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The article focuses on deductible casualty losses, or tax deduction that can be obtained by landlords for losses due to a sudden event like fire or flood and losses due to vandalism or theft. It discusses the special rules that apply to damage or destruction to business property caused by a federally declared disaster. Guidelines for calculating a casualty loss deduction are also provided.

The article presents definitions of criminology terms that start with letter L. Larceny is a form of theft that involves taking the personal property of a person without permission and with the motive of permanently removing possession of its owner. Lesser included offenses are criminal accusations that have similar elements of a serious crime but have lower levels of punishment. Other terms include loitering and life without parole.

The article discusses various issues concerning the documentation process of the invention, as well as the so called provisional patent application (PPA). It presents several reasons why documentation is important for an invention, including as proof in case of an interference, as proof in case of confusion of inventorship, and as proof in case of theft. Among the other topics that are discussed are the laboratory notebook, as well as how to enter technical data in the notebook.

The article focuses on tax deductions for casualty and theft losses in real property. It states that casualty losses for real property can be subjected to tax deductions if the cause of the losses is due to sudden and unexpected events. It mentions that theft or vandalizing of real property can be obtained as a casualty loss deduction. It adds that casualty losses must be documented by the property owner as part of compliance to the U.S. Internal Revenue Service (IRS).

Chapter 5 of the book "Stopping Identity Theft," is presented. It offers information on six of the top scams that identity theft criminals use to get hold of people's sensitive and personal information. It includes fake survey scams or pretexting which aims to receive social security number, bank or credit card numbers, and other personal information, under false pretenses. Further it presents suggestions for tackling tax scams, lottery or contest scam, and phishing scam.

The article focuses on specific threats such as theft, sabotage, unauthorized access, illegal transfer and malicious acts that are largely dealt with through material protection, control and accounting (MPC&A) for any given nuclear facilities. It provides an overview of nuclear security in fairly non-technical terms so that the discussions of the cultural aspects of security can be kept in context.

The quantity of surviving legislative material from late medieval Italy is astounding and unmanageable. In the eighteenth century, Muratori spoke of it as a forest covering the whole of Italy. Estimates of the number of volumes of statutes run to thousands. For many cities, there are two or more printed editions: one redaction printed in the late fifteenth century, and an earlier redaction edited by nineteenth- or twentieth-century scholars. Verona, Ferrara, Modena and Lucca are typical examples: fifteenth-century redactions of their statutes were printed in 1475, 1476, 1487 and 1490, respectively; and earlier versions (1288, 1308, 1327) in the late nineteenth or twentieth centuries. But between those redactions, other versions of the statutes either survive, unpublished, in the archives (as in Lucca), or do not survive at all (as in Ferrara). Bologna has seven unpublished redactions of its statutes from years between 1355 and 1454. The process by which a redaction is chosen for publication has been criticised as highly arbitrary and anarchic: the later twentieth century saw an unco-ordinated flood of new editions, some of which led to the publication of minor texts while major texts were left languishing in the archives. Moreover, the statutes, as Andrea Zorzi has recently pointed out, represent only one part of the ‘normative fabric’, for alongside them was the ongoing legislation of decrees and ordinances (bandi, decreta, provvigioni, riformaggioni). These were, in Philip Jones's phrase, ‘incessant and innumerable’. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

When writing the history of medieval crime, historians often have to rely on documentation that represents the end-product of a process: sentences or records of fines paid or to be collected. The disadvantage of this approach is that it cannot take account of the context within which those documents were produced. The records from some Italian cities, however, do permit a study of the whole process of trials, from initial denunciation through to sentence. Especially, they show different narrative levels: the primary level (which historians often ignore) is the narrative of the trial itself, and the secondary level (which historians often prefer) is the narrative of the crime. The aim of this chapter is to rescue the primary narrative, and to examine the secondary narrative within a comparative framework. First, though, we need to examine a third narrative, that which historians have created for the evolution of the trial system in the later Middle Ages. Narrative of the trial system A standard view, in Italian legal history, of the development of the criminal trial traces a narrative of growing arbitrary power. The starting point of such an account is the early thirteenth century, when there were already two modes of prosecution, by accusation and by inquest. These were subsequently modified in the context of the growth of public authority and urban criminality. Trial by accusation was an open, public debate, which had to follow certain prescribed forms, shared with civil litigation. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

