Identifying and Mapping Chartist Children

I think if you refer to the Bible you would not have this child named Fear­gus O’Con­nor.

Reverend Henry Ban­father, baptism of Hannah Fear­gus O’Connor Steward, St Mary and St Mar­ga­ret’s Church, Sprow­ston, 1841.1Northern Star, 1 May 1841, p. 6.

Naming children after radical political heroes was something of a tradition in Eng­land in the nineteenth century.2David Jones, Char­tism and the Char­tists, Lon­don, 1975, p. 24; Jutta Schwarzkopf, Women in the Char­tist movement, Basingstoke, 1991, p. 124. In particular, during the early 1840s thousands of working-class parents gave their children the names of imprisoned Char­tist leaders such as Fear­gus O’Connor or transported counterparts such as John Frost as a form of symbolic allegiance to these men and the radical-democratic cause.3For O’Con­nor see below. For Frost see David Wil­liams, John Frost: a study in Char­tism, Cardiff, 1939. For a gene­ral history of the movement see Malcolm Chase’s Char­tism: a new history, Man­ches­ter, 2007. As we’ll see below, it’s possible to identify these children at a national level and then map the districts where their births were registered. Doing so gives us a hitherto unexplored means of evaluating where Char­tism was strong and weak in the early 1840s, supplementing existing, more traditional primary sources and interpretation. The first part of this essay looks at the political christening phenomenon from a national perspective while the second takes a much more localised, micro-historical approach by examining political christenings in a small community of handloom weavers in the parish of Sprow­ston near Nor­wich.

Portrait of Char­tist leader Fear­gus O'Con­nor.
Fear­gus O’Con­nor, c. 1796-1855. Source: National Portrait Gallery.

Part I: The National Context

Why Name Your Child After a Char­tist Leader?

Why did so many Char­tists choose to name their children after political leaders? In many ways it was a symbolic response to overt legal repression by the state. Char­tism was a militant working-class movement for democratic reform which became prominent in 1838–39; following mass meetings in York­shire and Lanca­shire, a number of local and national leaders were arrested and gaoled (particularly in the wake of the New­port Ris­ing of late 1839 and other quasi-insurrectionary activity in York­shire).4For New­port see David Jones, The last rising: the New­port insurrection of 1839, Oxford, 1985. John Frost and two others, Wil­liam Jones and Zephan­iah Wil­liams, were convicted of high treason for leading the New­port Rising although their death sentences were commuted to transportation to Van Die­mens Land (now Tas­mania) for life. Similar waves of arrests and imprisonment happened again in 1842–43 and 1848–49 and throughout the decade many children were named for gaoled or transported Char­tists.

Fear­gus O’Connor was the most popular Char­tist leader: in fact, it would be fair to say that the charismatic Irishman was one of the most popular men in early-Victorian Eng­land.5The Halifax Chartist Ben Wil­son made this point in his autobiography. See ‘The struggles of an old Char­tist …’ in David Vincent, ed., Testaments of radicalism: memoirs of working class politicians, Lon­don, 1970, p. 222. For O’Con­nor see Donald Read and Eric Glasgow, Fear­gus O’Con­nor: Irishman and Char­tist, Lon­don, 1961; James Epstein, The lion of freedom: Fear­gus O’Con­nor and the Char­tist movement, 1832–42, Lon­don, 1982; Glenn Airey, ‘Fear­gus O’Con­nor 1842–1855: a study in Char­tist Leadership’, PhD thesis, Staffordshire University, 2003; Paul A. Pickering, Fear­gus O’Con­nor: a political life, Lon­don, 2008. A former parliamentary member for Cork and skilled orator who also owned the main Char­tist newspaper (the Nor­thern Star), upwards of a thousand children were named for O’Con­nor in the mid nineteenth century. One of this group, the famous Eng­lish actor and impresario Edward O’Con­nor Terry (born 1844 and pictured below), appears to have been fathered by O’Con­nor himself.6Read and Glasgow, Fear­gus O’Con­nor, p. 142. Although O’Con­nor alienated a number of other leading Char­tists and died insane in 1855, children continued to be named for him well into the second half of the nineteenth century. Other Char­tist leaders including Peter Murray McDouall, Wil­liam Lov­ett and James ‘Bron­terre’ O’Brien were similarly honoured (albeit to a much lesser extent than O’Connor or John Frost).7For O’Brien see Michael J. Turner, Radicalism and reputation: the career of Bronterre O’Brien, East Lansing, 2017. So too were earlier radical heroes such as Henry ‘Ora­tor’ Hunt (of Peterloo fame, who died in 1835)8For Hunt see John Belchem, ‘Orator Hunt’: Henry Hunt and English working class radicalism, Oxford, 1985. and Robert Emmet (the United Irish revolutionary executed in Dublin in 1803 for high treason).9For Emmet see Marianne Elliott, Robert Emmet: the making of a legend, Lon­don, 2003.

