This article investigates the changing administrative context of drainage in south-west Lancashire from the mid-seventeenth to the mid-nineteenth centuries. Successive schemes managed by Commissions of Sewers, piecemeal reclamation and private agreement were characterised by primitive technology, under-investment and poor management. Consequently, their achievements were limited. Large scale drainage schemes under the control of single individuals or powerful syndicates enjoyed greater success, but to coordinate drainage across an ecosystem that went beyond estate boundaries required state intervention in the form of an Act of Parliament of 1779. After some initial success the drainage commissioners found themselves immersed in legal wranglings with landowners and maintenance of the drainage system largely fell into abeyance. It was not until the landlords provided the administrative and financial resources to invest in technological solutions in the 1840s that the land achieved its full potential. It is argued that drainage of this land, resulting in its transformation from some of the worst land in the country to some of the best, was a major contributor not only to the agricultural success of the region, but also to Lancashire's industrial success.

Historiographical debates on the causes and implications of early modern and early industrial settlement legislation, which determined the locality where one could apply for poor relief, have so far focused mainly on England and Wales. These regions are deemed exceptional for the national character and universality of their Poor Laws (1601), associated Act of Settlement (1662) and later amendments. However, if the focus is shifted from the national legislative framework to actual practice, several continental regions had relief and settlement arrangements that bore many resemblances to those in England and Wales. This article draws on existing literature and archival research to explore the evolution of settlement law and practice in the Southern Netherlands, i.e. present-day Belgium, from the seventeenth to the late nineteenth centuries, and compares its main features with the situation in England and Wales. This comparative exercise brings to the fore a number of striking resemblances and remarkable differences, which question the precise nature of the British exception. While further research is needed to gauge fully the causes and consequences of the observed similarities and differences, this article aims to demonstrate how a comparative approach towards issues of settlement and relief not only elucidates our understanding of the particularities and generalities of the English/Welsh case, but also widens our insight into the social, economic, and cultural implications of settlement arrangements in general.

Agricultural incendiarism was a perennial factor in social relations in some areas of nineteenth-century rural England and is often understood by historians as an expression of ‘covert’ social protest. However, such categorisation risks oversimplifying what may be diverse and locally specific factors. In 1830, the high sheriff of Somerset presided over England's last ever scene of crime execution at the Somerset village of Kenn following the conviction of three labourers for incendiarism. This requires explanation. Crime scene executions were not only anachronistic and rare, but unfashionably brutal and expensive by this time, and were not undertaken lightly; moreover arson was soon to be removed from the list of capital statutes. Yet, oddly, the case was not obviously connected to the agenda of ‘social protest’ characterised by Swing as it emerged just months afterwards; indeed understanding the behaviour of the county authorities here requires an appreciation of a considerably more specific and parochial set of concerns and conditions. The Kenn incendiaries, it is argued here, were put to death at the scene of their crime to protect and uphold the principle of informing in a rural community whose dysfunctional social relations made the practice a judicial necessity.

Since the publication of Hobsbawm and Rudé's Captain Swing our understanding of the role(s) of covert protests in Hanoverian rural England has advanced considerably. Whilst we now know much about the dramatic practices of incendiarism and animal maiming and the voices of resistance in seemingly straightforward acquisitive acts, one major gap remains. Despite the fact that almost thirty years have passed since E. P. Thompson brought to our attention that under the notorious ‘Black Act’ the malicious cutting of trees was a capital offence, no subsequent research has been published. This paper seeks to address this major lacuna by systematically analysing the practices and patterns of malicious attacks on plants (‘plant maiming’) in the context of late eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century southern England. It is shown that not only did plant maiming take many different forms, attacking every conceivable type of flora, but also that it was universally understood and practised. In some communities plant maiming was the protestors' weapon of choice. As a social practice it therefore embodied wider community beliefs regarding the defence of plebeian livelihoods and identities.

There has been much historical debate over the role of aristocratic landed families in local and national politics throughout the nineteenth century, and the impact of the First, Second and Third Reform Acts on that role. Additionally, the period from 1881 in the Scottish Highlands was one of acute political and ideological crisis, as the debate over the reform of the Land Laws took a violent turn, and Highland landowners were forced to address the demands of their small tenants. This article addresses these debates, taking as its case-study the ducal house of Sutherland. The Leveson-Gower family owned almost the whole county of Sutherland and until 1884 dominated political life in the region. This article examines the gradual breakdown of that political power, in line with a more general decline in financial and territorial influence, both in terms of the personal role of the Fourth and Fifth Dukes of Sutherland, and the broader impact of the estate management on the mechanics and expectations of politics in the county.

