During the later sixteenth century, increasing competition for wood fuel supplies led to rising tension between Wealden cloth manufacturers and ironmasters and to a prolonged but unsuccessful campaign by clothiers seeking parliamentary legislation that would radically curtail iron production in the Cranbrook area. Remarkably revealing files among the papers of Sir John Leveson, one of Kent's late Elizabethan deputy lieutenants, show that during the winter of 1594–5, Cranbrook's frustrated clothiers and their allies among other chief inhabitants of the parish attempted to hijack plebeian distress over low wages and high food and fuel prices for their own ends. It is unlikely that those devising or encouraging industrial sabotage that winter included Cranbrook's richer clothiers, but they were certainly behind plans to mobilise a mass petition to the crown for the suppression of ironworks. In turn, two of Cranbrook's parish officials, deftly exploiting fears of a disorderly march on London, managed to persuade Sir John Leveson to lobby the privy councillor Lord Cobham on the clothiers’ behalf, although to no avail. Thereafter, Cranbrook clothiers vented their frustration against the Bakers of Sissinghurst, who owned the local iron forge and furnace, by frequently raiding the family's deer park, sometimes in conjunction with local gentry pursuing their passion for unlawful hunting.

Within these pages you will find a ‘jovial crew’: rogues and vagabonds, the ‘mad’ and insane, gypsies, peddlers, poets, playwrights, pilgrims, rioters, convicts, constables, thieves, beggars, landed gentlemen, magistrates, and historians. When parliamentarians and projectors set out to proscribe mobility and legislate poverty in early modernity, a list of untrustworthy trades and professions not at all unlike this one frequently found its way into print and the statute book. The punishment for crimes of vagrancy could be severe, but thankfully ‘historians’ were not counted among the undeserving and mobile, nor would you find magistrates and landed gentlemen taken up, imprisoned, and whipped for a crime of movement. However, all three groups may well deserve some of John Locke's brand of draconian ‘improvement’; historians in particular have taken little account of the lived experiences of the mobile poor until relatively recently. Once we finally took a hard look at our inherited, literature-driven typologies of ‘rogues’ and ‘beggars’, they disappeared in ‘a storm of dust and lies.’ However, the literary, visualised vagabond still has much to tell us, and interdisciplinary approaches to vagrancy in the past have emerged as the strongest method yet of reconstructing the character, history, and cultural perception of the mobile poor. These are methods which the articles in this collection use to full effect.

In a small municipality in the Alentejo region of Portugal, the same group of families, defined by latifundia landownership or tenancy, dominated local political institutions for two centuries during which great changes occurred. Three revolutions resulted in regime transitions: the 1820 Liberal Revolution, the 1910 Republic and the 1926 Dictatorship, which led to Salazar's Estado Novo. Even though a few members of these families offered some resistance to each of these revolutions at an early stage, they all adapted their behaviour and kept local political control within their ranks. Local traditional institutions, such as the local council and mayor, charitable and welfare associations, and corporate institutions created in the 1930s and 1940s to direct economic activities, were all presided over and controlled by members of the same rural elite. This continued until 1974, when the Carnation Revolution and agrarian reform removed and replaced these old elites with new ones. The lords of the land remained lords of the village for as long as control over the main economic resource of the region was the major factor in the maintenance of political power. These land occupations were not permanent. The process was reversed as a result of political factors relating to Portugal's accession to the European Economic Community in 1986. Agrarian elites in Southern Portugal no longer control jobs or the economy and therefore they no longer control local politics as they had for several generations. The Carnation Revolution and agrarian reform removed the old elites and replaced them with new ones. Agriculture is no longer the main economic activity of the countryside. The rural environment has become a hiking ground or an all-terrain vehicles track. The future is elsewhere and the current economic situation and the absence of elites have transformed rural areas into depopulated regions.

In this article I ask what it means for cartographical, social, economic and political understandings of poverty and mobility when the ‘geography of vagrancy’, as A. L. Beier termed it, is re-staged and reconfigured in specific acts of writing and even specific acts of walking. Invoking a range of public performances as well as print and manuscript publications by recognised literary figures of the day, including work by Ben Jonson and John Taylor, I concentrate on one particular literary remaking of the everyday experiences of the mobile poor in Taylor's 1618 published pamphlet The Pennyles Pilgrimage or The Money-lesse perambulation, of Iohn Taylor, Alias the Kings Majesties Water-Poet. What Taylor understood when engaging with the ‘geography of vagrancy’ in his challenging text was that the act of mapping the spatial world of the itinerant poor required considerable thought not only about the spaces inhabited, albeit temporarily, or travelled through, but also the ways in which the mobile poor performed such spaces. In turn, Taylor's own performance can be understood as a contradictory act of commercial enterprise and self-promotion as well as one that gives literary historians significant access to contemporary imaginings of the specific socioeconomic and spatial conditions of poverty and mobility.

Despite the growing significance of the ideology of domesticity and changing farming practices, late nineteenth and early twentieth-century Irish farmwives continued to have an active economic role on the farm. The continuation of their economic role reflected wider cultural beliefs that saw work as central to claims to property ownership, reinforced by the growth in the language of economic and political rights during the nineteenth century, which shaped how men and women understood work, ownership and personal rights.

