après lecture du présent acte, le déclarant et les témoins l’ ont signé
avec nous.

[In margin:]

L’ENFANT DONT L’ACTE DE NAISSANCE ESI CI-
CONTRE, A ÉTÉ LÉGITIMÉ PAR LE MARIAGE DE SES
PÈRE ET MÈRE Eugéne Joseph Dehoux
ET Laure Moreau
CONTRACTÉ À Wagnelée LE 5 février 1905

Translation:

The year one thousand nine hundred and three, the seventh day of May at six o’clock
in the morning, before US Stanislas Wauthy, Deputy Mayor,
by delegation Civil Registrar of the municipality of Wagnelée,
province of Hainaut, appeared Joseph Moreau, aged fifty eight years,
day labourer, domiciled in Wagnelée, legal [aniste’d ?] childbirth,
who declared to us that on the previous day at eight o’clock in the evening
was born in this commune to Laure Moreau, housewife, single aged
twenty-one years old, born in Wagnélee and domiciled there
________, a child of the female sex
that he presented to us and to whom he gave the first names
Florence-Marie-Joseph-Ghislaine
the said declaration and presentation made in the presence of Louis Allart, aged thirty
two years old, mason, and Nestor Stercy, twenty eight years old,
carpenter, both domiciled in Wagnelée.
After reading the present act, the declarant and the witnesses signed it
with us.

[In margin:]

The child whose birth certificate is shown opposite,
was legitimised by the marriage of his[/her]
father and mother Eugene Joseph Dehoux and Laure Moreau
contracted at Wagnelee on 5 February 1905

(Transcribed to the best of my ability and translated using various translation software – any corrections or suggestions are welcome.)

Related posts: