Nicola Rippon takes a detailed look at the 1841 Census. Here, she concentrates on the people and buildings making up Derby’s town centre.

GRAND houses where wealthy families presided over their property, a strong merchant class of shopkeepers and manufacturers and dozens of cramped courts where the working class struggled to survive, the 1841 Census reveals a fascinating account of life in Derby during the first half of the 19th century.

The concept of a nationwide census was nothing new. The Egyptians, Chinese and Babylonians all collected information from their citizens. And Christians believe that the census ordered by Roman emperor Caesar Augustus 2,000 years ago, led Mary and Joseph of Nazareth to Bethlehem where Jesus Christ was born.

Closer to home, the Scots took an extensive census in the 7th century and the most famous census in English history, William the Conqueror’s Domesday Book, completed in 1086, took account of more than 13,000 settlements, Derby included.

However, the census of 1841 was the first truly significant survey of the entire British population and was the first to provide detailed information about individuals, regardless of age, nationality and relative wealth.

In fact, 10-yearly national censuses had been taking place since March 1801, when the government became concerned that the rising population might outstrip the country’s supply of food.

Compiled by local dignitaries, landowners, clergymen and the governors of penal and welfare institutions, it asked five simple questions relating to the number of parishioners, their accommodation, employment and baptisms, burials and marriages. It counted 10 million people living in some two million households.

Significantly, in 1841, each household was given its own census form to complete and some 35,000 official enumerators were assigned the task of collecting and collating the information.

However, the 1841 Census had limitations. Universal education had yet to pass into law and many people could not read or write. Thus, some census information was incomplete or inaccurate.

Compared to later censuses, the questions asked of each household were also unsophisticated; yet the results still provide a useful and fascinating account of the life of Britain on one particular summer’s evening some 165 years ago.

The census recorded the full names, sex, age (often rounded up or down) and occupation of each individual and whether or not they were native to their county of residence.

Since the census recorded the whereabouts of individuals on a specific night, travellers or visitors staying with friends and family were listed within that household. Missing is the relative relationship of each individual to the head of the household, so that it might be unclear whether a man lived with his wife, mother, sister or sister-in-law.

Nevertheless, the census painted a more or less accurate picture of life in Britain on the night of June 6-7, 1841.

In Derbyshire, some 46.3 per cent of the working population, slightly higher than the national average, were employed in commerce, trade and manufacturing.

This is not surprising, given the large number of mills and factories that had sprung up in the county in the previous century. The number of those considered as being of “independent means” was slightly lower than the average but, in Derbyshire, only 0.6 per cent of the overall population were considered alms people, pensioners, paupers, lunatics and prisoners. The national figure was almost twice that.

The census also does much to provide a picture of the townscape of Derby itself. Much of the town we recognise today had yet to be built, or at least work was only just under way.

An untidy network of streets, many with courts running between them, is now long gone. But, in 1841, for instance, rebuilding and street widening had yet to be done in Iron Gate and Brook Side had only recently been transformed into Victoria Street with the culverting of Markeaton Brook.

Yet many other streets have changed little, in either their appearance or their role within the town. St Peter’s Street is a particular example. In 1841, as now, it was the main artery of the town centre and was very much a business street. But rather than the high street chain stores of our time, each business was locally and independently owned.

At the foot of the street stood St Peter’s Bridge, which had been rebuilt during the culverting of Markeaton Brook.

Here, where the HSBC Bank now stands, was Thorntree House, the Derby home of the elderly Joseph Strutt, one of the town’s greatest entrepreneurs and philanthropists.

The house was not specifically identified on the census return, nor did Strutt himself appear, but a contemporary town directory lists Joseph Strutt as living there.

However, by this time Strutt had opened his home to the Derby public so that they might see his art treasures and archaeological oddities.

Curiously, at Belper, one Jedediah Strutt, cotton manufacturer and magistrate, aged 55, was listed. This was not Joseph’s father – he had died many years earlier – but was presumably a younger member of the dynasty.

Joseph’s unmarried sisters, Elizabeth and Ann, were listed on the census in Derby, living at Derwent Bank on Duffield Road with one male and six female servants.

The first residence listed on St Peter’s Street was that of 35-year-old surgeon, Charles Borough, and his wife, Penelope, who lived there with their three daughters, Penelope, Mary and Lucy, Borough’s apprentice, 19-year-old William Smith, and three female servants.

Nearby was a long, narrow alleyway leading to the Nag’s Head Inn, which was run by Henry and Elizabeth Cantrell.

The former coaching inn was very full on the night of the census. Residing there with the inn’s staff were an unnamed draper; 50-year-old Rebecca Lamb, of “independent means”; George Pettitt, a 60 year old factor (manufacturer); a glass dealer; several labourers; and an unnamed traveller (travelling salesman).

In the yard, at the rear of the inn, were several properties, two of which were occupied by Thomas Mason, a driver of a fly (a one-horse two-wheeled light carriage) and John Wallis, an ostler, in whose home five-year-old Mary Cantrell was staying overnight. Perhaps Wallis’ wife, Ann, was her babysitter for the evening.

Further along St Peter’s Street were the homes and businesses of ironmongers, coopers, jewellers, haberdashers, shoemakers, hawkers (or street sellers), grocers, and bakers like Joseph Osborn, butchers like John Hodgkinson and, of course, several more taverns.

Here, too, lived surgeon Thomas Harwood and his son, who was his assistant; 30-year-old police officer George Hardy; Wesleyan minister Samuel Brocksop, who had connections with King Street Chapel; hairdresser Sam Blundstone; and even two military men, soldier Thomas Verey and James Rickards, a sergeant in the Royal Marines.

