The Russian composer Mikhail Ivanovitch Glinka (1804–57) had received a note from Berlioz three weeks earlier asking for details of his musical background. He evidently responded in some detail.

We French are rather inclined, in Paris especially, to base our reception of foreign composers of an unfamiliar type on a kind of prejudice, the injustice of which is always recognised too late to have any impact. Our opinion of them is settled in advance, an opinion that's either friendly or hostile, according to our surroundings, habits, and ideas, and we go along with it initially without any reasons to justify it, though with the possibility of changing it if we absolutely have to. So that if we mention a new Italian composer to the vast majority of Parisian artists, they’ll think, even if they don't say so, that he must be some mediocre cavatina merchant, unable to string three chords together properly, the servile copyist of copyists who imitated the imitators of Rossini, unaware of what's happening in the great musical world, as though it were some tune sung around Juggernaut's pagoda and that experiencing it was best avoided by anyone not wanting to be dubbed a stick-inthe- mud. As a result, the greatest Italian composers could suffer this kind of unwarranted stigma if they arrive here out of the blue. On the other hand, in the world of elegance, that of soirées with singing where the word ‘concert’ means the more or less grotesque performance of half a dozen Italian arias, duets, trios or whatever, with piano accompaniment, the new arrival would, on the contrary, be presumed a delightful composer, full of tuneful melodies, and deserving of the encouragement and support of everyone who loves and honours music.

Franziska woke up early, sat down at the open window and looked out over the lake. It was encircled by high mountains on the right, and on the left, lines of hills, with villages and vineyards. One of these hills, the highest of them, was the Castle Hill, whose steep descent, at least at the front, made it appear even higher and more imposing than it was. It marked exactly the point at which the hilly terrain began to turn mountainous. At its foot was a meandering brook, and Franziska, wishing to see where it began, traced its course upward and realized that this was the stream, descending from the top of the Castle Hill, that Hannah had searched out the night before.

Having thus gained her bearings, she turned back into her room in order to acquaint herself, gradually and at her leisure, with the space where she was now to live. The furniture was old but well preserved, and she found every piece interesting, especially a rococo chest, richly decorated with tortoiseshell and large gold drawer handles. Above the chest was a walnut etagere for books, on whose top shelf all sorts of Meissen and Chinese porcelain stood, including two small figurines on the left and right. She set their heads in motion and watched them nodding solemnly. Then, out of curiosity, she took down a few volumes.

A few prisoners discovered that giving information about the British to the French could help prove that they were not British. Desperate to get out of a prison depot, or to avoid being sent to one, they revealed whatever they knew about France's enemy.

The Geneva Convention on the Treatment of Prisoners of War was nearly a century and a half in the future. Article Seventeen of that convention states that

No physical or mental torture, nor any other form of coercion, may be inflicted on prisoners of war to secure from them information of any kind whatever. Prisoners of war who refuse to answer may not be threatened, insulted, or exposed to any unpleasant or disadvantageous treatment of any kind.

The belligerents of the European and American wars of the early nineteenth century would have laughed at such restriction. Brutality toward prisoners of war was exhibited on all sides. Seamen prisoners were starved into signing on to French privateers, heaped together in filth and misery on British hulks, left to starve and freeze, were severely beaten (as was Francis Felton) or shut in the dungeons and prisons of their captors. Though it was standard behaviour, the captors usually had enough sense of what human decency should be to have been ashamed and not to have recorded their own brutality. The documents do not state that the American seamen were beaten or forced to give information but it may have been so. Alternatively, their experiences of forced labour or floggings on board Royal Navy vessels (of which many accounts have been recorded) may have been such that they willingly did what harm they could to the British cause.

Most of the classical empires collapsed in the middle of the first millennium, but despite this collapse various regions of the world became more culturally, commercially, and politically integrated in the millennium that followed, a process traced in this chapter. Mercantile and religious networks, including Islam, linked growing cities and glittering courts, where hereditary rulers and their entourages of elites developed institutions and ceremonies that strengthened royal authority, and created courtly cultures with distinctive codes of behavior. All of these relied for their wealth on a spread and intensification of agriculture, which happened in both the eastern and western hemispheres, and was interwoven with changes in social and gender structures. Cites such as Constantinople, Tenochtitlan, and Hangzhou grew into large metropolises, and religion, trade, and diplomacy motivated people to travel, creating regional and transregional zones of exchange in goods and ideas.

This chapter investigates food supply and the eating and drinking habits of the rural population, focusing on Germania Inferior but including some information from other parts of the Empire. After discussing the various sources of evidence for diet, the chapter focuses on ingredients, evidence provided by the human skeleton, spaces for cooking and dining, daily meals and special meals, ending with some remarks on regional variation versus generalities of Roman diet.

This paper explores the evolution, transformation, and adaptation of settlement patterns in Roman-period Southwest Asia. By examining three case study areas—the Amuq Plain in southern Turkey, the Balikh River Valley, and the Upper Khabur Basin in northeastern Syria—it investigates subsistence strategies and modes of landscape exploration. Through a detailed analysis of archaeological and historical data, this chapter aims to shed light on how local communities adapted to changing socio-economic and ecological condition in this extended borderland.

The Smithsonian’s new exhibit “Entertainment Nation” signals how museums now embrace popular culture when they previously dismissed it. Beginning in the 1970s–1980s, American museums expanded definitions of “culture,” their role as educational sites, and their audiences. New “hometown” museums memorialized Hollywood celebrities’ grass roots, successful so long as the stars remained famous. Museums dedicated to sports, musical genres, and other types of popular culture simultaneously grew. Traditional museums also began to embrace the history of American popular culture in topical exhibits. Especially popular are new museums dedicated to the mass media. In one instance, however, the Academy Museum of Motion Pictures’ 2024 exhibit on the film industry’s Jewish founders sparked a backlash for being anti-Semitic. Its dramatic failure illustrates what this volume argues is most important: American popular culture must be narrativized within a web of political, technological, economic, and cultural constraints.

