This book argues that in the antebellum US South, enslaved people developed their own emotional ideologies, styles and practices to refuse, resist and survive the institution of slavery. In response to the devastating experiences of sale and separation, enslaved people created their own affective value system to aid them in maintaining familial relationships in the face of enslavers’ attempts to decimate them. The Epilogue emphasises that racialised ideologies surrounding Black emotion and white people’s attempts to restrict Black people’s emotional expressions have not ended, evidenced by the epidemic of violence against Black Americans in the twenty-first century. In resistance to such violence, activists centre emotions such as rage, anger and joy within their protest movements. African Americans’ investment in their own understandings and expressions of joy, love, hope, anger and grief in their resistance strategies ultimately has roots in enslaved people’s responses to the violence they had to endure.

WILLIAM DYNGLEY, PETERHOUSE SCHOLAR

13 July 1392 was a momentous day in the life of William Dyngley, the Ibeginn beginning of his life as a scholar of the bishop of Ely. Admitted as a probationary associate, he could not have known that he would spend the rest of his life at Peterhouse nor that he would dedicate his mature years to a project whose significance reached beyond the walls of the College. This young man was joining a small community of scholars, limited by statute to fourteen members. Six of the men present on that July day would leave Peterhouse by 1400 to be replaced by a new cadre of scholars who in turn would vacate their places for the security offered by benefices. It is not possible to retrieve all the names of the men who filled the statutory places in 1392, but Figure 1.1 summarises readily available information. Over a span of fifty years, as the Peterhouse community constantly changed with the influx of new scholars, William Dyngley remained a stable influence. By 1422 he was the senior Peterhouse scholar.

Introduction

Who benefited from the rapprochement between the United States and Spain at the beginning of the Cold War? This basic question has not yet been satisfactorily answered in the historiography, especially as one moves from the macro to the micro level and from the political to the economic dimension. The fact that the Spanish dictatorship was reinforced internally and internationally is not disputed, since the marriage of convenience between Madrid and Washington effectively put an end to the quarantine that the United Nations had imposed on Franco's Spain; nor is it in doubt that U.S. security strategy was underpinned as a result of the rapprochement, albeit at the cost of eroding the image of the North American giant as the champion of democracy in the post-war world. Specialists also seem to agree that Spain gained little if at all in the way of security, since the national territory and some of its major cities became a target of potential Soviet attacks and were exposed to accidents with U.S. nuclear weapons (such as the one in Palomares in 1966), all without the Spanish government obtaining a guarantee of security from Washington and given that the scale of modernization of the Spanish armed forces was far from what was intended. In economic terms, there seems to be a growing consensus that the bilateral rapprochement, although far from having effects comparable to the benefits derived from the Marshall Plan for countries such as Italy, did have positive effects for the Iberian country.

INTRODUCTION

Margaret Crawford lived in the parish of Denny, where she was a midwife. She was an older woman, the widow of George Horne. She was imprisoned on 14 January 1596 and brought before the presbytery of Stirling, accused of being a witch and an abuser of the people. She confessed that she had never received the sacrament of the Lord's Supper since before the Reformation. She denied all accusations.

The presbytery then questioned witnesses. On 19 January, several neighbours were summoned to testify against her. Out of fifteen witnesses, four did not want to testify. The same date, Crawford was interrogated, but she denied all charges and did not confess to witchcraft.

On 20 January, a female witness testified against her. On 28 January, nine witnesses were called to testify, but two of these persons did not come. On 4 February, new witnesses were summoned, one man and three women. Of these, one man and one woman testified against her.

On 25 February, the brethren of the presbytery wrote to the sheriff of Stirling and requested him to raise a commission to have Crawford tried for ‘witchcraft or abusing of the pepill’ (a phrase, echoing the 1563 witchcraft act, that later became ‘wichcraft and abusing of the pepill’). Thus, the case was moved from the presbytery to secular authority. This is the last information we get in her case.

Crawford was interrogated on an individual basis. No other persons suspected of witchcraft were mentioned, and no description of her alleged witchcraft was given. At the beginning of her confession, the sacraments of the church are mentioned. Witchcraft was not brought to the fore during the interrogation.

The brief entries are interesting because they show the relations between the presbytery and the sheriff.

In this chapter, an adaptation of Stein’s method for bounding the error in multivariate normal approximation is presented. For simplicity, the distance measure used is based on expectations of functions with three bounded derivatives; more natural measures of distance would require much more complicated treatments. The Stein equation used is now a second-order partial differential equation. Solutions to the equation are exhibited, and some of their properties are established; they can then be used to derive a general bound on the approximation error in multivariate normal approximation. For exploiting the general bound, a local approach is introduced, which uses a multivariate version of the double decomposition used for (univariate) normal approximation. This is applied to the number of monochrome edges in a graph whose vertices are randomly coloured. A size bias coupling approach is also developed and applied to the joint distribution of counts of vertices of different degrees in the Bernoulli random graph.