Edward O'Con­nor Terry, born 1844.
Edward O’Con­nor Terry. Source: National Portrait Gallery.
Locating and Mapping ‘Char­tist Children’

A legal requirement to register all births, deaths and marriages (in addition to traditional religious records of baptisms, marriages and burials) was introduced in Eng­land and Wales in mid 1837 as part of administrative reforms made by the Mel­bourne Whig government. This change and modern volunteer transcriptions of birth registration indexes held at the Gene­ral Rec­ord Office (GRO) have made it practicable to systematically identify and locate children who were named after popular political leaders in the Char­tist era. The interactive heatmap of ‘Char­tist children’ below is derived from a database of 838 children I’ve collated from transcribed birth registrations from Jan­uary 1840 to Dec­em­ber 1842 (a peak period in which this phenomenon occurred). Each entry refers to a child with clearly Char­tist-inspired forename(s) and the (quarterly) period and place of registration; note, however, that I’ve standardised the spellings of recognisably ‘Char­tist’ forenames for data presentation and analysis purposes.10For example, transcribed spellings such as ‘Fer­gus OConor’, ‘Firgus O’Conner’ and ‘Fargus O’Connor’ (some of which are likely to have been erroneously recorded or transcribed) have been converted to ‘Fear­gus O’Con­nor’ (which was how O’Con­nor spelt his name).

Char­tist Children Heatmap, 1840–42

Criteria For Inclusion as ‘Char­tist’

This section mainly will be of interest to those seeking to follow the process by which registered names have been deemed ‘Char­tist’. The main criterion for inclusion in the database is the use of the surname (or forename and surname) of a well-known radical/Char­tist leader in a child’s forename. Identifying these might seem relatively straightforward but it’s actually a subjective process and there will be some discrepancies between parents’ intent and my interpretation. However, as outlined below, this should be negligible due to precautions I’ve taken to exclude potentially ambiguous data. The basic process was fairly simple: I searched the FreeBDM database for prominent Char­tist leaders’ surnames registered as forenames—surnames such as O’Con­nor, Frost, Lov­ett and so forth. Note that because of spelling variations and transcription errors wildcard searches are necessary to achieve comprehensive results. It’s also necessary to check and eliminate numerous duplicates returned in the search process. However, this is fairly straightforward as photographic images of the original GRO index folios have been made available at the FreeBDM website for the years 1840–42.

While I’ve tried to identify as many ‘Char­tist children’ as possible I’ve also deliberately excluded two quite substantial categories of potentially ‘Char­tist’ names. The first applies to children named ‘Fear­gus’ (and its spelling variations) for males not having another forename signifying political intent (e.g. George Fear­gus Steward, one of the children discussed in the section below upon Nor­wich). Ostensibly, this might seem an obvious precaution but, using the first year of civil registrations (mid 1837–38) as a rough guide, Fear­gus (and its alternative spellings) was actually a very uncommon name given to children in Eng­land and Wales—just four instances are returned in a search for that particular year. As such, it seems reasonable to attribute the huge rise in children named Fear­gus from mid 1840 to O’Con­nor’s influence (see below for more on this point). However, without a further name signifying political intent (or other positive historical evidence, which does exist in George Stew­ard’s case), we’ll never really know on a case by case basis. Somewhat reluctantly, I’ve thus excluded about 200 or so children from the database despite most of them very likely being named for Fear­gus O’Con­nor.

Genealogists might point out that in the nineteenth century maternal family surnames sometimes were given to children as forenames; girls occasionally also were given male middle names. However, it would appear that O’Con­nor was not a particularly common surname in Eng­land and Wales in the early Char­tist era either. Birth registrations encompassing the 1840–1860 period (which I’ve quickly checked) do suggest that it became more prevalent in Eng­land in later years—presumably as a result of the Irish exodus spurred by the Great Famine. In the pre-famine era, on the other hand, I think I’m on reasonably safe ground by including all children given the surname ‘O’Con­nor’ as a forename—even with no other identifier of political intent.

