Almshouses

Many of my forebears were in and out of British almshouses, according to my friend and diligent genealogist Mabry.  Flat broke agricultural laborers, they had no choice in the 18th and 19th centuries but to go live with other destitute people.  Complete and wretched bummer, but at least there were almshouses.

I didn't have a grasp of what almshouses were, except probably dirt-floored and with miserable outdoor plumbing.  Turns out they are a European Christian tradition dating back to the 10th century. Alms are "money and services donated to help the poor," and an almshouse is a home for the poor maintained by private charity.

Right away, I'm uneasy.  First, I have long-dead relatives who were so poor that they were homeless.  This seems tragic and vaguely shameful.  Second, I'm so seared by the thousand-points-of-light thing,  the concept that private charity is an excellent way to dodge to raising taxes, that I get my back up.

The wealthy English who endowed almshouses (and there are still 2,600 houses in the UK, mostly for the elderly) did a kind thing, but would they have consented to paying taxes for the good of all poor people, some not in their parish and some perhaps not even Christian?  You gotta wonder.  

Today, like the 18th century,  volunteers and donors choose their charities to support, but that would make for a hell of a fragile safety net if the government weren't involved in some sort of systematic way. 

On a happier note:  The Berkeley Food Pantry finally got its FEMA grant, cut nearly in half but enough so that the pantry can provide through the end of the year, including Thanksgiving "baskets," as the clients insist on calling them.  Sounds like something my almshouse-dwelling relatives would say.