The seven ages of a village pauper

Preface

The incidents related in these pages are facts, however much my readers may differ from the conckisions drawn from them.

The following also is a fact. This country, which it is our boast to claim as the finest, the best, the richest, the most charitable kingdom in the world, allows its escutcheon to be defaced by the deepest and largest blot of pauperism, poverty, and misery !

The following likewise is a fact. A million of our people are at this moment actual paupers. One in every twenty of us is now dependent, as a matter of course, on the parish dole or the misery of alms. JNIore than this. How many

VI PREFACE.

go through Hfe without any tinge of these pauperising influences ? Does a half of our population ? Does a quarter ? or is it even fewer still ?

Who is to blame for this ? Is it the poor themselves ? Is it the rich ? Is it the mighty ? Or have all who claim to be educated a share in the responsibility ?

Are we, as a nation, contending with this gigantic evil ? Are our Poor Laws, our colossal charities so called, our glorious institutions, and our vaunted philanthropy reducing this stream of misery which it is their boasted purpose to relieve ? Or arc they, by the false basis on which they are built, and the indolent alms-giving which so many of us indulge in, and blindly mistake for Christian charity, making matters seven-fold worse from generation to generation ?

Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

I. INTRODUCTORY — THE VILLAGE .... I

IL INFANCY 50

Chapter I. Introductory.— The Village

T N these days of novelty we hear of strange things. We hear of books being written (a. on specks of dirt, of learned discussions being held on creatures so small, that they require the aid of a powerful microscope even to make them visible ; we hear of every inanimate, as well as every animate creature either claiming its own place in the social circle, or else getting someone else to take up its cause. Indeed that man feels himself happy who can manage in some way or other to bring to light something

B novel, which he can show to have a fair claim for gaining attention, and such an one becomes at once a hero, if the discovered object can be shown in any way to have a grievance.

We can lay no claim to novelty ; the Village and its inhabitants are literally as old as the hills. The Village Pauper is, alas, too well known, even to be looked upon as a curiosity for the collector. He is 'dxQ flora ahmda of these isles, growing as freely as the thistle, and like that troublesome plant, multiplying and blooming all the more as the richness of the soil becomes developed.

This is our claim for being allowed to dwell on the subject. The Village Pauper is an element of our constitution : he is part and parcel of our system, and as such would it not be a grievance if his part were not taken t if his history were not written, and if his vcr}'- common-

INTRODUCTORY.

placedness were not made the text for the Hues of the poet and the oratory of the platform ?

But our programme is not so grand, or so imposing, as to pretend to grasp the Village Pauper as a whole ; our arms would not be wide enough ; the race is so extended, that no doubt in every part of the country varieties and peculiarities are to be met with. We, however, take one single specimen, and try to examine that. We are, indeed, like the dealer in corn, who pushes his probe into the sack and draws out a few grains from which to judge of the nature of the wheat. As a rule he finds this is a good test. He glances at the sack, but he examines minutely the few grains. We glance at the whole genus of "pauper," but we have tried to study in detail the few individuals of one particular village. But why choose this one village.'' We might say why not take this as well as any other ; but such an

h 2 answer would probably suggest that it was picked out for a special purpose, or to prove some foregone conclusion, though we had not the honesty to acknowledge it. It was really taken like the sample of the corn — at random from the sack. I wished to take one of my children into the country for his health, and I wrote to all the chief house-agents in a district comprising the greater part of three counties. Some thirty applications were thus made, and from the answers received, we selected the farmhouse which we liked best. This village accordingly was the one I tried to study in careful detail during my visit, and in this way was my sample selected. Could any selection be more fair .'' and can the veriest grumbler find fault .''

* * *

THE VILLAGE.

I. — The Village. Statistics.

A few words on our Village before we introduce our hero. Though situated within twentyfour miles of the great metropolis, it may be said to be one of the most out-of-the-way places in the country. It is four miles from a station, and although at one extremity a well-known highway passes through a corner of it, the village itself is off the line of any main road, and no one would ever be likely to pass through it in going to or coming from any familiar part. In size the parish is considerable, having an area of over 6200 acres, with a population of 1456 souls, and a rateable value of ;^9445.