Madness has been a social problem from time immemorial. Wealthy lunatics were made royal wards so that their estates would be looked after, and the common law very early admitted madness and idiocy as conditions justifying the exemption of the sufferer from punishments for crime. But the vast majority of lunatics have never been either criminal or wealthy, and many wandered about begging, unwelcome in any settled community. Finally, in the eighteenth century, the law made some attempt to determine a course of action which would protect the public and theoretically also the lunatic. This legislation and its application in practice to protect the public, contain the lunatic, and deal with the nuisance caused by those ‘disordered in their senses’, form the subject of this article. Much has been written about the development of psychiatry, mainly from contemporary medical texts, and about the treatment of lunatics in institutions, chiefly from nineteenth-century sources, but much remains to be discovered from archival sources about the practicalities of dealing with lunatics at parish level, particularly how they were defined as lunatics, who made such decisions, and how they were treated in homes and workhouses.

Alastair Fowler has written, with reference to the time of Milton, of ‘Latin's special role in a bilingual culture’, and this was still true in the early eighteenth century. The education of the elite placed great emphasis on the art of writing Latin verse and modern, as well as ancient, writers of Latin continued to be widely read. Collections of Latin verse, by individual writers such as Vincent Bourne (c. 1694–1747) or by groups such as Westminster schoolboys or bachelors of Christ Church, Oxford, could run into multiple editions, and included poems on a wide range of contemporary topics, as well as reworkings of classical themes. This paper examines a number of eighteenth-century Latin poems dealing with beggars, several of which are here translated for the first time. Particular attention is paid to the way in which the Latin poems recycled well-worn tropes about beggary which were often at variance with the experience of real-life beggars, and to how the specificities of Latin verse might heighten negative representations of beggars in a genre which, as a manifestation of elite culture, appealed to the very class which was politically and legally responsible for controlling them.

Based on conventional learning and supported in no small measure by stereotypes, agriculture as a vocation was not considered as part of the occupational profile of Jewish society in Eastern Europe until the Second World War. However, various studies show that in different regions in this area, primarily Lithuania, White Russia, north eastern Poland, and Bessarabia, tens of thousands of Jews made a living from direct engagement in various branches of agriculture, including field crops, orchards, lake fishing, etc. These Jews lived mainly in the rural areas and were a factor, and at times a highly significant one, in the local demographic and economic structure. The first part of this article examines the question whether these Jews, who were part of the general rural society living in the countryside, developed a certain type of rural cultural identity. This question is discussed by examining various aspects of their attitude towards nature. The second part of the article considers the possible influence of the agricultural occupation on the shaping of a unique peasant cultural identity among these rural Jews and the ways they coped with the accompanying religious, social and cultural implications.

This article surveys 226 affiliation cases from South Wales between 1870 and 1900. Detailed study reveals both the reasons why most women did not try to get maintenance, but also why they had high levels of success when they did so. Once a woman got to the hearing, the interests of magistrates and the poor law guardians helped them ‘find fathers’ for their children. The guardians in particular assisted women in bringing cases by the 1890s. The fact that affiliation suits centred on sexuality by definition meant that magistrates did not penalise women for sexual nonconformity any more than the men involved, although both sexes faced limitations on their behaviour. These cases also reveal a great deal about local customs and attitudes towards sexuality. In the end, affiliation suits merely removed the most glaring abuses rather than tackling the larger issue of support for unmarried mothers and their children.

This article outlines the changing character of vagrant removal from the City of London during the 1780s, suggesting that the City largely abandoned its duty to ‘punish’ the vagrant poor in favour of a policy of simply moving them on as quickly and cheaply as possible. After describing the impact of the destruction of Newgate and the resulting overcrowding in London's other prisons, it provides evidence for a dramatic increase in vagrant numbers. The article suggests that this change was both a direct result of the crises of imprisonment, transportation and punishment that followed the Gordon Riots and American war; and a result of growing demand for the transportation provided to vagrants, on the part of the migratory poor. Having established the existence of a changing pattern of vagrant removal, it suggests that the poor increasingly made use of the City of London, and the system of removal, to access transportation in pursuit of seasonal migration, and more significantly, medical care in the hospitals of the capital as part of a wider ‘economy of makeshift’.

This article considers the ways in which clothing is represented in selected work of Thomas Hardy in the context of wider social and economic change in nineteenth-century English rural society. While taking into account the difficulties of using fictional literature in this way, I suggest that it is precisely Hardy's subjectivity that makes his observations so compelling and that his perception of change lies at the heart of his representation of dress. I endeavour to show how in his writing, the perceived tension between an unchanging, idealised, countryside increasingly subjected to the influence of an urban culture is frequently expressed, either directly or metaphorically, in terms of clothing. The social and economic changes, including agricultural change, of which Hardy was so acutely aware, help to account for the disappearance of traditional features of rural dress, such as the smock-frock and the sun-bonnet. In their place were adopted styles influenced by notions of ‘fashion’ and made available through the process of mass production which Hardy associated primarily with towns. For Hardy, the influence of urban fashions alienated people from that individuality and speciality in dress which formed a link with their environment and ultimately their own past and history.

This article considers how depictions of the migrant poor in English landscape art changed between 1740 and 1900. A painting by Edward Haytley (1744) is used to illustrate some prevailing themes and representations of the rural poor in the early eighteenth century, with the labouring poor being shown ‘in their place’ socially and spatially. This is then contrasted with the signs of a restless and migrant poor which appear in a few of Gainsborough's paintings, culminating in the poverty-stricken roadside, mobile, vagrant and sometimes gypsy poor who are so salient and sympathetically depicted in George Morland's work between 1790 and 1804. While there were clearly British and European precedents for such imagery long before this period, it is argued here that English landscape art after about 1750, and especially from c. 1790, witnessed a marked upsurge of such restless and migrant imagery, which was related to institutional and demographic transformations in agrarian societies. By George Morland's death in 1804, ‘social realism’ had become firmly established in his imagery of the migrant poor, and this long predated the 1860s and 1870s which are normally associated with such a movement in British painting.