INTRODUCTION This chapter examines the contribution of methodological differences to divergence when comparing crimes reported to the Uniform Crime Reporting System (UCR) and National Crime Victimization Survey (NCVS). This study focuses on differences in population coverage and crime counting rules between the two series. Population coverage differences concern the UCR's inclusion of commercial and nonindividual victims and its inclusion of individual victims of all ages. Crime counting rule variations include the application of the UCR's Hierarchy Rule and the UCR's consideration of robberies as property offenses as opposed to crimes against a person. Understanding the extent to which these differences play a role in divergence between the UCR and NCVS is important to better ascertain whether this divergence is an artifact of methodologies or the result of substantive issues. Although the methodological differences between the UCR and NCVS are easy to identify, they are much more difficult to quantify. As a result, little is known about the extent, if any, to which these differences contribute to divergence. Researchers have attempted to adjust each series to account for these differences (see Chapter 4, this volume, for a summary). These adjustments, however, are only approximations. The UCR's traditional summary reporting system does not collect the incident details necessary to measure these differences accurately and inform about potential sources of divergence. Currently the UCR is in the process of a substantial conversion from its aggregate system (“the summary system”) to the National Incident-Based Reporting System (NIBRS), which, as its name suggests, collects incident-level data. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

INTRODUCTION The National Crime Survey (NCS, now the National Crime Victimization Survey, or NCVS) was originally designed to provide a check against the crime statistics voluntarily provided to the FBI's Uniform Crime Reporting (UCR) Program by police departments (President's Commission, 1967, p. 21). Pilot surveys (Biderman et al., 1967; Ennis, 1967) had confirmed the widespread belief that many crimes are not reported to the police, the so-called “dark figure” of crime, so a survey would provide information about the nature and extent of unreported crime. Because the survey – which gathers data directly from household residents concerning victimizations they may have experienced over the past six months – provides a more direct check on the true amount of crime, it is considered superior to the UCR for this purpose. There are also reasons that the UCR may be considered superior to the NCVS. After all, the UCR is a complete count of crimes reported to the police, whereas the NCVS is based on a sample of crimes recalled by citizens aged 12 years and older, in 45,000 randomly selected households, which occurred within the past 6 months. A complete count has no sampling error, whereas the sampling error for the NCVS exists – and is growing as financial considerations dictate reductions in sample size. Moreover, the detailed nature of UCR reporting makes it possible to look at specific time patterns (hour of day, day of week or month) and places where crime is occurring, a specificity that is not available using the NCVS. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Researchers seeking to provide a better understanding of crime statistics tend to compare survey-based statistics such as the National Crime Victimization Survey (NCVS) with data from police administrative series like the Uniform Crime Reports (UCR). Because these two types of data collections systems are so different, simple direct comparisons are of little value regarding limitations inherent to a particular data collection system (McDowall and Loftin, this volume). This chapter explores the NCVS data using a different perspective that compares data from the national crime survey of population with those from a national survey of establishments – the National Hospital Ambulatory Care Survey (NHAMCS). This comparison provides an understanding of how the design, instrumentation, and procedures of the NCVS may influence estimates of interpersonal violence, particularly that component of violence resulting in injuries treated in hospital emergency rooms. The estimates of emergency room visits for injuries due to violence obtained from the NCVS are considerably smaller than those from the NHAMCS. The analyses include a series of adjustments to these estimates that explore the role of features specific to each survey in the observed differences. The household sampling frame employed in the NCVS receives special attention as a potential source of the observed differences. Investigating this source of divergence is particularly important because many of our major social indicators on the economy and participation in government programs depend upon household surveys. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