The situation with children forenamed ‘Frost’ is different as it was a somewhat more common surname in Eng­land and Wales (and thus more likely to be used in a family-name-as-forename context). For this reason I’ve also excluded male and female birth registrations containing ‘Frost’ without another signifier of political intent. These precautions have reduced the 1840–42 database quite substantially—from about 1,250 to 838 entries. On the other hand, the number of non-politically inspired names surviving the filtering is likely to be quite small. Overall, while the database is not particularly large given its national scope, it’s arguably quite robust in terms of identifying political intent and allegiance from an unconventional primary source.

Geographic Distribution of Char­tist Children

As noted above, the database contains 838 entries that might reasonably be correlated to committed Char­tist support; as such, it gives a snapshot of the places where Char­tism was strong in its early years. I stress the word ‘snapshot’ and I don’t want push this evidence too far; nonetheless, the geographic distribution of children named after Char­tist leaders does follow some fairly well established historiographical themes pertaining to where Char­tism was strong and weak in the early 1840s.11See Dorothy Thompson, The Char­tists: popular politics in the industrial revolution, New York, 1984, pp. 61–62 for the areas of particular support in Eng­land and Wales. The mapped data is not weighted against local populations but it is still clear that support (at least on this fairly novel indicator of active Char­tist allegiance) was not as pronounced in Lon­don as it was in this period in Man­ches­ter, nearby textile towns or those in West York­shire (the northern heartland of Char­tism in the early 1840s). At a regional level, we can see the comparatively low level of Char­tist support in Liver­pool compared to other parts of Lanca­shire while a similar dichotomy is evident between York and the industrial communities of West York­shire. More broadly, the comparatively high level of support in the north and Midlands can be contrasted with the obvious weakness of Char­tism in the Home Coun­ties and rural Wales.

The movement was quite actively supported in coal mining and iron producing districts and at least sixteen children were named for Char­tist leaders in south Wales in 1840–42. However, these largely were restricted to Mer­thyr Tyd­fil and New­port. About 20 men were killed in the New­port Rising led by John Frost and, perhaps unsurprisingly, all the the six ‘Char­tist’ children registered at New­port where named for him (but one also for O’Con­nor). At the national level, we can make some very rough comparisons adjusted for population and the explicit use of Char­tist leaders’ names was significantly higher in Eng­land than Wales (by a factor of about three). Scot­land was not part of the Eng­lish civil registration system so it isn’t included in this mapped data. Nonetheless, there is other evidence that some Scot­tish children were named after Char­tist leaders in the early 1840s.12For example, children bearing O’Con­nor’s name were presented to him at Glas­gow when he visited the city in 1841, following his release from prison. See Northern Star, 16 October 1841, p. 4.

John Frost. Source: State Library of Tas­mania.
Incidence and Timing

As shown in the first chart below, Fear­gus O’Con­nor was easily the most popular Char­tist leader honoured in this manner. Note that due to the cautious interpretation of recognisably ‘Char­tist’ names I’ve followed when collating the database, the actual number of children named for O’Con­nor and Frost in 1840–42 was likely somewhat higher than these figures suggest. We should also not forget that John Frost was viewed by the state (and many non-Char­tists) as a convicted traitor, emphasising the contestatory and provocative nature of the Char­tist christenings. These issues will be discussed further in Section II below but first a few more gene­ral themes deserve comment.

Chart showing number of children named after Char­tist leaders in 1840-42.
Number of registered names referring to Radical-Char­tist leaders, 1840–42 (multiple names per registration common).
Chart showing increase in children named after Char­tist leaders in the early 1840s
Number of ‘Char­tist’ birth registrations per quarter, 1840-42.

As the second chart above demonstrates, there was a large jump in children named for radical political leaders from the second half of 1840. This juncture is interesting as in early July 1840 O’Con­nor called upon Char­tists to name children after him in direct response to the legal repression undertaken by the Whig government: ‘let every man sing my Char­ter song’, he wrote from prison in an open letter published in the Northern Star, ‘and call every child, whether boy or girl, that shall be born to you this year, Fear­gus, that we may keep a record of Whig villainy’.13Northern Star, 11 July 1840, p. 7. Clearly, many followed this exhortation.