Berlioz takes the opportunity of this occasion to offer his views on the current state of French music.

In the absence of M. Dufaure, this occasion was presided over by the Directeur des Beaux-Arts, M. Charles Blanc. The speech he made at the start of the meeting was reckoned to be full of sense and relevance; it was notable too for an accurate judgment of the power of modern music and the importance it is tending to have among civilized peoples. M. Charles Blanc did not fail to underline the role played by music in those great political and social upheavals known as revolutions. Unfortunately, he was unable to say – if music has indeed contributed almost everywhere to the progress of those revolutions by stirring up the enthusiasm and the good or bad passions of the populace – whether it is equally the case that those revolutions have contributed to the progress of music. As it is, we have only too many reasons for believing the contrary, and the following passage of M. Blanc's speech, which was applauded by the whole room, explains to what extent the new state of things had given rise to fears for the most precious of our musical institutions: ‘I was present, gentlemen, at the Assembly when, considering the Conservatoire, it refused, when the question was raised by one of its members, to discuss your needs. At a time when circumstances demand so many sacrifices, the Assembly has left your funding intact, wishing to prove by that what generosity you can rely on when times become more prosperous’.

This chapter examines Cullen’s appointment as rector of the irish College in Rome, his career in that position, and his lifelong friendship with his vice rector Tobias Kirby, as well as his abortive appointment as coadjtuor bishop of Charleston, South Carolina.

Alcohol in South Africa

The World Health Organisation reports that 70 per cent of South Africans aged fifteen and older say they do not drink alcohol. You might find this hard to believe on a township weekend. The WHO estimates the per capita South African consumption for those fifteen years and older is 9.3 litres of pure alcohol per year, compared to the global average of 6.4 litres per year. Among those who do drink, the average consumption in 2016 was 29.9 litres, with males drinking more than twice as much as females (37.5 and 13.7 litres respectively). The WHO goes on to report that South Africa is a country with one of the riskiest drinking cultures. Almost one in two men and one in five women who drink, binge drink; that is, consume large amounts of alcohol over a short period. Binge drinking is a significant factor in violence, road accidents, and disease.

In South Africa, liquor legally refers to any drink with more than 1 per cent alcohol, not only distilled spirits. I use the terms alcohol and liquor interchangeably for all alcoholic drinks. Alcohol is widely used in South Africa for recreational and social purposes. Drinking is a major feature of township life. It is an important social lubricant and pastime, particularly for men. Indeed, drinking together is the primary form of socialisation for many township men. The most consumed drink is beer. This is typically sold in 750ml quarts or 1-litre bottles, though a range of other sized bottles and cans are available, especially for higher-end premium brands.

Once war had been declared against France, the King signed the Prize Act into law. It was then immediately proclaimed through the London Gazette, the usual official channel for dissemination of information. The Prize Act laid down the proportions into which any benefit from taking a prize would be divided. The elements were:

• • Once any capture had been judged a lawful prize, all benefit went to those on board the captor

• • Five pounds would be paid for every one of the enemy alive at the start of the engagement, without deductions

• • The bounty would be divided into eight parts, the captain receiving three eighths unless he was under the command of a flag officer, who had one of his eighths

• • One eighth to be divided amongst the lieutenants, the master and the captain of marines

• • One eighth to be divided amongst the warrant officers

• • One eighth to be divided amongst the inferior warrant officers

• • Two eighths to be divided amongst the able and ordinary seamen and everyone else

• • A list of everyone on board the captor had to be made, and checked for Accuracy

• • An agent had to be appointed to act for the ship's company

• • The produce of the agent's labour was to be distributed in the same Proportions

• • The geographic location of a flag officer entitled to a one eighth portion was laid down

This chapter provides an overview of current data and approaches to settlement patterns and land use in the Late Roman western and eastern Mediterranean countryside, and the impact on the countryside of natural and socio-political factors, including the development of Christianity.

The idea of artistic expertise as a commodity has been at the heart of this study. In previous decades, gold, silver, silks and precious objects in metal or ivory had formed the main currency of exchange, mostly travelling northwards within Iberia and across the Pyrenees. Such portable objects and their potential agency have dominated many studies of art in this region. In this book, expertise, in the person of the artist, has been viewed similarly as a possible gift, to be exchanged or loaned, usually for a specific project. This hypothesis has implications for the mobility of artists and for the dynamics of transmission. It contests the idea that artists wandered of their own free will looking for work. It proposes instead that they were sent and usually returned when projects were completed. Artists may well have recognised such constraints as an essential aspect of their position and used atlantes, especially chained examples, as a way of expressing this.

This view has provided a rationale for the isolated and eccentric nature of the corpus of works studied here. It might be argued that low survival rate over centuries could account for this – and that is surely part of the answer – but time-limited and project-focused visits by a series of fully formed sculptors provide another explanation for such varied and accomplished works as Ona's refectory, the cloisters of Pamplona and Silos, the ivory plaques of the Passion and Resurrection, the sarcophagi of Dona Sancha and Dona Blanca, and the apostle columns of Antealtares. Together, these works constitute a middle phase of Romanesque art in Iberia, which lacks both the experimental nature of the early phase up to c.1100 and the more identifiable regional character of late Romanesque c.1200. Doubtless some will argue about the scope of this corpus and wish to exclude or include particular works.