After this statistical description of our basis of operations, it need hardly be said that our village is agricultural, and that beyond a few brick-makers and mechanics, the population is entirely occupied in the various duties of farm life. The wages are accordingly low, about 12s. to I5J-. a-week, though they have been much influenced of late years by the general rise in other districts. The mechanics earn a pound or 2^s., and the brick-makers during the summer earn fully 30^". a week. House-rent is fairly low, varying from 2 to 5 guineas a year, according to the condition of the cottages, which are sufficiently large for a man and wife and four or five children ; and it is only right to say that most of them are very superior to the average of London dwellings. The land is generally poor, not fetching more on an average than 20s. an acre, and in many places much less.

* *

*

RELIGIOUS ELEMENT OF THE VILLAGE. ^

II. — Religious Element of the Village.

The fabric of the church makes a charming little picture. The churchyard is full of old elms and one fine yew, under which, no doubt, our ancestors have danced their war-dances many a time without being bothered or haunted by the village pauper. The rectory is close by, and is as pretty a place as can be desired. In addition to this, there is another church at the outlying end of the parish, which has been recently erected, chiefly by the liberality of the rector. Chapels do not abound, as in some villages, though there is one not very far from the church. From all I could gather, I do not think this one flourishes very well ; and in this opinion I am borne out by some remarks I heard made by an old woman, the wife of one of the head authorities at the chapel, who became very friendly with me during my stay. The old woman was talking to a somewhat younger person than herself in a most rapturous manner of the success which had attended the school treat her children had just had at the dissenting school, and which had, of course, for the time, drawn away a large number of the church school children. The younger woman then asked when they were going to have their festival, and the old woman replied that they intended to give it up, because it did not pay.

" You sec," she said, turning to me, " there's no gentry about here, and what there is goes in for the church. We can't manage it ourselves, though we used to somehow. There's such a lot like Mrs. Jones, regular 'devil dodgers,' as I call them all ; them as goes one day to one place, and then the next day to the other, and then don't give nothing to either."

RELIGIOUS ELEMENT OF THE VILLAGE. 9

" Well," replied the other woman, who was the Mrs. Jones thus complimentarily alluded to, " I keep to one place, I'm sure. I used to go to the chapel, but since I gave that up I've been regular to the church, that you must say. I'll come to your festival, though, if you'll have one."

" We don't want you, and wouldn't have you, I can tell you," replied the old lady, " though perhaps I should have called you turncoats and not devil dodgers, if you think that's a little too strong for you. I don't think it is a bit, though," she added, half aside to me, by way of a final blow-off.

The churches are well attended, and the service is conducted creditably. The high church ideas have of course crept in ; the rector is an elderly man with a number of charming grown-up daughters, and their tendency is, I need not lO THE SEVEN AGES OF A VILLAGE PAUPER.

say, high. There is, however, httle which even a low churchman could object to in the simplicity and propriety with which all is conducted. For myself I must say I rarely hear better singing or a more reverentially conducted service in town, notwithstanding the fashionable choirs and the still more fashionable "impressive ceremonial." One advantage, then, our village pauper has permanently over me, and that is, if he chooses to avail himself of it, that he has a church service such as I can rarely get in London, and one which, at least to my liking, is much better than what I am accustomed to. But then everybody thinks differently, and does not care for what they have, and so, perhaps, my village pauper might prefer the service and ceremonial which I have so often to endure much against my will.

* * *

MEDICAL ATTENDANCE. II

III. — Medical Attendance.

Next to the spiritual healing of our village comes, of course, the provision for relieving its bodily ailments. Here, however, we are not so well off as we might be, or so fortunate as in our ecclesiastical arrangements. We have no resident medical man ; but the one who looks after us comes from a neighbouring village four miles off. How this can be improved, I don't know, for it certainly would not pay a medical man to live in our village, unless his presence secured permanent illness all round, and possibly then the people would as soon do without him, and leave things as they are.

The truth of the matter is, that in our village the Parish is the doctor, and all aim how they may somehow or other get him allowed, whenever they are ill or think themselves to be so.