One goal of Understanding Crime Statistics is to encourage and facilitate the appropriate use of crime statistics through a discussion of the divergence of the Uniform Crime Reports (UCR) and the National Crime Victimization Survey (NCVS). We also seek to build on the idea of complementarity, which originated from the work of Biderman and Lynch (1991). Specifically, Biderman and Lynch's work makes two important points concerning crime statistics. One is that all statistical systems will distort to some degree the data produced and the important lesson for researchers is to understand how this occurs so that appropriate adjustments can be made. The second point is that it is virtually impossible to get statistical systems that are organized as differently as the NCVS and the UCR to tell the same story across the board. Given these two points, Biderman and Lynch concluded that energy and resources were better invested in discovering ways to use these data systems in complementary rather than competing ways. Although the principle of complementarity seems to be widely accepted today, this acceptance may be fickle. Complementarity has not received a real test because of the coincidence that the two series have tracked reasonably well for more than a decade. When the two series diverge, and history tells us that they will, ready explanations for this divergence must be available as well as examples of very specific ways in which the two systems (even in a divergent state) can be used jointly to shed new light on the crime problem. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Whether crime rates from the Uniform Crime Reporting System (UCR) and National Crime Victimization Survey (NCVS) converge with each other has been a matter of substantial research interest since before the NCVS formally began. Lack of convergence would not necessarily raise questions about the validity of either data system because each might measure a different set of phenomena. The UCR and NCVS nevertheless share almost identical definitions of criminal offenses, and agreement between them would support the idea that neither is hopelessly in error. Strong evidence that they diverge would correspondingly complicate policy and academic uses of the data because one's findings might vary with the system. A selective list of studies that consider convergence appears in Table 4.1. Perhaps the most notable feature of the list is the steady pace of research, beginning with early developmental work on the NCVS and continuing to the present. One might take this as showing that the convergence–divergence issue is important to criminologists and that it remains largely unresolved. This chapter considers how one might define and measure convergence. Others have already evaluated the most straightforward definitions, and much of the chapter therefore reviews the existing literature. Throughout, the presentation uses the terms convergence and divergence as antonyms, employing whichever term is more convenient in context. The next sections present a series of four definitions that follow a rough progression from more demanding to less demanding in their requirements for how closely the systems must agree. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Historically the National Crime Victimization Survey (NCVS) and the Uniform Crime Reports (UCR) have provided different estimates of crime at the national level. Of the two, the NCVS traditionally reported more crime than recorded by police. In 2001, however, the number of serious violent crimes recorded by the police exceeded the number of crimes that victims said they reported to the police in the NCVS. This recent correspondence is the culmination of more than a decade of gradual convergence and raises important issues regarding the measurement of serious violent crime, particularly over time. One of these issues is whether changes in the methodology employed in the NCVS could be contributing to the convergence with UCR estimates. Research shows that methodological change in the NCVS creates within series variation over time (Biderman and Lynch, 1991), yet the effect of such change remains largely ignored since the NCVS redesign in the early 1990s. This chapter examines whether the recent convergence between reported crimes in the NCVS and recorded crimes in the UCR is influenced by long-term methodological change in the victimization survey. The chapter opens with an outline of the methodological changes to the survey and their potential effect on correspondence; a discussion of data sources and the construction of the variables used in the subsequent analysis follows. The results indicate that, except for changes in response rates and to a lesser extent computer-assisted telephone interviewing (CATI), changes in the NCVS design had minimal effect on the observed correspondence of the two series. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

For the past 30 years, the Uniform Crime Reporting System (UCR) and the National Crime Victimization Survey (NCVS), which includes its predecessor the National Crime Survey (NCS), have been the two sources of national level estimates of crime in the United States as well as estimates of changes in crime rates. During most of this time, the two series have presented a consistent picture of crime trends. Episodically, however, the two series diverge. Initially this divergence produced ill-informed debates about which series was the better indicator of crime, built around the assumption that only one data source could be correct. These debates motivated researchers to examine the issue of divergence (see Chapter 4, this volume, for a summary). One of the most significant works arising from this body of work is the 1991 book Understanding Crime Incidence Statistics: Why the UCR Diverges from the NCS written by Albert Biderman and one of the coeditors of the current volume, James Lynch. Biderman and Lynch's work used the divergence of the UCR–NCS trends as a vehicle for explaining how each data series measures crime differently and for emphasizing that it was acceptable (and even expected) for the two data series to diverge. Their work had two important results. First, it helped quell the “which is better” debates. Second, their work established a foundation for today's commonly held perception that the two indicators are complementary as opposed to competing and that each system should enlighten the portion of the crime problem it is best equipped to address. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