Some children were given multiple politically-inspired names—including some extravagant examples such as Fear­gus O’Con­nor Frost O’Brien McDouall Hunt TAYLER and Fanny Amelia Lucy Ann Rebecca Frost O’Con­nor McDouall Leach Hol­berry Duffy Oas­tler Hill BODEN (no less than seven Char­tists were honoured in her name, in addition to the ‘Tory Rad­ical’ Richard Oas­tler!). Young Fear­gus Tayler (also Tay­lor) was given a prominent place on horseback in the celebratory mass procession held at Man­ches­ter in 1841 following O’Con­nor’s release from York Castle gaol (according to the Man­ches­ter Guardian, he ‘cried bitterly’ during proceedings).14Northern Star, 2 October 1841, p. 6; Man­ches­ter Guardian reprinted in Examiner, 2 October 1841. Fear­gus Tayler was born to Martha and George Tayler, a shoemaker, on 20 March 1840. Northern Star, 29 August 1840, p. 1. As O’Con­nor’s 1840 plea and Fanny Boden’s example intimate, another fascinating aspect of the political christenings was the large number of girls given male political fore and surnames as a middle name. In fact, girls make up over 30% of the database. All this evidence tends to emphasise the extent of O’Con­nor’s influence in the early 1840s; it also suggests that naming your child after a political hero was understood by Char­tists as an important political act not to be undone by the vagaries of nature.

Part II: A Nor­wich Case Study

Having established some gene­ral characteristics, we can also look at the political christening phenomenon at a micro-historical level by briefly examining a group of Char­tists, likely impoverished, resident at New Cat­ton in the parish of Sprow­ston, a little to the north of Nor­wich’s traditional city boundaries. As the epigram at the head of the paper intimates, in 1841 the Stew­ard family were caught up in a public conflict with their Anglican curate at Sprow­ston over their choice of naming an infant girl after Fear­gus O’Con­nor. Census data from the same year reveals that the extended Stew­ard family lived among a community of handloom weavers (a trade which, at the national level, was depressed and particularly associated with Char­tist allegiance).15Thompson, The Char­tists, pp. 106–12 and elsewhere. The census also reveals that that some of the Stewards’ neighbours had christened their children in a similar manner. In order to do this subject justice, Char­tist attitudes to (and conflicts with) the established Church first need to be outlined.

Char­tism and the Anglican Church

It’s sometimes forgotten that Char­tism came to prominence at a time of almost millenarian political fervour in Britain.16See Eileen Yeo, ‘Christianity in Char­tist struggle’, Past and Present, 91, 1981, especially section II. For a rather dated but still useful source see also Harold Underwood Faulkner, Char­tism and the churches [1916], Lon­don, 1970. In gene­ral, Char­tists viewed the Anglican church in much the same way as parliament: both were seen as undemocratic, corrupt and unresponsive to the needs of the people. While Char­tists were also often at loggerheads with the Wes­leyan/Non­con­form­ist establishment, some cooperation took place with working-class orientated Prim­itive Meth­odists.17Yeo, ‘Christianity and Char­tist struggle’, pp. 116–18. During the 1840s, a number of independent Char­tist churches formed in order to bypass traditional religious institutions altogether.18Yeo, ‘Christianity in Char­tist struggle’, pp. 138–39. From 1839, working-class radicals also resorted to direct action by invading Ang­lican church services en masse, occupying private pews and demanding that priests preach from preferred biblical texts (see the image below).19See Yeo, ‘Christianity and Char­tist struggle’, section III.

Embed from Getty Images

Although heckling was recorded at Nor­wich and irreverent behaviour elsewhere (the wearing of working apparel/hats, smoking, supposed sleeping etc), the church protests of 1839 gene­rally were peaceable; however, at Sheffield—which was verging upon insurrection—repeated invasions over a period of a month or so led to bans, rioting and many arrests.20Yeo, ‘Christianity and Chartist struggle’, pp. 129–30. Conservative clerics such as Francis Close of Chel­ten­ham also fought back from the pulpit, denouncing the protests of the poor in the strongest terms.21For Close see Owen Ashton, ‘Clerical control and radical responses in Cheltenham Spa, 1838–48’, Midland History, 8, 1983, pp. 121–47. As this penny pamphlet version of Close’s sermon indicates, he was particularly incensed when Char­tist women at Chel­ten­ham organised their own church visit in August 1839.22F. Close, The female Char­tists’ visit to the parish church … August 25, 1839, Edinburgh, 1840; Yeo, ‘Christianity and Char­tist struggle’, p. 135. The political christenings that blossomed about a year later were another potential cause of dispute between establishment clergy and working-class radicals. In 1841, a young woman named Char­lotte Stew­ard found herself at odds with Henry Ban­father, curate at St Mary and St Margaret’s Church, Sprow­ston (its location is marked in green on the map in the next section), over the name chosen for her daughter Hannah—one of the 20 or so children from the Nor­wich area included in the national database/map. The political christening phenomenon often was given brief notice in O’Con­nor’s Northern Star and in this case we are fortunate that an argument that took place over the baptismal font was recorded for posterity.

