November 2007

History Blogging Awards 2007

The Cliopatria Awards are open closed for nominations!

They are intended to recognize the best history writing in the blogosphere in the last year. There will be awards in six categories:

* Best Group Blog
* Best Individual Blog
* Best New Blog
* Best Post
* Best Series of Posts
* Best Writer

Nominations close Midnight EDT on Friday 30 November (5am 1 December GMT). Get your nominations in now!

Full disclosure: I’m heading up one of the judging panels. (All bribes gratefully received.)


Sunday baking

Well, a week or two ago I said I was thinking about baking my own bread. And look!!

fresh bread

No idea what it tastes like yet (I’m worried I should have given it another five minutes in the oven), but it smells lurrvely. I’ll update tomorrow when I do the ceremonial cutting.

Update: It was good. Yay!

So I shall be doing it again. Maybe today, even, as I could do with some nice bread rolls for packed lunches… (I like the look of this potato and olive oil flatbread too.) This could get addictive.

Serendipitously, the Graun ran a baking special this weekend, which was very helpful.

(The advice it didn’t include: Before your dough gets kinda to the point of no return (on a Sunday evening…), check that your oven lighter still has some fuel. I knew it was running on fumes, but had I bothered to do anything about it?)


The absolute ultimate WTF

You have personal data, including bank account details, on 25 million people which you need to transfer to another site. What do you do?

If you work at HM Revenue and Customs, you burn it onto some CDs and put it in the post. And when it doesn’t turn up, you repeat the exercise.

I keep alternating between hysterical cackling and total speechlessness.

And, as a number of bloggers I’ve surfed by have pointed out, this is the government that wants us to trust their ID cards scheme?


Songs of praise for slow cooking

The perfect lamb and lentil stew for Sunday dinner in winter.

1. About midday*: get out of bed. Yes, I know it’s cosy in there. It will be worth it.

2. Take your stewing lamb and chop into rough cubes if it hasn’t been done already. Heat oil in pan. Brown the lamb, turn down slightly and add sliced onion. Add spices to suit tastes: coriander, cumin, cinnamon, paprika and chilli/cayenne does it for me. Stir so the meat gets coated and the spices nicely toasted. Transfer them to the waiting slow cooker pot (don’t forget to turn the thing on). Now deglaze the pan with red wine/water and add that to the pot as well, so you don’t lose any of the flavours. Then top up the pot with some tinned tomato juice (or passata) and stock. Optional extra: some chopped dried apricots. Adds some extra fruitiness. Put the lid on the cooker and leave it. (You may wish to put the cooker on high for the first half hour or so to get it started, but after that it should be on low.)

Now you have about five hours to kill: you may choose to go back to bed, get some work done, go out for a walk, etc.

3. So, when you come back to it, add some handfuls of lentils. At this point you can also add some chunkily chopped carrots or other root vegetables that you fancy. Leave for at least another three hours. Serve with your favoured form of starchy accompaniment (with these flavours I prefer rice or cous cous, with some bread if needed for mopping up). You should be able to eat it with a spoon, pretty much.

An alternative would be beans rather than, or as well as, lentils.

This seems to me a remarkably simple route to pleasure. There’s about 20 minutes of activity, and the rest of the time is just letting it get on with it. No elaborate measuring, and none of the timings are critical. It doesn’t even make much of a dent on your wallet; slow cooking and cheap cuts of meat go hand in hand.

* or about 8 to 9 hours before you plan to eat.


Sunday WTF?

A third of [British] adults believe God watches over them, says a poll commissioned by a Christian charity.

Two in five adults say prayers and one in three believes that God is watching over them, a new poll reveals. Of the 20 million Britons aged over 18 who say they pray, 13 million do so at least once a month, 12 million every week and 9 million every day.

Apart from the fact that this is one of those irritating press stories about some survey or poll that tells you absolutely nothing of substance about the supposed research (methodology? sample size?), someone somewhere appears to have some serious problems with adding up. Is this just repeated from the press release or has the journalist managed to actively screw it up?

(Also, I’ve just spotted the date. It’s not something that got shoved up in a rush a few hours ago; it’s been there for a week.)

Found the source.

I imagine what they mean is that 13 million people pray at least once a month, of whom 12 million do it every week, of whom 9 million do it every day. Which makes it bad writing rather than bad arithmetic. Unless of course you’re one of those dreadful cynical people who would suggest that it’s done deliberately to inflate the figures…


Comfort food

Yuk. It’s cold and horrid and dark. Time to start gathering up some of those recipes I turn to during the winter to cheer me up.

Roast pumpkin soup. (Next time though, I think I might add some tomato puree or extra tomatoes.) Also, I now know what to do with the cleaned-up pumpkin seeds: toast for ten minutes or so in a frying pan with oil, add a mix of spices (chilli powder/cumin/paprika) for a few more minutes and then add some fresh-squeezed lime juice, let all the liquid evaporate off, sprinkle a bit of salt, and serve up as a side dish to nibble happily.

Tuna and fennel spaghetti. The toasted breadcrumbs are essential, although the capers and fresh herbs aren’t. Leftovers also make a nice packed lunch the next day (especially if you have access to a microwave at work).