If we knew more about the character of both offenders and victims, the nature of their relationships and the circumstances that create a high probability of crime conduct, it seems likely that crime prevention and control programs could be made much more effective. For more than 30 years, the National Crime Victimization Survey (NCVS) and its predecessor the National Crime Survey (NCS) have provided detailed information about the nature and extent of personal and property victimization in the United States. Much of our current understanding about crime, such as the most vulnerable segments of the population, the proportion of crime involving weapons, the types of injuries sustained in violent crimes, and the extent of reporting to police, is derived from the NCS and NCVS. The NCVS also serves as a model for victimization surveys implemented throughout the world because it incorporates many innovative methodological protocols that enhance its ability to produce reliable estimates of the nature and extent of criminal victimization. These methodological techniques combined with the large sample size and the extensive details collected by the survey on crime events are all reasons that the current NCVS remains the “most comprehensive and systematic survey of victims in the United States” (Mosher et al., 2002, p. 137). The NCVS and the Uniform Crime Reporting System (UCR) comprise the two ongoing national measures of crime in the United States. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

In 1927, the International Association of Chiefs of Police convened the Committee on Uniform Crime Records to provide much-needed information on crime trends for the nation. This small beginning was the result of years of contemplation and expressed desires by law enforcement to create a program that would afford a unified vision of the crime problem in the United States as well as provide law enforcement executives the means to compare their jurisdiction with others more easily. One of the first official mentions of the need to create a crime statistics program occurred in 1871 at a convention in St. Louis. Police executives approved a resolution “to procure and digest statistics for the use of police departments” (Official Proceedings of the National Police Convention, 1871, p. 30). Ultimately, the creation of the Uniform Crime Reporting Program would require more than 50 years of continual effort to secure support and funding before the IACP formed the Committee on Uniform Crime Records to fulfill this need. One of the major issues that arose during the Committee's deliberations concerned the creation of a uniform data collection method that would convert the disparate state and local laws and definitions into one standardized system. In its finalized format, the IACP created a program based on seven standardized offense definitions, which became the centerpiece of the Uniform Crime Reporting (UCR) Program. In 1930, the UCR Program's first year of data collection, 400 law enforcement agencies in 43 states reported data to the Federal Bureau of Investigation. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Terrorist and people belonging to criminal networks always use fake or illegally obtained documents and visas to cover and hide their real identity. Sometimes these documents (most of all passports) are stolen in western countries by criminal organisations, or people connected with them, and used by terrorists and criminals to travel from a country to another. Usually, at an international level, this kind of thefts is seriously unevaluated, and investigations are not properly organised or co-ordinated: this allows criminal networks to carry on in a profitable way their illegal activities. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Chapter 44 of the book "Wilfrid Cumbermede" is presented. It narrates the incidents occurred after Geoffrey Brotherton claimed that Wilfrid Cumbermede stole the sword from the armoury of Moldwarp Hall. It also describes the plan and strategies of Cumbermede on how to deal the situation with the help of his friend Charley Osborne.

Chapter 11 of the book "Resurrection," by Count Leo Tolstoy is presented. It highlights the event after the reading of the indictment, in which Euphemia Botchkova and Katerina Maslova were accused of stealing money from a portmanteau belonging to the merchant Smelkoff. It adds that Botchkova, together with Simeon Kartinkin and Maslova, gave poison to the merchant, thereby causing his death.

Chapter 9 of the book "Laddie," by Gene Stratton Porter is presented. It focuses on the theft of money by a traveller whom the Stanton family had allowed to stay at their house. It also presents the doubts of the character Stanton that his son Leon might have helped the traveller in committing the theft.

“Every man who has understanding enough to acquire property and to know his own,” Tustanagee Hopoy (Little Prince) and Tuskegee Tustanagee stated in 1809, “ought to know his neighbours property and in a country of Laws and property should be made to respect it.” Though these Lower Creek leaders, objecting to the theft of their cattle by Georgians, surely enjoyed addressing whites with rhetoric usually directed at Native Americans, they spoke only partially in irony. Their admonishment also reflected the lessons of hard-won experience, for Creeks themselves had recently begun to covet and acquire property. The words of Benjamin Hawkins neatly summed up the process: The Creeks “tasted the sweets of civilization” and “began to know the value of property and the necessity of defending it.” Some of them became desirous of its accumulation, uneasy about its security, and violent in its defense. In the last three years of the eighteenth century, these changes, whose early origins and subsequent development will be traced in this chapter, culminated when Creeks under the direction of Hawkins formed a national police force to make recalcitrant Muskogees respect their neighbors' property. Understanding these developments clearly requires examination of the local dynamics of Creek history. But it also demands attention to more general and far-reaching changes in this period, when the Atlantic economy and U.S. government invaded once autonomous regions throughout North America. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