Hannah Steward’s Christening at Sprow­ston, 1841
St Mary and St Margaret's Church, Sprowston, 2009.
St Mary and St Margaret’s Church, Sprowston. Photo © Adrian S Pye (cc-by-sa/2.0).

Henry Ban­father appears to have attended Pembroke Hall at Cam­bridge and was appointed to the curacy at Sprow­ston in 1818; in 1823, he was made Head­mas­ter at Nor­wich Gram­mar School, a position he held until 1849.23Bury and Nor­wich Post, 2 December 1818; 25 December 1823; 5 September 1849. Given his position at the heart of the local religious establishment, it is unlikely Ban­father had much sympathy for Char­tism (and certainly not irreligious, libertine-like demagogues such as Fear­gus O’Con­nor). On the contrary, he appeared astonished at the Stew­ards’ choice of name:

The Rev. Gentleman said—Is Fear­gus O’Con­nor so endeared to you, that you must have this child named after him? [Charlotte Steward replied] Yes, Sir, and not only to me, but to thousands. And does the father like Fear­gus O’Con­nor? Certainly he does. And is Fear­gus O’Con­nor superior to the Bible? I do not know what you mean. I say, is Fear­gus O’Con­nor superior to the Bible? I do not know what the name of Fear­gus O’Con­nor has to do with the Bible. Then I shall not name your child. That you can do as you please about; but if you do not, there are others that will. I suppose, Sir, we may name our children as we like? I do not know that you may; I think if you refer to the Bible you would not have this child named Fear­gus O’Con­nor. With these words he took up his book, and said with a sneer, ‘Hannah Fear­gus O’Con­nor,’ &c.24Northern Star, 1 May 1841, p. 6. Punctuation follows original.

Of course, Char­tists commonly appealed to the Bible to sanction their claims about political and social justice: ‘The Bible is my Char­tist manual’, declared the Leeds radical T.B. Smith.25English Char­tist Circular, Vol. 1, 1841–42, p. 117. It’s not clear whether the Stew­ards attended Ban­father’s services regularly but Char­lotte was then aged about 20; when she married John Stew­ard at the same church in April 1837 neither bride or groom appear to have been been able to sign their names.26Freereg Marriage Register transcription, St Mary and St Mar­garet’s, Sprow­ston, marriage of Charlotte Nobbs and John Steward, 2 April 1837, register number 160. Charlotte’s apparent illiteracy makes her defiance all the more interesting as it took place in the midst of a cycle-of-life ceremony performed by a highly educated authority figure. Her stand also intimates how women could enunciate Chartist allegiance in active (and quite daring) ways that historians prior to the 1980s tended to ignore.

The Stewards and Their Neighbours

This final section is very much provisional as I’ve only had the opportunity to look at online genealogical transcriptions rather than full birth, death and marriage registration records. Nonetheless, cross referencing the former with 1841 census data reveals some interesting results. Han­nah’s Stew­ard’s baptismal record shows that her father John was a weaver.27Freereg Baptism Register transcription, St Mary and St Margaret’s, Sprow­ston, Hannah Fear­gus O’Con­nor Steward, 4 April 1841, register number 4. Silk and cotton weaving had a considerable history in Nor­wich and independent handloom weavers (whose livelihoods and whole way of life increasingly was being challenged by factory production) contributed to the city’s radical and religious dissent traditions.28See gene­rally J.K. Edwards, ‘Char­tism in Nor­wich’, Bulletin of Economic Research, Vol. 19, 2, 1967, pp. 85–100. The June 1841 census indicates that John (aged 25), Char­lotte (aged 20) and baby Han­nah lived at Pearse’s buildings in New Cat­ton (the buildings extant in 1841 don’t seem evident on later nineteenth-century maps that I’ve been able to consult to date but the gene­ral location seems to have become known as Pearse’s [or Pearce’s] Fields, now subject to suburban development and denoted by the black marker in the map below [a modern street, Pearcefield, retains the name]).29Census records, Eng­land, Pearse’s Buildings, Parish of Sprow­ston, Norfolk, 6 June 1841, Home Office Piece Number 107/783/17, Enumeration Schedule 13, pp. 16–19.