Haloumi and sweet potato casserole. Which works pretty well even if you don’t have sweet potatoes around. Ditto on the packed lunch leftovers, if you have the self-control to have any leftovers. Baked sweet potato is also simple, utterly delectable, and makes a nice change from the usual version.

Sweet potato risotto. This was my absolute favourite form of risotto last winter. (I don’t usually oven-roast it, mind you, as I have an aversion to turning on the oven to cook just one thing - I parboil/steam in microwave and then finish off in a frying pan for some crispy edges before adding to the risotto.) Risotto of any variety is yet another thing that’s worth making extra for lunch the following day.

Lamb and lentil stew. Tomorrow I’ll be doing something with similar flavourings, but in the slow cooker. I love having the house slowly filling with cooking food aromas for several hours. My mouth is expectantly watering already.

Then there are the things that are essential but don’t need recipes, like mashed potato (in all its varieties: with parsnip; cheese; mustard; bubble and squeak…). And sausages. Sausages. Sausages. Mmmmm. Sausages…

I am contemplating making my own bread this winter (I’m fed up with the available local choices - I found a really good bakery, but they went bust). I know how to do it, thanks to good friends who had the patience to teach me the business of dough-making, and were prepared to gamble on the results being edible (now that’s real friendship). The big question is, can I be arsed?

Do you have any special favourites for seeing off the winter blues?


Quick quiz

A splendid outburst from a judge:

What is to be done with him? Is he to walk away as if nothing had happened? If his father would give him a good flogging, that would be the best way out of the difficulty, but that is not done now; it has gone out of fashion. Boys are allowed to do what they like. Then they are brought here charged with these offences, and then a passionate appeal, an eloquent appeal, or a pathetic appeal, is made to the judge not to send them to prison because it will ruin them for life.

What date do you think this is?


Tyburn’s Martyrs

The criminals went to the place of execution in the following order, Morgan, Webb, and Wolf, in the first cart; Moore in a mourning coach; Wareham and Burk in the second cart; Tilley, Green, and Howell in the third; Lloyd on a sledge; on their arrival at Tyburn they were all put into one cart. They all behaved with seriousness and decency. Mary Green professed her innocence to the last moment of the fact for which she died, cleared Ann Basket, and accused the woman who lodged in the room where the fact was committed. As Judith Tilley appeared under terrible agonies, Mary Green applied herself to her, and said, do not be concerned at this death because it is shameful, for I hope God will have mercy upon our souls; Catharine Howell likewise appeared much dejected, trembled and was under very fearful apprehensions; all the rest seemed to observe an equal conduct, except Moore, who, when near dying, shed a flood of tears. In this manner they took their leave of this transitory life, and are gone to be disposed of as shall seem best pleasing to that all-wise Being who first gave them existence.*

In my research sources before I came to Sheffield, capital punishment appeared fairly infrequently, briefly and usually in the future tense: typically, the marginal note ’suspendatur’ (abbreviated to sur’ or sr’), ‘to be hanged’. Even those terse notes of an event 300 years old, which quite possibly didn’t happen anyway (as many of those sentenced were reprieved), always disturbed me slightly.

I read the records of homicides and coroners’ inquests - murders, gruesome accidents, negligence and cruelty - and they are distressing and disturbing, yet they don’t evoke quite the same sense of culture shock as do the accounts of executions and ‘Last Dying Speeches’. We aren’t simply talking about the execution of murderers here: in the 18th century burglars, robbers, pickpockets, horse thieves, sheep- and cattle-rustlers, forgers and counterfeiters could all face slow, horrible deaths, in most cases public strangulation, and this was regarded by most people as perfectly normal and civilised. (Indeed, there were those who thought that hanging was not punishment enough.)

In my new job, I’ve spent some time reading Ordinary’s Accounts, which are one of the many sources we’re digitising. These are rich and fascinating sources, full of stories of the lives of common people. But they are also stories of death, and they give me the willies - not least because ordinary, decent, intelligent people in the 18th century had no problem with the idea of pickpockets, shoplifters, burglars, sheep rustlers, forgers and counterfeiters, receiving exactly the same punishment as murderers.

So, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of Andrea McKenzie, since she has written an entire, densely detailed book about the subject and the source: Tyburn’s Martyrs: Execution in England 1675-1775. She must be a tougher soul than me.

In fact, at the very beginning of the book she mentions some of the bemused reactions she received from people learning what her research topic was, including the gentleman who suggested that she should study “something pleasant, like great battles”. (more…)


Sunday digitalia

It’s argued that that computer literacy in schools should mean more than word processing. (And the kids are well ahead of the schools.) What would a digitally literate UK entail?

There are four million bloggers in the UK. (Recently, I confess, I’ve been feeling a bit ambivalent about the unstoppable march of The Blog. OK, I was never quite one of those blog evangelists whose mantra was: EVERYONE MUST BLOG!! It was more like Wow! Isn’t this exciting! Think of the possibilities! And then everyone did. It was fun in 2005 being the Brave Band of Beleaguered Bloggers vs the Doubting Tribbles and the Establishment. Now the Establishment has not only a blog but also a Facebook profile and an eye-torturing MySpace page. Harrumph.)


