Duckington is a small parish set in attractive rolling country, some ten miles south of Chester in England. It has a mailbox, but no post office and no pub. For church and chapel, inhabitants have always gone to nearby parishes. The First World War poet Wilfred Owen spent summers in the area in his youth—but that’s not why I visited.

Small as it is, records show that over 200 years ago, three destitute American sailors were walking along the Coach Road on January 19, 1816. We can assume that the American sailors were headed for Chester a dozen miles to the north, intending to go on to Liverpool to catch a ship home. It is probable that they had either been taken prisoner by the Royal Navy during the short, but violent, War of 1812—or had been press ganged on the high seas by the British. (Some 6,500 American sailors were held in the then recently built Dartmoor prison in 1815 when the war ended.)

To get to Duckington they would have passed through No Mans Heath a few miles to the south, so named for its occasional brigands, and where an undaunted Celia Fiennes had stopped a century earlier on her path breaking ride around Britain as recorded Through England on a Side Saddle.

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From there the sailors would have passed through Hampton Post and on to Duckington—with a population then (as now) around 60. By the time they got there the Americans were broke and hungry so they stopped to ask for sustenance—or “relief” in the legal parlance of the day. For this they contacted the parish “overseer”—the local official in charge of providing just such assistance for the destitute.

We read in the overseer’s records for 1816:

“To three American sailors with a pass 1s, 0d”—that is, one shilling and no pence (the ‘d’ adapted after the Roman denarius). It was not a princely sum—perhaps $5-$6 depending on which inflation calculator you use—but would have purchased more beer and food than five bucks would get you today. If the overseer had any opinion regarding their character he makes no mention of it.

Commemorating the intrepid traveller Celia Fiennes who stopped at No Mans Heath in the early 1700s.

The Americans were not the only sailors helped by Duckington parish that year, for we also find in the records: “To relieving five sailors with a pass 0s 10d on 18th of August.” Note that five English sailors had to share 10 pence—two pennies less than the three Americans received.

At that time, under the poor law of England, each parish was legally obligated to assist any destitute person with legally established residence in the locality—a welfare system unique in Europe at the time. Wayfarer’s travelling through were also often helped—as long as they weren’t planning on staying.

The overseer was appointed annually and acted in a purely voluntary capacity. He collected modest taxes from those who owned or rented property above a certain value and in turn dispensed assistance in cash or in bread, cheese or coal for a fire to those in need. For those living in the parish, relief could be substantial over time. Need was the determining factor, not whether a person was “deserving” or “undeserving.”

Impoverished widows, unmarried mothers, and disabled workers are found frequently in the records.

Births, daily struggles, deaths are all there in the laconic entries of the Duckington overseers with their variable spellings and flexible grammar. In 1816 we read:

“18th July To Margaret Nevitt [newborn] child 13 weeks pay at 2s/6d per week - £1.12.6d.” The entry continues “Paid Mrs Phillips for attending Margaret Nevitt £1.1s.0d” [at the birth].

Then there are the entries on Breeley Cote, a destitute older woman, who fell sick:

“To Breeley Cote 10s 7d; [to cover cost of a medical officer]

“To paid for Breeley borrad money 6s 0d” [probably covering a debt]

“To Breeley, coffin £1/14s/0d;

“To Breeley burial fees - 5s/6d;

And: “To a man cuming to tel us no[w] Breely being Ded 3s/0d.”

The Duckington overseer gave the Americans a pass to indicate they were bona fide wayfarers on their way, ultimately, home. We can only speculate that they finally caught a ship for the U.S. in Liverpool—but we know that once on the high seas sailors often jumped ship, not always caring which national flag was being flown. But I like to think that with a little help from Duckington parish, they ultimately arrived at where they wanted to be.