“Not these days,” John Rose replied. “But
put me down as a retired newsagent.”
I can imagine daughter Hannah, one of
20 children, looking up sharply. She
knew her pa had been a carpet-beater, and earlier, a licensed porter, but a
news agent? Now that was a surprise.
Only 20, Hannah was not interested in
her father’s early days, although she’d heard the tale of the tenth son often
enough.
Aged 21 in 1825, John had married
Isabella Sievewright at St Michael’s church, and by 1838, she’d delivered her tenth
child.
Being a practical joker, but at the
same time, deeply into radical politics, John decided to make a point about
tithing. He waited till the absentee
rector of St Mary’s, Frederick North, soon to be Earl of Guilford, arrived to
deliver a sermon and collect his dues.
John handed the baby to the Earl, who
admired his chubby cheeks.
“Here is my tithe, my Lord – my tenth
son,” John Rose said.
“No, no!” replied the rector, quickly
relinquishing the child, who was later baptised Guilford North Rose.
The incident was retold with mirth
around the beer houses of Southampton whenever the discussion turned to the unfairness
of the annual tithe.
With 19 children born between 1826
and 1864 to his two wives, the Rose household was often crowded. John wished his work paid better, enabling
the family to move away from the dark, dank back lanes of the Old Town. With so many people arriving from the rural
areas, rents were constantly rising.
Indeed, the population of Southampton
was exploding, with the expansion of the docks in the 1830s and the railway
opening in 1840. The town was a magnet
for agricultural workers seeking employment after years of drought and
mechanisation of farming.
Newspaper reports show that John Rose
had been a barrowman in the late 1840s, prior to becoming a porter; but there
in the 1841 census, was Isabella Rose, a news agent’s wife at 35 College
Street, together with an infant daughter and many sons.
But what of John? I finally found him listed amongst prisoners
in the Southampton House of Correction.
He’d been found guilty of libel in 1840.
If he hadn’t been a newsagent for 35
years, why state that occupation in 1881?
Could it be that only that occupation
had given him true satisfaction, feeling proud of trying to make his
contemporaries aware of social and political injustice?
Newspaper reports of public meetings
and his court appearances, whether as a defendant, plaintiff, grieving father
or witness, show John holding strong convictions, arguing forcefully and often theatrically.
He certainly believed that working men
deserved to have a voice in political decision making and everyday matters. Daily, he challenged injustice.
As a literate young man, he would
have been aware of the Six Acts introduced to Parliament in 1819, aimed at
keeping the working classes quiet and ill-informed and at suppressing riots and
revolt. Laws were made to suit the
wealthy and well-born, not men like him.
John Rose’s father Simon, of
Misterton in Somerset had, by 1795, established himself as a wool comber in
Southampton. This trade was amongst the
first to become organised, so I like to think John gained his political
consciousness by sitting at his father’s feet in winter, or at the beer shop,
where men escaped their crowded housing, telling tales, reading newspapers and
discussing politics over a pint of ale.
By 1832 John Rose had established a
newsagency in College Street, near the bustling retail area Canal Walk, selling
newspapers and tobacco products. He also
set up a printing press, creating posters, almanacs and his own political
tracts and humorous ditties.
Like so many other working men and
their champions, he’d been disappointed when the 1832 Reform Act dashed his
expectations of gaining the vote: only men of property did so.
He became known as the Opposition
Town Crier, dressed in a crimson coat with white sleeves and a gold hat, with a
bell, announcing the headlines from the radical papers and tracts he sold. He was a tall man of imposing physique, a consummate
showman, not averse to a scuffle or to drown out the opposition with his loud
voice. The Town Corporation tried to
shut him down but had no legal grounds to do so. John was what we’d call a bush lawyer, and
had plenty of supporters amongst the poorer town folk and intellectuals.
However, the authorities constantly
monitored his activities and, by using the laws enacted in 1819, brought him
before the Police Court, fining him for selling unstamped newspapers. The tax was often four times the unstamped
price, putting the papers out of the reach of poorer folk. After the congregating laws were relaxed, the
first working men’s literary or mechanics institutions were born and
subscriptions taken out, with better educated men reading the newspapers and
tracts to others. Earlier, beer houses
were a place to gather for discussions.
Throughout the 1830s and 40s, John
Rose struggled to pay his fines, and sometimes found himself in the God’s House
Tower, at that time used as a debtor’s prison, until he could find the
money. Other times, he was fined a small
amount, and let go with a surety of £20 or more to keep the peace. His impetuosity often got the better of him.
The Chartists tried time and time
again until 1848 to get their petitions taken seriously by Parliament, but gave
up after the third attempt. It was not
until 1867 that the franchise was further extended and the qualifications for
seeking parliamentary office extended beyond wealthy landowners and
leaseholders. Universal franchise was
instituted in 1928.
Meanwhile, sometime after his libel
case, John Rose had closed down his news agency. I often wonder whether he’d burnt out
politically, had a newsagent’s license suspended, or if Isabella had put her
foot down and suggested he earn a better living for his fast growing family.
################################
Note: John Rose (1804-1884) was one of my 3x great
grandfathers.
This post was written as an assignment for the UTas Diploma of Family History in 2017.
Bibliography
http://sotonopedia.wikidot.com/
Articles on John Rose, Anspach Place, God’s House Tower, radicals.
http://www.plimsoll.org/Southampton/streetdirectories/directory1836/default.asp#2
Kelly’s Directory, Southampton, 1836
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Six_Acts
The Man: a rational advocate. Sunday November 24,
1833
http://search.ancestry.co.uk/search/group/ukicen
UK census records 1841, 1851, 1861, 1871, 1881
www.ancestry.co.uk
England and Wales. Birth, marriages, and death, including parishes.
www.findmypast.co.uk. British newspapers. Many articles from the Hampshire Advertiser,
between 1829-1884.
www.localhistories.org/southampton.html
Southampton in the 18th century.
What an interesting ancestor!
ReplyDeleteWhat a fascinating character he was! You have an amazing amount of detail about his life.
ReplyDelete