On census day in 1841 94 people lived in 21 dwellings/rooms at Pearse’s buildings and about two thirds of the males over 15 years were weavers.301841 Census records, Pearse’s Build­ings, pp. 16–19. Identified weavers included John Stew­ard’s parents Moses (aged 60) and Mary (45) as well as John’s younger brother James (aged 20).311841 Census records, Pearse’s Buildings, pp. 16–19. James Stew­ard and his wife Eliz­a­beth (aged 25) then had a new-born child named George: he too was baptised by Henry Ban­father and he too appears to have been named for Fear­gus O’Con­nor (see below for more on this point).32Freereg Baptism Register transcription, St Mary and St Margaret’s, Sprow­ston, George Fear­gus Steward, 20 June 1841, register entry 11. Similarly, a neighbouring weaver named Thomas Cubitt (aged 35) and his wife Sarah (40) named their newborn daughter Eliz­abeth O’Con­nor.331841 Census records, Pearse’s Buildings, pp. 16–19. At present I’m relying on Elizabeth’s birth registration index entry for evidence of her middle name which means I’m not absolutely certain of her parents’ identity (which needs to be confirmed by consulting her full birth registration). Eliz­abeth Cubitt does not appear to have been baptised in the Church of Eng­land but yet another couple living in Pearse’s buildings, weaver Thomas Hardy and his wife Hes­ter (both aged 25), had in 1839 named their boy after the Lanca­shire nonconformist preacher, anti-poor law and factory reform activist Joseph Ray­ner Ste­phens.341841 Census records, Pearse’s Buildings, pp. 16–19. Like Fear­gus O’Con­nor, Ste­phens was a particularly effective public speaker who became associated with militant physical-force Char­tism. Unlike O’Con­nor, Ste­phens was essentially a Tory who opposed democratic parliamentary reform and who, in late 1839, denounced the movement (somewhat ironically, during his trial for Char­tist-related protest, for which he was sentenced to imprisonment for 18 months).35For Stephens see Michael S. Edwards, Purge this realm: a life of Joseph Rayner Stephens, Lon­don, 1994.

Portrait of Joseph Rayner Stephens c. late 1830s
Joseph Rayner Stephens (centre). Source: National Portrait Gallery.

Arrested Char­tist leaders were expected to act in a heroic manner at their trials and Stephens’ disavowal of the movement led to him being denounced by the O’Con­norite rank and file as an arch traitor.36Yeo, ‘Christianity in Char­tist struggle’, pp. 114–16; Thomas Cooper, The life of Thomas Cooper, Lon­don, 1872, pp. 156–58. Given this turn of events, it’s possible that Thomas and Hes­ter Hardy came to regret their choice of name for their son. More tragically, Han­nah Stew­ard died a young child in the winter of 1844–45.37Freereg Burial Register transcription, St Mary and St Margaret’s, Sprow­ston, Hannah Fer­gus O’Con­nor Steward, 9 February 1845, register entry 420. Nonetheless, at the time of the 1841 census four of the ten infant children living at Pearse’s buildings at New Sprow­ston were named for Char­tist leaders. Such a prevalence of political christenings in this micro-historical context is quite surprising—but it’s also obviously a miniscule sample. It should be noted that Han­nah Steward and Eliz­a­beth Cub­itt are included in the mapped database but George Stew­ard and Ray­ner Hardy are not. This is because Ray­ner Hardy was born prior to 1840 while, as explained earlier, children named Fear­gus without another forename signifying Char­tist allegiance have been excluded from the database to help ensure accuracy.

Nevertheless, other evidence points to George’s father’s James’s strong Char­tist beliefs—and the likelihood that George was named for Fear­gus O’Con­nor. James’ great-grandson Bert­ram Stew­ard (1897–1993), a journalist, farmer and World War I veteran, stated in his autobiography that James kept a portrait of O’Con­nor prominently situated in the upstairs room where he worked his handloom.38Bertram Steward, One journey: the story of a Suffolk farmer, 1981. The portrait possibly was the one reproduced near the head of this essay, which was distributed to Char­tists throughout Britain as a supplement to the Northern Star newspaper soon after it began publication in late 1837 (another portrait made while O’Con­nor was imprisoned at York Castle was sold with the paper in 1841).39Northern Star, 6 March 1841, p. 5. Unlike the stereotypical English primary producer, Bert­ram Stew­ard was a committed pacifist, nuclear disarmament (CND) campaigner and socialist, echoing parallels with his Char­tist ancestors a century or so earlier.40Steward, The story of a Suffolk farmer.

