Worse and worse the state of things became, till towards the end of the last century the climax was reached; there were then whole families of paupers who, generation after generation, made no effort towards self-support either for themselves or their offspring. These last were brought up entirely on charity, clothed, fed, and apprenticed, till finally married by charity, the fees being paid out of the charity money; nor did the matter end there, for, probably, after the lapse of years the wedded couple with their children (if they became chargeable to the parish) were returned to their native village, again to become recipients of its charity till death claimed them, and the parish paid the funeral expenses.

The first commission upon the Poor Laws took place in William IV.’s reign, and since then reform has gradually been at work. In many places public charity is still abused; but no real good can be effected at once, and every effort must be proved by long and fair trial, under which all unsuitable experiments will fail, and only the practical and beneficial ones will survive the test. Of course, relief and outdoor assistance were left very much to the discretion and honesty of the overseer, whose accounts were yearly scrutinized at the Easter vestry, when the parochial accounts were discussed. Sometimes these discussions were considered of sufficient importance to be entered in the parish books. Questions as to the ownership and distribution of pews in the church, repairs to the edifice, by whom they were to be done, boundaries, and whose business it was to keep in order certain roads lying between rival parishes—all such matters came forward for consideration, and, finally, the officers for the ensuing year were elected, and the books handed over to the new churchwardens.

Perhaps a further check upon miscellaneous entries being made in the books was that all the accounts had ‘to be passed’ at the nearest Sessions and signed by the presiding magistrate, who was some neighbouring squire.

The parish constable is now replaced by the policeman supplied by the county, as visible representative of the law in rural places.

One entry often found among the old accounts was of repairs done to the village stocks, frequently used to punish petty offences, especially drunkenness. The pound, too, often needed mending; fines for allowing animals to stray and become empounded are among the most frequent entries in old manor court rolls. In many places a hayward was a regularly appointed officer for this purpose, whose duty it was to capture the animals and attend to them until they were reclaimed by their owner or sold to defray expenses. In Berkshire the hayward, or pinder, gave a tally to the person who brought the beast found on his land, and he did not deliver the beast until its owner produced the tally, proving that compensation for damage had been properly paid, as well as expenses for keep during its detention.

The offices of overseer of the poor and of road surveyor, the latter called waywarden, are not of any great antiquity; nor are they of consequence so far as regards the old account books, in which their elections are often not even mentioned. As to the constable, we only get a casual glimpse of his duties when we read a list of his expenses incurred in conveying some delinquent parishioner to the county gaol, or of journeys taken to distant places to enquire into the antecedents of paupers, or in taking them back to their own villages.

It is the overseers’ accounts which are really curious—those long lists of garments bought to clothe the paupers and their children, the old apprentice forms by which the children were placed out in service so soon as they were capable of earning a stray sixpence towards their own keep. Cruel as it seemed to be to send out such young children to work, it was, in reality, the kindest thing that could be done for them, for it gave them a chance of thoroughly learning a trade and so becoming independent and working for themselves. With all our modern Poor Law organization and schemes of education, I believe in the end we shall eventually return to the old system of juvenile apprenticeships—a far more practical method of teaching than any mere class instruction.

Maybe a bundle of old papers are rolled together among the account books. These may be the orders for the removal of paupers back to the village they called ‘home,’ a custom first originated by some Acts of Parliament passed by Charles II. At the same time the parish officers were commanded and forced by penalties to provide for paupers removed back into their parish, and, to prevent fraud, written proofs as to the proper home or residence of the paupers had to be obtained and produced; these papers are called ‘settlements.’ Paupers are now removed back to the workhouse of their own district if they can prove a certain length of residence.

The parish officers did their best for the welfare of their charges: they provided the old women with spinning-wheels, so that they could earn a trifle for themselves, while the men were set to work on the road; when failing in health they were tended by a parish nurse, and if sick the doctor saw them. Sometimes they were sent to Bath or Cheltenham to be cured by the far-famed waters. For many years these old annuitants lingered on, till we read the last entry paid for burying Goody or Goodman So-and-so.

Any public event which required to be celebrated by the ringing of the church bells is sure to be mentioned among the ordinary expenses.