In September 1811, sixteen Shawnees, nineteen Choctaws, forty-six Cherokees, and two or three unidentified native groups met Creek leaders and warriors in the square ground of Tuckabatche, the Upper Creek town on the Tallapoosa River. Led by the Shawnee warrior Tecumseh, the delegation had come with important news. Among literate peoples, the weight of the information might have been conveyed with official documents, perhaps marked by seals. Tecumseh instead carried a pipe whose purpose, Benjamin Hawkins explained, was “to unite all the red people in a war against the white people.” Tecumseh hoped to form a military alliance between the Creeks and the Shawnees, Delawares, and other Indians of the Old Northwest. The Shawnees had long occupied a position between the native peoples of the Old Northwest and the Southeast. Scattered many times by their enemies, they had fled in the seventeenth century from the Ohio to the Cumberland River, and from there, breaking into two groups, to the lower Susquehanna River in Pennsylvania and the head of the Savannah River in Georgia and South Carolina. By the middle 1700s, Shawnee settlements stretched from the Susquehanna west down the Ohio to the mouth of the Cumberland. Some Shawnees also lived among the Upper Creeks in a town called Sawanogee on the Tallapoosa. These peregrinations encouraged the Shawnees to act as go-betweens, and as early as the 1760s, they were brokering Indian alliances against the British and carrying “long belts and great talks from all the Northward Nations” to the South. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

In the opening years of the nineteenth century, Seminoles mounted an organized resistance to the new order spreading across the Deep South. Buoyed by the return of William Augustus Bowles at the end of 1799 and by his renewed promises of British support, they joined with the adventurer to raid Spanish settlements. For a brief period in late May and June 1800, Seminoles succeeded in taking the Spanish fort on the St. Marks River below present-day Tallahassee. Thereafter, they raided plantations, stealing slaves and destroying property, until the Spanish captured Bowles in late May 1803. Though Bowles intended to establish and profit from a regular trade between British merchants in the Bahamas and Florida Indians, Seminoles had their own reasons for participating in his plans. According to Tuskegee Tustanagee, they believed that by harassing the Spanish and dividing the Creeks, “the United States or Spain will give them presents as the British formerly did for the sake of union among the Indians and a firm peace between them and the white people.” The political ferment in Florida might have led directly to a conflict between dissidents and supporters of the new order except that an eight-year stretch of famine and disease intervened beginning in 1804. During the hungry years, as Muskogees called this period, wealthy Creeks continued to fare well, while hunters and hoers suffered without relief. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Caleb Swan, who visited the Deep South in 1791, wrote of the Creeks: Every individual has so high an opinion of his own importance and independency, that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to impress on the community at large the necessity of any social compact, that should be binding upon it longer than common danger threatened them with the loss of their lands and hunting ranges. Like earlier observers, Swan was struck by the difference between Muskogee and European political organization. Creek leaders, as Chigellie and Antioche had explained to Georgians in the 1730s, relied solely on persuasion to command their people. By contrast, the governments familiar to Swan often resorted to coercion, a power ostensibly granted in the social contract between ruler and ruled. Swan keenly observed that Muskogees had no similar binding contract. In fact, they did not even think in such terms. Yet, in the 1780s and 1790s, a few mestizos and other Creeks began forging a social compact, forcing it on the mostly unwilling inhabitants of the region. In the language of European political theory, promoters of the compact violated natural rights; in the language of the Creeks, they supplanted fair persuasions with the tomahawk. The emerging compact dictated that the Creeks turn over judicial and political authority, which had traditionally resided in the clans, to a small number of “national leaders” who would act for the good of the “nation.” Creeks objected to the compact on two grounds. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Chapter 25 of the book "Border Crossing," by Maria Colleen Cruz is presented. It relates the situation wherein the things of a girl named Cesi were stolen and his companion Tony assisted her to be calm. It tells that Cesi and Tony had an argument when Tony thought that Cesi was implying that the people who stole money from her were Mexicans.

The article provides an overview of U.S. court cases pertaining to premarital controversies. A court concluded that Lori Postal failed to carry the statutory burden of proof placed on persons seeking money damages for a breach of promise or contract of marriage. On appeal, a man argued that the trial court erroneously granted judgment in favor of a former partner on his claim of entitlement to the purchase price of the stolen engagement ring, which he had given to her in contemplation of marriage.