Dorothy Thompson’s research indicates that over 6,500 people signed the 1839 Char­tist Nat­ional Petition at Nor­wich and in 1842 about 300 residents were members of Nat­ional Char­ter Association established in 1840.41Thompson, The Char­tists, p. 361. These figures are based on summary numerical returns published in the Nor­thern Star which did not gene­rally record members’ names. However, it’s likely that some of the men and women living at Pearse’s buildings participated in the controversial Char­tist protest that took place at the consecration of nearby Christ Church, New Cat­ton, in Nov­em­ber 1841 (see the map above). While there were obvious parallels with the spate of church invasions of 1839, this militant and noisy demonstration degenerated into a minor riot after a group of about 300 Char­tists (replete with a band) were prevented by police from entering Christ Church in a massed body during the service; in the aftermath, a number were fined while their leader, Thomas Hew­ett, in early 1842 was sentenced to imprisonment for two months.42Norfolk Chronicle, 20 November 1841, p. 3.

Concluding Remarks

Despite all that has been written upon Char­tism, it’s likely that many committed rank and file adherents will never be identified as such. Parish marriage records indicate that Char­lotte, John, James and Eliz­a­beth Stew­ard were all illiterate in the late 1830s and few illiterate working people from this era left much evidence of their political beliefs. However, the mapped database of children named for radical leaders does provide some new and unconventional evidence of the geography of Char­tist allegiance in the early 1840s. The symbolic act of naming children after radical heroes—including men convicted of treason such as John Frost—clearly was not something done lightly. Rather, it was an act of political and cultural defiance and affirmation. In essence, Char­tists wanted all men to have the vote: they sincerely believed that endemic poverty would be alleviated by this democratic reform. Being excluded from the formal political nation, symbolic acts such as the naming of children after gaoled or transported leaders gave working-class radicals a heightened sense of political agency. As one anonymous Char­tist commented in August 1840: ‘If our Gov­er­nors were wise, they would learn something from these small things’.43Northern Star, 29 August 1840, p. 5.

Finally, I should re-emphasise that this investigation (particularly Part II) is very much preliminary: transcribed sources need to be checked and the local area study presently is limited to a few families who lived at close quarters at Nor­wich. Similarly, my account of the national context only touches upon the situation apparent in the early 1840s. The latter point is actually quite important as there is intriguing evidence that the political christening phenomenon may well have been inter-generational as far as the Stew­ard family is concerned: for example, a boy of that surname registered in Nor­wich in 1864 was forenamed Fer­gus while another boy registered in 1882 was named Fear­gus O’Con­nor. Whether these children were descendants of Moses and Mary Stew­ard—and whether they were named for O’Con­nor or an older relative christened after O’Con­nor—remain to be teased out.

© 2018, Andrew Messner. All rights reserved.