There are some few, certainly, who do not contrive to get this rehef; they manage badly, I suppose, are too thrifty, or careless in allowing their careful habits to be known, or from some other reason are excluded. These, instead of striving to arrange a medical club, or some other insurance against the heavy cost of a doctor's bill, content themselves with grumbling at being defrauded of the parish attendance. What the doctor's charges are it is impossible to find out, though from all I could ascertain, they must fall very heavily indeed on those who have to pay them out of their agricultural wages. For confinements the fee is one guinea, and although, perhap.s, the doctor will say it does not pay him to come four miles at all times of the day and night, and then have perhaps to wait for years for his fee, yet it is certain that such a sum is too great a charge out of I5i". a week. A clerk

MEDICAL ATTENDANCE. 1 3

earning ^200 a year would hardly care to pay £^ 5 J. for the same service, though he could better afford it than the agricultural labourer can his guinea. Indeed, the very fact of the fee for every confinement after the fourth being borne by the parish is a tacit acknowledgment that the charge is out of all proportion to the earnings.

A medical club could not exist in our village, because the few who do not get medical relief for nothing by the parish — would not be numerous enough to support it, even if they wished. Besides this, they all hope to get on to the parish next time they are ill, so that they do not wish to provide for themselves, as it would cut them out altogether from relief for all time. The Poor Law has indeed too long encouraged them in these ideas, and made it more worth their while to try and scramble on to the parish by evasion if they can't manage it in any other way, rather than tended to encourage and assist them to make a business arrangement for themselves, whereby they could, by a small monthly payment of a few pence, insure against the chance of a long doctor's bill, or the necessity of going to the parish.

If all the payments to the doctors for ordinary sickness are in proportion to this large sum of a guinea for confinements, they must fall very heavily on those who have to struggle with illness and the additional expenses consequent thereon, together with the loss of earnings, which sickness must entail even if it do not befall the actual bread-winner of the family.

Medical clubs might and should be formed by the parish through their relieving officers, perhaps in towns in connection with some provident dispensar}^ but in villages such as ours they

MEDICAL ATTENDANCE. 15

might work independently. The rules might be very simple and somewhat as follows : —

1. Any weekly- waged man paying monthly or quarterly a sum of in advance, to have the

right, in the event of sickness, to receive medical advice.

2. The relieving officer on his visit to receive the contributions of the medical club.

3. No medical relief of any sort to be given out of the Union-house, except to members of the medical club.

The amount of payment required might vary. In populous districts a penny a week, and a reduction for several in a family, would remunerate a medical man handsomely, as compared with what the parish now pays him. It might, however, be good policy, at all events at first, for the parish, if necessary, to supplement the payments to the doctor, so as to charge a very small sum to each one joining the club. In the union of which our own village is a part — presuming that three-fourths of the inhabitants are of the industrial class, and supposing that they all joined such a club, and paid each a farthing a week, or one shilling and one penny a year — the receipts, without anything from the rates, would be sufficient. This sum would enable the parish to treble the salaries of all the medical officers, who now receive ;^340 a year between them, and to add 30 per cent to the salaries of the relieving officers, for their trouble of collecting, instead of expending out of the rates the ;^340 a year given to the medical men, as they do now. A very small extra might cover the cost of confinements.

The moral result of such a system on the people themselves would be, however, far more important than the gain to the pockets of the

EDUCATION. 1 7 ratepayers : and I am bold to assert that there is not a parish in this country so poor and distressed, but that the inhabitants could make the effort indicated, and who would not very rapidly feel and acknowledge the benefit of it, were it introduced. In our village a very little more than the rent and taxes of one of the public-houses would do it, and I feel sure the people would in a year or two rejoice at such an arrangement. They would of course grumble about it at first, but that is English and

only reasonable.

* * *

IV. — Education.

The education of our village is fairly good. There may not be quite sufificient accommodation to fulfil absolutely the conditions of the Act, but in a large straggling village this is very

difficult, and almost impossible literally to

c iS THE SEVEN AGES OF A VILLAGE PAUPER.

comply with. There are very few children who are not either at school, or who have not learned to read and write. Mainly through the liberality of the rector a beautiful school-house has been . erected in the village, and although it has only just been placed under government inspection it has been doing good work for some years.

The feeling as to the advantage of education is very different in our village to what it was some years ago, and not a few of the villagers deserve the greatest praise for the efforts they have made, and are making in many instances to secure to their children the benefits of a sound rudimentary education.