This chapter examines the manifestation of public witchcraft suppression practices in Ulanga District, historically and in the present. Movements for the suppression of witchcraft have swept across south eastern and central Africa throughout the twentieth century. Perhaps the best documented is kamcape, observed at different places and points in its history by Audrey Richards, Max Marwick and Roy Willis. The practice of such movements tends to be similar. They are often associated with a single practitioner, either based at a cult centre or on whose authority itinerant specialists work. Their ritual practice is generally public, involving groups of people or even entire villages. It centres on the use of medicine that both suppresses the powers of witches and protects potential victims from witchcraft attack. Often, both witches and accusers participate and receive the same treatment, a key component of which entails the purification of clients. This is achieved by washing parts of the body in special medicines thought to have cleansing, as well as anti-witchcraft properties. The anti-witchcraft medicine of kamcape was explicitly associated with cleansing, the very name of the movement being derived from the verb ‘to clean’ or ‘to scrub’ (Richards 1935: 149; Willis 1968: 8; Marwick 1950: 100). In the Tanzanian movements, this purification sometimes involves shaving off the hair, hence witchcraft suppression practices are talked about in terms of ‘shaving witchcraft’ (Redmayne 1970: 114; Green 1994). [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Neither Cameroon nor Tanganyika ever belonged to the most important coffee producers in Africa, let alone in the world. However, coffee was crucial to the economic, social, and cultural transformation of some African societies during the first half of the twentieth century. In this chapter, I compare the Kilimanjaro region of Northern Tanganyika and the highlands of West Cameroon, giving special consideration to two basic factors of production: land and labor. These two regions were centers of coffee production in colonial times, and kept this role after independence. The chapter aims to demonstrate how both internal factors and external political and economic interests led to specific land and labor patterns. The production of a crop such as coffee for the international market imposes certain common conditions on agricultural economies, notably, for the combination of land, labor, and capital. In much of colonial Africa, there was a complex shift from communal land ownership, albeit often with individual usufruct, to individual ownership. Agricultural commercialization during the colonial period stimulated individual claims to land, and land sales, in many African communities. The expansion of cash crops also had a strong influence on changing patterns of land use. Since coffee is a permanent crop, in many regions land was no longer used for two or three years before being abandoned, but was occupied on a permanent basis. Crop production often led to large-scale recruitment of nondomestic labor and provided new opportunities for accumulation. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Coffee plantations in Ceylon (Sri Lanka) were developed in the early nineteenth century under British colonial rule, and they were to dominate the economic development of the island until the last quarter of the century. This chapter is concerned with how the ideologies and practices concerning race, caste, and gender differences were incorporated into labor relations on these plantations. It shows how local government policies favored European ownership and helped to sustain differences between the latter and local entrepreneurs. It deals with the recruitment of a “foreign” Indian work force to service the needs of coffee plantations, and how workers were kept isolated from the rest of society. It analyses how race, caste, patriarchy, and indebtedness were used as methods of labor control, both in the recruitment of labor and in the organization of work on the estates. In effect, it is a study of how extraeconomic forms of coercion were effective in promoting the interests of European capitalist production. The Bias toward European Ownership on Coffee Plantations British colonial rule in Ceylon coincided with the establishment of industrial capitalism in Western Europe. Parts of Ceylon were occupied by Britain in 1795, but the whole island did not come under British administrative control until 1815. This was the period when the policy of laissez-faire was beginning to be heralded in England as the most effective way of increasing wealth. In addition, there was increasing pressure from London on colonial governments to reduce expenditure. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Introduction Coffee production on Réunion (Bourbon), a small island near Madagascar off the coast of Africa, was significant in the eighteenth century, but declined rapidly thereafter. Réunion Creoles then carried the coffee frontier to Madagascar, conquered by France in 1895. Colonial policies made coffee the major Malagasy export by the 1930s and, inadvertently, promoted indigenous smallholder production. The subsequent battle over resources between Réunion Creoles and their Malagasy competitors on the East Coast was a major cause of the 1947 uprising, one of the most bloody episodes in French colonial history. The revolt effectively squeezed small Creole planters out of coffee, leaving a handful of large metropolitan French concerns and numerous small indigenous cultivators. The 1972 revolution led to the demise of large French companies and ushered in a period of mismanaged nationalization that undermined the entire economy, including the coffee sector. Réunion, 1711–1895 Wild Mauritiana coffee was discovered, growing at an altitude of over 600 meters, near St. Paul on Réunion in 1711. Popularly termed “café marron,” it was said that “the most subtle connoisseurs can in no way distinguish [it] … from Mocha coffee.” From 1720, English and Dutch ships purchased Mauritiana coffee, and it was well received in France in 1721. However, Mauritiana prospered only at high altitude and was pronounced less smooth, less perfumed, and more bitter than Mocha, favored by the French East India Company, which governed Réunion from 1708 to 1758. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Coffee commodity chains serve as a bidirectional link between producers and consumers worldwide, and they also interconnect local processes and those taking place in overseas markets. Historically, there has been an extraordinary diversity in the ways in which cultivation, harvesting, transport, processing, and export of coffee have been organized. Consumption patterns and especially consumer preferences have changed over time in ways that need to be taken into account but whose effect on coffee producers throughout the tropical world varies considerably in accordance with local situations and dynamics. Coffee farmers' responses to changing external conditions have been far from uniform, and cannot be explained merely as passive reflections of world market trends and fluctuations. This chapter uses the development of Costa Rican coffee production and commercialization, together with brief references to other cases, as a starting point for comparative discussion of interactions between local agroecological, economic, and social conditions, on the one hand, and changes in the international market for this product, on the other. Special attention is paid to the process by which producers of a given country – in this case Costa Rica – come to produce coffee with certain specific attributes that consumers abroad appreciate and for which they are willing to pay. The Costa Rican coffee commodity chain is compared, in passing, to other ones where “high-quality” coffee is produced and subsequently traded under various arrangements, but with substantial – though, of course, variable – smallholder participation at least in cultivation and sometimes in processing and/or transportation. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The Tudors granted their pardons from a variety of motives and pretexts, to serve ends both implicit and explicit. Some they used to celebrate new beginnings; others they issued as tokens of gratitude. The Tudors employed pardons to present themselves as God's merciful justiciars and to help cement the allegiance of the governing elite. Pardons encouraged widespread complicity in the increasingly bloody system of justice that characterized the early modern state. Janus-like, they selected some to live and thereby sanctioned the death of others. But why, specifically, did some offenders receive pardon and others not? The necessity of conforming to widely shared perceptions of justice and mercy ensured that some would obtain pardon, but on what grounds did the Tudors choose the individual recipients of their grace? This chapter turns from the abstractions and macro-processes of state formation to look more closely at individual experiences of authority. It first examines the official correspondence surrounding pardons, petitions for mercy, and the pardons themselves to delineate the various characteristics of offenses and offenders that shaped these decisions. Some pardons freed the wrongly convicted, while others issued automatically from Chancery for crimes that the law deemed excusable; most pardons, however, remained gifts of royal grace, recognizing varying degrees of culpability, penitence, and potential for reform. The chapter then explores the processes through which petitioners sought, and sovereigns granted, remission. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