Shepherds were a critical component of the early wool industry in colonial Australia and persisted even after fencing was adopted and rapidly spread in the later nineteenth century. Initially shepherds were convicts, but after transportation ceased in the late 1840s, emancipists and free men were employed. Their duty was the same as in England: look after the flock during the day, and pen them nightly in folds made of hurdles. Analysis of wages and flock sizes indicates that pastoralists achieved good productivity gains with larger flocks but inflation of wages reduced the gains to modest levels. The gold rushes and labour shortages of the 1850s played a minor role in increasing both wages and flock sizes. Living conditions in huts were primitive, and the diet monotonous. Shepherds were exposed to a range of diseases, especially in Queensland. Flock-masters employed non-whites, usually at lower wages, and women and children. Fences only replaced shepherds when pastoralists realised that the new technology of fences, combined with other changes, would give them higher profits. The sheep were left to fend for themselves in the open paddocks, a system used to this day.

How to Write the History of a Parish (1905) by John Charles Cox is a famous early modern history of the parish-state. Yet its author had an eclectic and radical political career in Midlands' life long before he became famous as an historian of English rural life. Today, Cox's radical activities are in fact an important historical prism. His neglected career demonstrates how a strong personality could bring about genuine political change in agricultural life. Cox always focused on the need to fight for the socio-economic and political rights of the labouring poor. At the same time, he was committed to historical research and record collecting, especially that of the vestry in which the poor found a voice. In so doing, he personifies how the boundaries between private interest and public service, the domestic and the political, were sometimes navigated with personal intensity in rural England during the later nineteenth century.

Revision of the early estimates of the extent of labour shortages in agriculture during the Great War suggest that, for England and Wales, labour was more plentiful than contemporaries asserted. However national averages disguise important regional variations. Using newly discovered material from a District Committee of the Westmorland County Agricultural Executive, supplemented with contemporary commentary and reports, this article investigates farm labour shortages in the uplands. It considers labour supply and shows that assumptions about the level of recruitment of farmers and their families and about the availability of substitutes as used in revisionist estimates cannot be supported here. It then shows that the ‘plough up campaign’ imposed by Government increased labour demand in the uplands to a greater extent than in other regions. This combination of reduced supply and increased demand served to exacerbate existing labour shortages and resulted in labour shortages that were more severe than is suggested by the revisionist figures for England and Wales.

This paper takes as its starting-point different perspectives on the organic movement's history since the 1940s. It identifies the polarised views of those who see a linear continuity in its development and of others who claim that a new generation of ‘counter-urbanites’ in the 1970s introduced an entirely distinct element. Drawing on recorded interviews with several of the leading figures in the seventies generation, the article argues that this generation was not as independent of its forebears as some of its members have claimed. It also throws light on the experiences of those who were inspired by the ‘self-sufficiency’ philosophy of John Seymour. The Steinerian Bio-Dynamic movement is identified as an important thread of continuity, as is the role played by two long-lived organic farmers, Dinah Williams and Mary Langman. While the seventies generation indeed affected the organic movement's direction from the 1970s onward, particularly through the Organic Growers Association, the case for a complete disjunction between different phases of organic history remains inadequate.

Writing in 1960 Margaret Stacey asserted that, ‘Women, compared with men, tend to show group characteristics regardless of other social factors like class. Their training from childhood sets them apart from boys and together as potential wives and mothers.’ This article will question whether Oxfordshire women did indeed believe that there was a commonality in their experiences at this time, irrespective of the locality in which they lived or the class to which they belonged, or whether these differences were more significant than their shared gender. The first objective of this article is therefore to analyse the role class played in determining women's experiences of life in Oxfordshire at this time. Leading on from this, the second objective is to investigate the importance of locality upon lived experience, and to engage, in Charles Phythian-Adams' words, in the process of ‘unravelling localized identities’ (1987). Using Oxfordshire as a case study it is possible to examine a range of communities: rural, urban and suburban. This article will demonstrate how the nature of these different communities affected women's experiences of living within them. The third objective is to discuss the ways in which the women I interviewed expressed their experiences of rural living through the oral history interview, and how their accounts relate to contemporary debates and existing historical interpretations.