"How have you managed about your children's schooling.?" I said to a middle-aged woman one day.

" They can all read and write, sir," she said, with some pride, " and that's ail we could do for

EDUCATION. 1 9 them. For seventeen years we had five ahvays at school ; at one time as many as six. We paid 2d. a week for each of them, at least, that's to say, for all except them who went free. The last clergyman sent three of ours to that school just down the lane here ; there's always three who can go there for nothing, and for some years it was our three."

"Then your schooling must have cost you something .-'"

" Yes, sir, it did, but it's a great thing for them all to be able to read and write."

This shows that no small effort had been made by this woman, and she is no solitaiy instance, to the credit of the village be it said. This particular woman had had fourteen children, and even supposing she and her husband, who was an agricultural labourer, had contrived so to add to the ordinary wages as to make them a pound

C 2 a week on an average — and this is supposing a great deal — the school pence must have made a vciy considerable impression on the week's earnings, and have cut off many a little personal comfort and much-coveted luxury. Such cases indeed as our village would produce, in this respect, would put to shame many of the far better paid inhabitants of our towns, who so often declare so noisily that they cannot afford the school pence.

* * *

V. — Charities.

Our village has one advantage ; it is troubled very little indeed with what are called charities or endowments, but what might with greater propriety be called " Pauperisers." Discussing the matter one day with my excellent friend the sexton, he said :

CHARITIES. 21

" Well you see, sir, we don't have much given away here, neither money nor food. There is some put out for beef and bread at Christmas, though it ain't much ; but you know, sir, lots of people get it who don't want it, and who it never does any good to, while others who would think it a God-send are thought not to want it. The fact of the matter is, sir, as I often says, and sees over and over again, that the least deserving, the drunken and thriftless lot, always get everything, because they look so poor and wretched whenever Mr. Parson or Mr. Anybody goes to see 'em. If they goes to church on a Sunday regular as well, why then no one's got a chance agin 'cm, sir, let 'em swear how they may during the week."

The effect of the abundance of charities in different other parishes, however, is not lost on our favoured village. The residents look upon themselves as badly treated, from this very circumstance.

" This is a poor place, sir, I can tell ye ; nobody gives nothing away, and we have to buy our things in the winter, which is very hard. Where my sister lives the people are good and kind, and no mistake. It's all very well talking, but I like to see people act up to it like. Why some ladies give her children clothes to go to school with, besides paying the school money. Nobody ever gives ours a treat worth talking about here. She gets her own clothes almost for nothing through a Dorcas society, and coals too from the minister's club. Then in winter she can always have as much good soup as she likes for nothing. That's what I call acting up to principle. Besides that, her husband earns twice as much as mine can, which makes it very hard indeed for me. This is a poor place, sir, I can tell ye, for I've never

PROVIDENT CLUBS. 2

O had anything but a bit of beef on Christmas-day from old Lady Give-away's money."

I must acknowledge, when I discovered this condition of my village, I could not help thinking that anyhow it had certainly something to be thankful for, and that very little of the pauperised condition of the people could be laid at the door of the former residents in bygone ages.

*

VI.— Provident Clubs.

Charities as they are called, from the way in which they are usually managed, must unfortunately be almost regarded as the antidote to Provident Clubs, and such-like institutions. For this reason, we may fairly consider this feature of our village next. We have two clubs, and arc exactly in the position of many other places as regards this provision for the future. The old club is collapsing, and scarcely any members remain in it, for the simple reason that the money is well-nigh exhausted. When started, it was formed on a wrong basis ; too little was charged for the benefits promised, and although everything apparently looked right for the first ten years, during which money was accumulating, yet it soon became evident after that that it could not, as the members got old, meet all the claims which would be made upon it. Young people accordingly refused to enter, and formed another club on their own account. The new club is therefore the club of the village, and is based on sound principles, so that, if the rules are kept to, it is not likely to fall into the errors of its predecessor.