Endnotes
  • 1
    Northern Star, 1 May 1841, p. 6.
  • 2
    David Jones, Char­tism and the Char­tists, Lon­don, 1975, p. 24; Jutta Schwarzkopf, Women in the Char­tist movement, Basingstoke, 1991, p. 124.
  • 3
    For O’Con­nor see below. For Frost see David Wil­liams, John Frost: a study in Char­tism, Cardiff, 1939. For a gene­ral history of the movement see Malcolm Chase’s Char­tism: a new history, Man­ches­ter, 2007.
  • 4
    For New­port see David Jones, The last rising: the New­port insurrection of 1839, Oxford, 1985.
  • 5
    The Halifax Chartist Ben Wil­son made this point in his autobiography. See ‘The struggles of an old Char­tist …’ in David Vincent, ed., Testaments of radicalism: memoirs of working class politicians, Lon­don, 1970, p. 222. For O’Con­nor see Donald Read and Eric Glasgow, Fear­gus O’Con­nor: Irishman and Char­tist, Lon­don, 1961; James Epstein, The lion of freedom: Fear­gus O’Con­nor and the Char­tist movement, 1832–42, Lon­don, 1982; Glenn Airey, ‘Fear­gus O’Con­nor 1842–1855: a study in Char­tist Leadership’, PhD thesis, Staffordshire University, 2003; Paul A. Pickering, Fear­gus O’Con­nor: a political life, Lon­don, 2008.
  • 6
    Read and Glasgow, Fear­gus O’Con­nor, p. 142.
  • 7
    For O’Brien see Michael J. Turner, Radicalism and reputation: the career of Bronterre O’Brien, East Lansing, 2017.
  • 8
    For Hunt see John Belchem, ‘Orator Hunt’: Henry Hunt and English working class radicalism, Oxford, 1985.
  • 9
    For Emmet see Marianne Elliott, Robert Emmet: the making of a legend, Lon­don, 2003.
  • 10
    For example, transcribed spellings such as ‘Fer­gus OConor’, ‘Firgus O’Conner’ and ‘Fargus O’Connor’ (some of which are likely to have been erroneously recorded or transcribed) have been converted to ‘Fear­gus O’Con­nor’ (which was how O’Con­nor spelt his name).
  • 11
    See Dorothy Thompson, The Char­tists: popular politics in the industrial revolution, New York, 1984, pp. 61–62 for the areas of particular support in Eng­land and Wales.
  • 12
    For example, children bearing O’Con­nor’s name were presented to him at Glas­gow when he visited the city in 1841, following his release from prison. See Northern Star, 16 October 1841, p. 4.
  • 13
    Northern Star, 11 July 1840, p. 7.
  • 14
    Northern Star, 2 October 1841, p. 6; Man­ches­ter Guardian reprinted in Examiner, 2 October 1841. Fear­gus Tayler was born to Martha and George Tayler, a shoemaker, on 20 March 1840. Northern Star, 29 August 1840, p. 1.
  • 15
    Thompson, The Char­tists, pp. 106–12 and elsewhere.
  • 16
    See Eileen Yeo, ‘Christianity in Char­tist struggle’, Past and Present, 91, 1981, especially section II. For a rather dated but still useful source see also Harold Underwood Faulkner, Char­tism and the churches [1916], Lon­don, 1970.
  • 17
    Yeo, ‘Christianity and Char­tist struggle’, pp. 116–18.
  • 18
    Yeo, ‘Christianity in Char­tist struggle’, pp. 138–39.
  • 19
    See Yeo, ‘Christianity and Char­tist struggle’, section III.
  • 20
    Yeo, ‘Christianity and Chartist struggle’, pp. 129–30.
  • 21
    For Close see Owen Ashton, ‘Clerical control and radical responses in Cheltenham Spa, 1838–48’, Midland History, 8, 1983, pp. 121–47.
  • 22
    F. Close, The female Char­tists’ visit to the parish church … August 25, 1839, Edinburgh, 1840; Yeo, ‘Christianity and Char­tist struggle’, p. 135.
  • 23
    Bury and Nor­wich Post, 2 December 1818; 25 December 1823; 5 September 1849.
  • 24
    Northern Star, 1 May 1841, p. 6. Punctuation follows original.
  • 25
    English Char­tist Circular, Vol. 1, 1841–42, p. 117.
  • 26
    Freereg Marriage Register transcription, St Mary and St Mar­garet’s, Sprow­ston, marriage of Charlotte Nobbs and John Steward, 2 April 1837, register number 160.
  • 27
    Freereg Baptism Register transcription, St Mary and St Margaret’s, Sprow­ston, Hannah Fear­gus O’Con­nor Steward, 4 April 1841, register number 4.
  • 28
    See gene­rally J.K. Edwards, ‘Char­tism in Nor­wich’, Bulletin of Economic Research, Vol. 19, 2, 1967, pp. 85–100.
  • 29
    Census records, Eng­land, Pearse’s Buildings, Parish of Sprow­ston, Norfolk, 6 June 1841, Home Office Piece Number 107/783/17, Enumeration Schedule 13, pp. 16–19.
  • 30
    1841 Census records, Pearse’s Build­ings, pp. 16–19.
  • 31
    1841 Census records, Pearse’s Buildings, pp. 16–19.
  • 32
    Freereg Baptism Register transcription, St Mary and St Margaret’s, Sprow­ston, George Fear­gus Steward, 20 June 1841, register entry 11.
  • 33
    1841 Census records, Pearse’s Buildings, pp. 16–19. At present I’m relying on Elizabeth’s birth registration index entry for evidence of her middle name which means I’m not absolutely certain of her parents’ identity (which needs to be confirmed by consulting her full birth registration).
  • 34
    1841 Census records, Pearse’s Buildings, pp. 16–19.
  • 35
    For Stephens see Michael S. Edwards, Purge this realm: a life of Joseph Rayner Stephens, Lon­don, 1994.
  • 36
    Yeo, ‘Christianity in Char­tist struggle’, pp. 114–16; Thomas Cooper, The life of Thomas Cooper, Lon­don, 1872, pp. 156–58.
  • 37
    Freereg Burial Register transcription, St Mary and St Margaret’s, Sprow­ston, Hannah Fer­gus O’Con­nor Steward, 9 February 1845, register entry 420.
  • 38
    Bertram Steward, One journey: the story of a Suffolk farmer, 1981.
  • 39
    Northern Star, 6 March 1841, p. 5.
  • 40
    Steward, The story of a Suffolk farmer.
  • 41
    Thompson, The Char­tists, p. 361.
  • 42
    Norfolk Chronicle, 20 November 1841, p. 3.
  • 43
    Northern Star, 29 August 1840, p. 5.