THE CENSUS 1821
The third UK census saw the inclusion of Ireland for the first time, and greater demands placed on the enumerators. Jad Adams reveals how they managed
For the first time in 1821, Ireland was included in the census. Early attempts to conduct a census there had failed because the process relied on superintendents of the Poor
Law or schoolmasters to enumerate the population. Ireland had suffered from wretchedly bad administration; there were no overseers of the poor, and few schoolmasters.
After several attempts at enumeration, in order to conduct
‘Ireland had been part of the UK only since 1801, and was a largely hostile country’
the 1821 census, the authorities resorted to the law and Ireland’s boards of magistrates were delegated to appoint enumerators; they appointed policemen. However, this was not a happy situation: magistrates were political appointees, and police officers were mistrusted.
Ireland had been part of the UK only since 1801, and was a largely hostile country. A Protestant minority ruled with laws that assured their ascendancy. Catholics could vote (if otherwise qualified) but could not sit in parliament or hold important civil, judicial or administrative offices under the Crown, or take degrees at Oxford, Cambridge or Durham. This was the case in the whole of the UK, although these restrictive laws were a particular imposition in Ireland where Catholics were in a majority. The more able Catholics, who might have
been encouraged to build up their nation, instead emigrated to places where careers were open to them or became priests.
The population was mainly made up of tenant farmers, with little incentive to improve their land which was owned by absentee landlords. Agriculture was too reliant on the single crop of potatoes, which failed periodically.
The law was biased against the tenant, so lawlessness became the norm, and was even considered admirable. Most of the population did not respect the UK Government. It was not an easy place to be a census-taker.
Solving The Irish Mystery
William Shaw Mason, an Irish statistician, had laboured for years on the question of the population of Ireland as secretary to the Commissioners of Public Records. People like Mason who wished to improve the country needed to know more about it. Mason’s long experience taught him to tread gently among the sensitivities of the Irish population. He circumvented a hostility to the enumerators by contacting Protestant and Catholic clergymen and asking for their help. It was therefore under the protection of both Churches that the census was undertaken. Whenever there was a problem, Mason would have a personal letter sent to the clergymen of the district “so as to turn the current of public opinion immediately and completely into the channel most desirable”. The clergymen therefore were given the right to act as conciliators between the police and the population. This pleased the clergy and mollified the police, who were prepared to accept divine authority.
As if to make up for previous ignorance of the population, the census forms in Ireland recorded more details than were requested elsewhere in the British Isles. The returns asked the names, ages and occupations of everyone; their relationship to the head of the household; and such details as the number of storeys in their homes.
The operation found the number of people in Ireland to be 6,801,827. The population was 80–90 per cent rural, or composed of small traders. The population of the largest city, Dublin, was below 250,000.
Lost To The Flames
The Irish census returns were burned during a fire at the Public Record Office in Dublin in 1922. Some had already been transcribed, however, and these copies are in the National Archives of Ireland, as are the returns that survived the fire.
This first census of the whole of the British Isles showed England had 11,261,437 people, Scotland 2,093,456 and Wales 717,108. The population of Britain had increased by 16–17 per cent since the 1811 census, partly due to the return of soldiers and
sailors following the victory over Napoleon at Waterloo. There had also been a reduction in the rate of infant mortality.
In this census for the first time enumerators were asked to include the number of males and females in five-year age bands up to 20 years old, and in 10year age-bands after that. Many people had only a general idea of when they were born, so it was easier for them to give a loose indication of age. There was a dual objective: census compilers wanted to establish the number of men available to bear arms, and to improve the data for the
life-tables that were the basis of insurance schemes.
Rural Longevity
The more detailed enumeration of ages allowed an appreciation of longevity in different areas. Rural Connaught in the west of Ireland had the most centenarians: 104 had passed their 100th birthday among just over one million people. As census scholar Roger Hutchinson notes, “In the whole of the British Isles it appeared that Gaelic-speaking agriculturalists, if they survived high levels of infant mortality, could expect to live the longest lives.” Women were more likely to live to 100 than men.
For some superintendents and schoolmasters, compiling the census returns was a bore to be completed with minimal effort. Some enumerators, however, got the bit between their teeth.
In the listings for Hendon in London the numbers of windows and dogs were noted for each household. This was the result of innocent enthusiasm, probably powered by a desire to have information on matters subject to tax.
However, at a time of strong anti-Catholic feeling, a darker purpose seems to be behind questions about the religious persuasion of householders in Marnhull and
Shaftesbury St James, Dorset. These were not required by the census commissioners, but the ‘substantial householders’ who conducted the exercise may have used the authority of the census to measure a perceived threat. Some details seem to have been added just out of interest. In one of the surviving records from Hoxay South Ronaldsay on the Orkney Islands the enumerator felt moved to add beside the name Thomas Rosie, ‘son a missionary eaten by Canibals’ (see above).
This additional evidence can only be taken from records that survived, of course. Most of these ‘nominal listings’ compiled before the raw data was sent off to Whitehall were not preserved. Where they do survive, with additional information, they are a treasure trove for historians. A final page for the very thorough (and surviving) listing for Horton in Dorset shows the number of male labourers in the town, the level of wages, the average poor rate per acre, and the level of any allowance for the aged and infirm.
The 1801 and 1811 censuses were taken during the long series of wars with France, when people feared taxation or conscription arising from the count. With the conflict over, the 1821 census was more accurate. John Rickman, presiding over the national census, said, “The enumeration of the entire population may be considered complete.”