Several solicitors like John Moss, who worked for the Derby and Derbyshire Bank Company, and William Whiston and his son, Henry, an articled clerk, also resided in the neighbourhood.

At the Grammar School, the Rev William Fletcher, aged 30, presided over Frederick Rowell, his assistant, and 13 pupils between the ages of eight and 15, whose surnames included those of several prominent Derbyshire families; Henry Gell, Edward Heathcote, William Radford among them. One male and four female servants also lived at the school in St Peter’s Street.

In one household near the school lived William Williamson, a 50-year-old framework knitter, his wife, Elizabeth, who was a dressmaker, son James, an apprentice upholsterer, and several others, including Jervis Bancroft, a blacksmith.

This was typical of mid-19th-century Derby. Several families might occupy even the smallest properties. Neighbours here included laundresses, seamstresses and whitesmiths.

Running from St Peter’s Street towards the Morledge, Thorntree Lane is now little more than a pedestrian shortcut and service road but, in 1841, it was a thriving community, lined with tightly-packed homes and businesses.

One of the town’s most ancient streets, it was once an important trackway across the countryside and, to this day, retains many of its 19th-century cobbles.

Between this street and the parallel Bag Lane, now East Street, lay many courts, each one a microcosm of working-class Derby life.

On Thorntree Lane lived people like 40-year-old blacksmith Andrew Miller and 67-year-old Mary Cooper, described on the census as a plumber. Her son, William, was also a plumber and his brother, Joseph, a joiner.

Typically for this part of the town, many silk workers and laceworkers were in evidence. But even here there were local shops, with a coal merchant, a fishmonger and a confectioner, along with several washerwomen. There was also a local tavern, the Thorntree Inn.

Perhaps one of the most interesting residents of Thorntree Lane was Thomas Deacon, a boatbuilder, who lived in Court No 1. It is likely his work was connected to the many businesses that used the Derwent and the Derby Canal.

His neighbours included James Robinson, a soap boiler, and John Johnston, a sugar boiler.

Bag Lane was very narrow and tightly packed with poor housing, its name is even thought to have derived from “beggar lane”. Here there were many more silk workers as well as framework knitters, millworkers and labourers, and shops like that of butcher Joshua Wheeldon.

Living at the house of engineer George Mirfin and his wife, Hannah, were his two children, Emma, aged nine, who worked in a mill, and son, George, 15, who was an errand boy.

The proximity of the Derwent, in particular the point at which Markeaton Brook flowed into it and Derby Canal crossed it, gave the Morledge a traditionally wharf-like role.

But here, too, were countless small businesses and shops and even a bookshop and a cattle dealer.

Doubtless popular with locals and visitors alike were pubs like David Harrison’s the Old Crown Inn and the Bird-in-Hand Inn, run by Richard Carrington.

Another long-established Derby street is the Cornmarket. In 1841, it was home to many businesses, like the bakery owned by George Rowbottom, side-by-side with the workshops of artisans like Samuel Smith and his two sons, all of whom were whitesmiths.

Thomas Williamson, a working jeweller, lived with his wife, Elizabeth, and children John, Martha, Maria, Elizabeth, Ellen and Mary.

Also in the Williamson household on that night was John Hill, described as a “Burton Post”, who may have been employed by a mail carrier; Robert Draper, perhaps unsurprisingly a draper; William Hanson, a civil engineer; and 25-year-old Ann Huysen, for whom no occupation is listed.

Next door was John Williamson, perhaps another family member and a tea dealer; Edward Clarke, a shopman; and a female servant.

Henry Moseley, a carver and gilder, and his family and two servants and guests lived next door to William Lomax, who provided a vital service to any working class community – he was a pawnbroker.

In the yard at the back of his premises lived John Gepson, a porter, his wife Elizabeth, an upholsterer, and their family.

Here too were the households of William Willisford, a cork cutter; Gilbert Dallison, a butcher; Edward Hellaby, a linen draper; and John Trusswell, a cheese factor.

A number of courts stood behind the Cornmarket, with largely working class people resident there, like John Harrison and his family, all of whom worked in textile mills.

Where Marks and Spencer now stands was once the Angel Inn, run in 1841 by publican John Reeves, and the house occupied by Henry Perkins, perfumer, his wife, Elizabeth, and daughter, Julia.

One servant, Harriet Hanes, and surveyor James Egan also lived there.

Iron Gate was once a narrow winding street with a mixture of Georgian and timbered buildings, some of which were reminiscent of the historic districts of York or Chester and had an upper floor which overhung the street below.

In later years, many of these ancient houses were removed so that the street could be widened, although the general line of the street has been preserved. A mixture of homes and shops lined both sides of the busy thoroughfare.

Grocer Thomas Bailey, confectioner James Brentnall, chemist John Rawson and seedsman John Palmer all lived on Iron Gate. Pork butcher Frederick Kramer and his assistant, Charles Meper, also traded there.

The census describes both as coming from “foreign parts”. Records elsewhere suggest that Kramer was German. Other businesses recorded by the census were those of stationer, printer and owner of a circulation library William Hobson, and the confectionery and tea business of Matthias Eggleston.

Again, several courts ran off Iron Gate. Typical of these was the George Yard, which stood behind the former George Inn, by now known as the Globe. Here, dyers, coachmen, grooms and silk workers lived cheek-by-jowl with pedlars and butchers.

The Globe was just one of several taverns on Iron Gate. The Talbot Inn stood on the west side, where licensee Joseph Glue resided. Frustratingly, the names and occupations of his eight guests were unrecorded.

Ultimately, the inn would be demolished to make way for the building of a bank. Ironically, in recent years, this same bank was transformed into the Standing Order pub.

• Derbyshire: When rich and poor lived cheek-by-jowl
• When rich and poor lived cheek-by-jowl

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