In July of 1582, Agnes Waters and four other women of the town of Godalming faced the fearsome spectacle of the queen's justices at the Kingston assizes. The women found themselves caught in the ever-widening gaze of the state, standing trial for a crime only recently defined at law: witchcraft. A jury acquitted the other women, but Waters admitted that she had in fact bewitched ten bullocks and a cow to their deaths. While Waters had the misfortune of being charged under one of the many new statutes, she was saved from punishment by something else that became more readily available in these years: a royal pardon. Punishment and mercy coexisted as strategies of power in the increasingly centralized, increasingly intrusive Tudor state. Both shaped the exercise and experience of authority. In conjunction with the growth in the scope and severity of the law emerged a set of changes that demonstrated the increasing importance of mercy and ensured that people might more easily avail themselves of its benefits. Pardons became more frequent as the years passed, an increase helped in part by changes to the methods with which the Tudors distributed and displayed their clemency. Although late medieval kings had sporadically issued proclamations or statutes of general pardon that offered forgiveness for a host of offenses, these devices appeared with much greater frequency in the sixteenth century and became a standard part of parliamentary business. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Of the sixty-six individuals presented by local constables at the Canterbury quarter sessions in January and July of 1602, forty-four found themselves facing the court for offenses newly defined in the preceding century. Certainly, some were named for assaults and petty thefts that would have earned them a court appearance well before the Tudor years. Elizabeth Roskell, who dug her scythe into Thomas Prichard's back, and Thomas Allen, who nabbed for himself a pair of stockings, would have met with the same fate had they done their deeds long before. On the other hand, John Underdown and John Church had their names brought to the justices' attention for selling ale without license or at prices higher than those set by law, thus violating statutes passed over the last fifty years. Along with other local constables, William Austin and Roger Pattenson were named for their failure to hand over assessments for the support of poor prisoners in a timely fashion, a duty newly imposed in the early 1530s. William Uncle, a butcher from Headcorn, had erected a new fence that encroached on the highway between Snagges Forstal and Water Street. Uncle found that his fence not only inconvenienced his neighbors, but also violated a twenty-seven-year-old statute. Fully two-thirds of the individuals presented at these court sessions were accused of violating laws new to the Tudor period. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