Introduction: The Wrest Circle

In the mid-eighteenth century, Wrest Park was the intellectual home of a literary circle that centred on its owners, Jemima Marchioness Grey (1723–97) and Philip Yorke (later 2nd Earl of Hardwicke) (1720–90). Wrest Park was Grey's familial estate, which she inherited upon the death of her grandfather, the Duke of Kent, in June 1740, only a fortnight after her marriage to Yorke. The marriage had been arranged as an alliance between two powerful Whig families, but it also proved to be a union of minds that brought together two bookish individuals who had both fostered close academic friendships in their adolescence. Quite unconventionally, owing to the mutual academic interests that characterised their marriage, Yorke and Grey brought together these like-minded friends and formed their own scholarly network, the ‘Society at Wrest’. On Grey's side, this consisted of her young aunt, Mary Gregory (nee Grey) (1719–61), and the Bluestocking, Catherine Talbot (1721–70). Yorke's connections would make up the lion's share of the group. The Yorkes were an academic family, and Philip's brother, Charles (1722–70), and sisters, Elizabeth (later Lady Anson) (1725– 60) and Margaret (later Heathcote) (1733–69), also became immersed in the intellectual life at Wrest. In this respect, the heterosocial culture of the Wrest Circle was akin to that of the Bluestocking salons in affording equal respect to its female participants, and there was even some cross-over, as Catherine Talbot belonged to both groups.

This chapter focuses on the financial-market effects of QT. It analyses how government bond yields changed on QE and QT announcement dates and compare the effects of QT announcements with those of QE

This article opens with a long review of the opera La Jacquerie by Joseph Mainzer, premiered at the Théâtre de la Renaissance three days earlier. The concluding paragraphs on other subjects are translated here as being of more interest to modern readers.

One of the most distinguished members of the Théâtre de la Renaissance orchestra, M. Coche, professor of flute at the Conservatoire, has just published a handbook for Boehm's new flute. This publication is very useful: it will be helpful to professionals and amateurs who want to familiarize themselves in a short time with the new fingering, made necessary by the changes that Boehm and Gordon have so successfully brought to the ancient flute, which almost all younger players have now abandoned. M. Gouffé had previously written a work for the four-string bass that was similar to M. Coche's for the Boehm flute. The system on which his treatise is based could lead players of this important element of our orchestras to achieve an even more desirable level of execution because, while making the fingering of the instrument easier, it extends its range by two notes at the bottom, whose value will not escape composers.

I don't presume to talk about Doelher's great études, which have just been published. As compositions, they could be appreciated last winter in all the concerts given by that marvellous pianist, and connoisseurs were quick to recognize the musical merit of several among them, quite independently of the composer's prestige as a pianist.

When war between Scotland and England resumed in 1332, accompanied by a recommencement of the Bruce-Balliol civil conflict within Scotland itself, possession of the kingdom's towns became a key objective for Balliol/ English forces. These sites provided legitimacy for Balliol pretensions of kingship over a unified territory and administrative sites from which to govern territories ostensibly under its control. Towns were key sources of economic power and potential prosperity with which to aid the war effort, and acted as reception points for incoming goods, as well as supply depots for forthcoming campaigns . In the principal years of conflict (1332–41) many of these towns were garrisoned, and the most prominent examples found themselves in close contact with an English or Anglo-Scottish force which was there ostensibly for the community's protection from attack. This is often written about in secondary sources in terms of occupation, but to what extent was this really the case? What were relations like between townsmen and soldiers? And to what extent was there a potential for such towns to gain from their wartime experience, as opposed to the assumption that war led to invariable loss?

This chapter will consider the above questions in relation to the Scottish urban experience of war in this period. Although a relatively brief timescale, the period is well-served by English administrative record evidence that gives important insight into the relationship between Scottish towns and those in whose care and under whose control they were placed.

The well-worn stereotypes of eighteenth-century theatrical comedy are an unlikely place to look for accurate depictions of Welsh revivalism. But Richard Cumberland's play The Fashionable Lover (1772) nevertheless includes one character who embodies aspects of the revival that remain under-emphasized. Doctor Druid (for that is his name) is a tutor to the profligate Lord Abbeville, and a minor comic player in the intrigues that drive the plot. But along with being an antiquarian ‘gentleman from a very antient family in North Wales’, he is also an obsessive naturalist – an allround pedantic virtuoso, just as likely to trap you in ‘the discussion of a cockle-shell, or the dissection of a butterfly's wing’ as he is to spend time ‘differing and disputing truly about pedigrees and antiquities’, or declaring himself ‘as pig and as pold’ as the cod-medieval Welsh ‘King Gryffyn’. The ‘Doctor’, from one angle, is simply a mixture of stock characters: the choleric, ancestry-obsessed Welshman who swaps his b's for p’s, the desiccated joyless antiquarian ‘rak’d […] out of the cinders of Mount Vesuvius’, and the scientific pedant obsessed with pointless obscurities. But Doctor Druid nevertheless succeeds in capturing an important element of this period's revivalism: namely, the combined revivalist interest in antiquarian history and enlightenment natural science.

Two scholarly works associated with the society of Cymmrodorion were published in 1766, which demonstrate this combination of interests perfectly. One, in keeping with the antiquarian reputation of Welsh cultural revivalism, was a work centred on ancient druidism: a second edition of Henry Rowlands’ Mona Antiqua Restaurata (1723), the foremost Welsh druidic history from the early eighteenth century, republished by Cymmrodorion member Henry Owen, and with corrections ascribed to the society's co-founder Lewis Morris.