Story for the day

There was a man who married a beautiful woman; but he was ugly; so his wife had an affair; so he killed her; so he was hanged; and the Ordinary lived happily ever after.


Pretty things

New book arrived today.

Update: the foreword is a bit of a hoot. As is A Mormon and His Wives Dancing to the Devil’s Tune (p.64). It’s fun just opening pages at random to see what happens.


It’s your neck or your arm

I’ve encountered 18th-century convicts getting a reprieve from hanging in return for agreeing to join the army or navy, but this is a new one on me:

On the evening before execution, a respite of 14 days was brought for George Chippendale, and to be continued, if within that time he shall submit to suffer the amputation of a limb, in order to try the efficacy of a new-invented styptic for stopping the blood-vessels, instead of the present more painful practice in such cases. For this indulgence, he, together with his brother and his uncle, had joined in a petition to his Majesty, and thankfully accepted it, appearing in good health and spirits, ready and chearful to undergo the experiment.

(Ordinary’s Account, May 1763.)

I don’t know if any of the medical historians know anything more about the ‘new-invented styptic’, or whether it was successful?


A minor announcement

If there is anything odd about the appearance of the blog today, please refresh the screen. (I tweaked the style sheet slightly at the weekend.)

Now back to our normal programmes…


Sunday news for the digital historian

1. Two pieces by Anthony Grafton: Future Reading: digitisation and its discontents is a substantial must-read article; and Adventures in Wonderland includes a selection of resources (h-t).

The supposed universal library, then, will be not a seamless mass of books, easily linked and studied together, but a patchwork of interfaces and databases, some open to anyone with a computer and WiFi, others closed to those without access or money. The real challenge now is how to chart the tectonic plates of information that are crashing into one another and then to learn to navigate the new landscapes they are creating… Soon, the present will become overwhelmingly accessible, but a great deal of older material may never coalesce into a single database… Though the distant past will be more available, in a technical sense, than ever before, once it is captured and preserved as a vast, disjointed mosaic it may recede ever more rapidly from our collective attention.

2. The Guardian and Observer Newspapers Archive (to 1975 at present) is up and running.

This is the first time a UK national newspaper’s print archive has been available through its website. Previously, the only way to explore newspaper archives was by laboriously searching newsprint pages, stored on microfilm and in bound copies. Our ambitious digitisation project involved scanning every page from microfilm, segmenting each page into article clippings and then making them searchable.

It’s a pay-for service, unfortunately, but there is a 24-hour free trial, and a variety of individual purchasing options. (The Guardian Unlimited archive, ie the archive of the online version of the newspaper since 1999, will continue to be available free of charge, according to the FAQ.)


CFP: The Metropolis on Trial

Really, it would be shockingly negligent of me not to plug our project conference here, now wouldn’t it? For all those of you interested in The Old Bailey Online, crime, justice and so on between the 18th and 20th centuries (not just in London - we’re looking out for comparative papers), the project conference will be next July, following the launch of the Proceedings of the Central Criminal Court in 2008.

In addition to the general descriptions in the CFP below, there are a couple of planned panels that might particularly interest you folks.

First, we’d like to have a panel specifically on teaching with the OBP. My friend Chris Williams at OU is in charge of this one: “I’m interested in finding out more about how they have been used, how they could be used, and what’s worked, as well as what hasn’t. The implications of the impact of this kind of resource on teaching might also be worth a look.” You can email him to find out more: Chris.Williams[AT]open.ac.uk

We also have in mind a possible panel on digitising history - practicalities and ideas, issues and agendas, whatever. If that interests you, you might perhaps contact Tim Hitchcock (t.hitchcock[AT]herts.ac.uk) for a chat before submitting a proposal.

The Metropolis on Trial
An International Conference at the Open University, Milton Keynes

10-12 July 2008

This conference heralds and celebrates the completion of the Old Bailey online project. From the early summer of 2008 it will be possible to consult at www.oldbaileyonline.org not only the Proceedings of the Old Bailey from 1674 to 1834 but also those of its successor, the Central Criminal Court, from 1834 to 1913. Papers at the conference will draw upon these proceedings, or those of similar courts in other metropolitan centres, to explore aspects of cultural, social or political life from the late eighteenth to the early twentieth centuries.

Clive Emsley, Open University
Tim Hitchcock, University of Hertfordshire
Bob Shoemaker, University of Sheffield

Proposals for papers, not more than 200 words please, should be sent by Friday 7 December 2007, to Sue Watkins, Dept of History, Open University, Milton Keynes MK7 6AA, United Kingdom. Email: S.Watkins[AT]open.ac.uk

(I’ll be keeping this somewhere near the top of the front page for a few weeks.)


Yes, I know I’m easily pissed off, but…

Right up there on the long, long list of things that make me grumpy?

Students who visit my website and then send me emails asking me to do their homework for them. Do they think I can’t spot what they’re up to or something?

Get stuffed, cheats.