We first proceeded with an epidemiological investigation comparing convictions for criminal offences among subjects in the five groups. Three groups of subjects had been admitted to a psychiatric ward by age 30: (1) those with diagnoses of major mental disorders; (2) those with alcohol and/or drug related disorders; (3) those with other disorders. A fourth group of subjects were mentally retarded, and the fifth group is composed of all those cohort members who had never been admitted to a psychiatric ward nor to a special stream in school for retarded children. PREVALENCE OF CRIMINALITY AMONG THE PROJECT METROPOLITAN SUBJECTS Table 4.1 presents the percentages and numbers of subjects in each group that had been convicted of at least one crime by age thirty. Among the men with no mental disorder or retardation, 31.7% were registered for a crime. In comparison, 50% of those with a major mental disorder, 92.9% of those with a diagnosis of substance abuse/dependence, 37.5% of those with other mental disorders, and 56.7% of the mentally retarded men were registered for at least one crime. The pattern is similar among the women. While 5.8% with no disorder were registered for at least one crime, 19.0% of those with a major mental disorder, 12.1% of those with other mental disorders, 70.7% of those with diagnoses of substance abuse/dependence, and 16.1% of the mentally retarded women were registered for at least one crime. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This chapter explores the consequences for both clients and careworkers of the coming of care into the spatio-temporal world of homes, and looks at issues of privacy, control and power. For many older people, home is particularly significant as embodying the memories of a partner, and its material surroundings are a daily remainder of continuity with past identity and relationships. Careworkers, in entering the home, enter space that they recognise as private, and some described the uncertainty of the first visit, waiting on the doorstep wondering who and what lay behind the front door. Although they come to do a job of work, they accept that they are in some measure bound by the norms of being a guest. Those with middle and upper-middle class backgrounds, accustomed in the past to having domestic help, in some cases servants, were unsurprisingly the least concerned about the potential intrusion of careworkers. Responses to the intrusion of care tended to reflect gender. The ideology of home plays an important part in the power dynamics of care, endowing older and disabled people with an element of control, and making it possible in some degree to resist the dominance of careworkers and professionals. Careworkers are not always circumspect in their behaviour, and the balance of power remains heavily in their favour. Theft remains a recurring issue in domiciliary care, and other forms of abuse are also a possibility.

This chapter focuses on the issue of dog-stealing in Victorian London, England. While dog-stealing was hardly a new phenomenon, it was the spread of pet ownership among the urban bourgeoisie that called up the opportunities for a crime that directly attacked bourgeois sensibilities. Animal-related discourse had certainly always extended to both sentimental and economic relationships, but pet-stealing encompassed and linked the world of affection and commerce. This was, quite literally, trading in affection. Dog-stealing, then, was seen as systematic, professional, cruel, heartless and virtually beyond the reach of the law. Following the passage of the dog-stealing bill into law in 1845, dogs were now clearly identifiable as property, and offenders could be visited with the full rigour of the law, with the hitherto untouchable receivers now liable to punishment for misdemeanor. What made dog-stealing such a dreadful activity was that it mixed up in peculiarity outrageous way, for the private and the public worlds. The central problem was putting a price on love and affection, forcing pet owners to assess the monetary value of a pet to them and to their families. Stealing pets put that feminine, emotional argument dramatically to the test, revealing pets to their bourgeois owners as a special form of property rather than just innocent domestic companions.