The members must be men or boys from fifteen years of age ; women are not admitted, and the number in the club at the present time

PROVIDENT CLUBS. 2$ is 85, many of whom belong to several parishes. The population of our village alone is 1456, among whom there must be, according to the usual average, no fewer than 370 persons who are within the age and are eligible to become members. There is, however, as we shall presently see, good reason for this unsatisfactory result. In fact, the wonder to anyone who goes into the matter will be that so many join the club at all. considering the strong inducements to the contrary owing to the Poor Law regulations. The best way of judging of this may be gathered from the following conversation I had with an elderly woman on this subject :

" When your husband was ill, I suppose you obtained parish relief.''"

" Yes, a little ; but my husband belongs to the club. When he's ill he gets los. a week from that, so they only allowed us 2s. more, making it about I2s. altogether, for our large family, and we had nearly always six or seven children at home."

" How much less would you have got if you had not been in a club .'"'

" We should have got about the same altogether, though a little less, they tell me. The club money always goes against you, and they make it up somehow by putting the two together."

"Then really you did not get much advantage from the club, except the satisfaction of feeling that what you were drawing was your own money .'' "

" Well, not in that way, sir."

" Do you think that prevents people joining the club.?"

"Yes; I am sure of it, sir. I have often heard people say it makes no difference, so there is no

PROVIDENT CLUBS. 27

good in belonging. You see the relieving officer always asks you the first thing if you belong to a club, and if you do, it's sure to go against you."

" Do you think it should ? "

" Well, I don't know, sir ; I suppose they know best ; but it certainly is no encouragement for a man to try to keep himself; and my husband, though he has always held to the club since it was formed, has sometimes said the same thing."

This is the real truth in our village, and our village is no exception, I fear, to almost every other village in the country. The state of affairs is this. Free medical relief is provided, if no other provision is made by the person himself, and at the same time out-door relief is obtained almost for the asking, while the notion is allowed to grow up, that club money " always goes against a man." Club money, which should be one of the honourable and independent ways by which a man should provide for himself, in sickness, old age, &c.- — for this to go against him seems too absurd, and yet practically the present system encourages such a notion, and has allowed it to take deep root. Surely it is a wonder that anybody provides at all for himself, that anybody joins the club. The parish is really the village club, and the best sort of club too for that matter, for it never breaks, and no one who draws out has to pay any subscription. No logic can be clearer, so what is the good of our turning round and wondering at the increase of pauperism ? We might with much more reason wonder at and admire the independent spirit which, in spite of all that has been done, must still exist, from the very fact of the way in which friendly societies have grown up, and extended their

THRIFT. 29 operations. This consideration shows that there is a germ of thrift which by a Httle system would develop and flourish like a willow by

the water-courses,

* *

VII.— Thrift.

Perhaps this subject should have been touched upon before the last, but I thought that provident clubs followed so well on improvident charities that, even if I have done so, I venture in this case to put the cart before the horse.

No doubt some thrifty persons exist in our village ; the club proves that, and as we have just seen, in spite of circumstances, the provident spirit is not exterminated, but it is not too common. I somewhat doubt if any one of the members of the club would own to having put by a sovereign. Those who are careful are so on the sly and must hoard their savings, for except as far as the club may be called a savings bank, which certainly it is in one sense, there is no regular savings bank within four miles. No penny bank of any description exists, and altogether the encouragements which have been made to induce persons to depend on themselves might almost be put down as nil. This is the less excusable, as in a subsequent chapter I point out the great advantages produced by a penny bank which formerly existed in the village, but which was given up, because no one could be found to continue it !

Whatever faults there may be then in the habits of our villagers as regards thrift, they cannot be said to be neglecting any provisions which have been made for them ; nor can they be called indifferent to the beneficent arrangements by which thrift has been put into their

THRIFT. 31 heads and by which they have been encouraged to attend to it. They have in truth never had a chance to try and get into better habits. I have spoken to many who have readily acknowledged that they might and could pi t by regularly small sums, though they have no idea of the value of such small sums. From what has been said this cannot be wondered at, for unless a man knows by his own or another's experience how shillings and pence soon accumulate into pounds, how can he be expected to believe it ? Even if he believes it, is it reasonable to expect him to walk eight miles for the purpose of putting a shilling into the Post Office Savings Bank .'' If the money he tries to save is kept in the house, it either burns a hole in his pocket very soon, or requires him to have the spirit of a miser to prevent it from slipping away before