For many labouring families, parish relief did not simply mean receiving money or food. Whenever possible, the Overseers tried to provide paid work instead. One of the clearest examples survives in the records of road repairs, where the same names that appear in the Overseers’ accounts receiving relief later reappear earning wages maintaining the parish roads.
The parish records reveal the changing fortunes of Samuel Mills over more than thirty years. During the 1760s his name appears repeatedly in the Overseers’ accounts. He received money, had his rent paid, was supplied with coal during hard winters and the parish even bought clothing for his children. Like many working families, the Mills household seems to have lived only a step away from hardship.
Towards the end of the century, however, the records show a different relationship developing. Rather than simply supporting Sam with relief, the parish was paying him to work.
The roads that Sam repaired bore little resemblance to those we know today. They were built up from earth, gravel and whatever suitable stone could be obtained locally. Horses, carts and wet weather quickly churned the surface into ruts and potholes, while dry weather scattered the loose gravel and raised clouds of dust. Keeping the roads passable required continual attention. Fresh gravel had to be spread, worn surfaces scraped level, weeds cut back and drainage maintained.
Most of the gravel came from a local gravel pit, although the accounts occasionally record gravel being taken directly from the River Trent. The records show that maintaining the roads was not an occasional task but a continuous one.
The Highway Surveyor’s accounts begin in 1797 and provide a remarkable glimpse of the work. Samuel Shaw, the Surveyor, paid “Old Sam Mills” ten pence a day for repairing the roads. With the exception of November, when no road work appears to have been undertaken, Sam worked between ten and twenty-seven days in almost every month of the year. The accounts occasionally describe the work itself, including spreading gravel, scraping the road surface, cutting weeds from the verges and wetting the roads to help bind the loose material together.
Sam was not the only person employed. Edward Greatrix, William Lunn and John Derry also appear from time to time, suggesting that additional labour was taken on when required. Yet it is Sam Mills whose name dominates the accounts, indicating that he had become the parish’s regular road labourer.
The records also reveal that women could occasionally undertake this work. In 1805 Elizabeth Waltho was paid for two days spent picking stones from the road, although at only eight pence a day she received less than Sam Mills. Whether this reflected the nature of the work, contemporary attitudes towards women’s labour or both, the accounts do not say. Nevertheless, her appearance reminds us that maintaining the parish roads could involve whole families during times of hardship.
Even the practicalities of the work survive in the accounts. One entry records payment to Mr Woolley of £2 6s 6d for “ale etc.” supplied over a two-year period. Whether this was provided directly to the road workers or formed part of other highway business is uncertain, but it hints at the physical demands of the work and the social customs that surrounded it.
This was probably not an overdue bill in the modern sense but the settlement of a running account with one of the village’s leading families. Thomas Woolley appears elsewhere in the parish records as Overseer of the Poor, Churchwarden and later as gamekeeper for the local manor. Rather than dealing with outside contractors, the parish was relying on people who were themselves part of the community and often held several different responsibilities over the course of their lives.
These records reveal a side of parish relief that is easily overlooked. Rather than simply distributing money, the parish often sought to provide employment that benefited both the labourer and the community. Men and women who might otherwise have depended entirely on relief earned wages keeping the village roads open and usable. For Samuel Mills, whose name appears in the records for more than three decades, the parish offered not just assistance in hard times but also the opportunity to earn a living through useful work.
The names in the accounts also remind us that these were not anonymous labourers. The Greatrix and Waltho families appear elsewhere in the parish records through settlement examinations, poor relief and apprenticeship, illustrating how closely connected village life was. A family receiving relief in one decade might be repairing the roads in the next, while another whose children had once depended on the parish could later become part of one of Armitage’s most influential families. The records therefore tell a broader story than road maintenance alone. They reveal a community in which work, hardship and mutual responsibility were closely intertwined.