Historians have long been interested in the itinerations of medieval kings. Ever since the nineteenth century, when Thomas Duffus Hardy and Johann Friedrich Böhmer first began the laborious task of compiling itineraries based upon a systematic study of contemporary sources, scholars have sought to reconstruct the daily movements of individual medieval monarchs. For England's kings, for instance, there are now established itineraries for most rulers, including kings John, Henry III and Edward II. The movements of the Capetians and their Valois successors have been similarly established from the reign of Louis VII onwards, while the itinerations of many medieval German emperors and kings are recorded in that monumental work of past and present scholarship, the Regesta Imperii.

Even so, and until relatively recently, at least in Anglophone scholarship, the interpretation of the information supplied by such itineraries has usually been superficial, focusing overwhelmingly on their chronological and geographical details. Itineraries do of course offer rudimentary albeit valuable evidence for when, and potentially how long, any king stayed at a specific location. This is especially useful when analysing political crises or military campaigns.

Using the prism of identity, this chapter will try to understand how the Palatines were perceived by the English and Irish, how they may have viewed themselves and the power of an emerging media in shaping public opinion. Although most Palatines in Ireland identified as Protestant, given the large number of Catholics amongst the 1709 migrants and issues of conformity and nonconformity discussed previously, I will argue that Palatines took on different identities on their arrival.

Immigrant identities are constructed and can be fluid over time. Palatine families arriving in Ireland had multiple alternative religious and occupational identities available to them, for example, as Huguenots or linen-weavers. Examples will be provided of families in Ireland who have escaped attention in the Palatine historiography to date. First, the chapter will address questions of identity and public opinion. It will then provide examples of alternative identities adopted by Palatines. The involvement of Palatines in linen and weaving industries in Ireland deserves further attention – after all it was those skilled in such industries who were chosen to be shipped to Ireland in August 1709. Schools which grew up in parallel with the linen industry may also offer clues to settlement patterns of Palatines in Ireland. William Conolly, the Speaker of the Irish House of Commons was one of the many landlords who gave land for a charity school to be built on his estate in Celbridge, Co. Kildare. Conolly, a Whig, also appears on a list of gentlemen who drew Palatines (Table 4.1.), retaining four families in 1710 according to reports sent to London. In these charity schools, children were taught to read and write, instructed in the ‘Christian and Protestant’ religion and employed in the cultivation of crops and the manufacture of linen and hemp.

One of the main rationales for this study is to contextualize our understanding of early nineteenth-century science within the larger crosscurrents of a pan-European romanticism. We did this in the Introduction and the three chapters that followed by exploring the concept of organicism and how it fueled a series of scientific fields of study that encouraged individuals like Alexander von Humboldt, Alessandro Volta, Luigi Galvani, Johann Wilhelm von Ritter, Franz Anton Mesmer, René Laënnec and Frédéric Dubois d’Amiens to look beyond the mere observable in order to perceive a connection between humanity and nature. Whether it be through cosmology, galvanism, mesmerism or the unseen world of the mind, scientists at the turn of the nineteenth century opened up new ways of defining the self in relation to the external environment. Coupled with the heightened cosmopolitan ethos of post-Napoleonic Europe, the early nineteenth century became an era known for its ‘romantic vision’, a dynamic way of being in the world that sought an all-encompassing unity with nature. This unity was projected into the operatic works of the time, where marriage was the catalyst for the principal characters to go beyond the known natural environment. We saw this with Max in Der Freischütz and the creation of galvanized bullets deep in a Bohemian forest (Chapter 1), Robert in Robert le diable and his use of• a mesmerized branch infused with the power to induce sleep (Chapter 2) and Lucia in Lucia di Lammermoor and her retreat into a mind affected by madness, a symptom of hysteria (Chapter 3). All three principle characters were uncoupled at the start of their journey and in conflict with themselves and the people around them, which forced them to seek the inner world of nature in order to marry the person they loved.

10.1 Introduction

The fall of Dublin in 902 ended an era. The history and ambitions of the ninth-century kingdom of Dublin were brought to a sudden halt. Dublin's dominance of Viking activity in Ireland, since the mid-ninth century, may well account for the almost complete absence of such activity from the record for eleven years, after the Irish capture of Dublin in 902. Other bases were evidently closely tied to Dublin, and it seems that leaders of the east Ulster Vikings, probably based at Strangford Lough, decamped from Ireland with those of Dublin in 902. (See Fig. 10.1 for locations in Ireland). The inter-dependency of east Ulster Vikings and Dublin suggests that a Viking enclave in Ulaid was intended to ensure Dublin control of the sea passage between north-east Ireland and North Britain/Scotland. Any Vikings remaining in Ireland after 902 left no mark on the record of politico-military affairs until 914. This hiatus is unparalleled since the first Irish annalistic record of Vikings, in North Britain/Scotland, in 794. Only in the era of ‘hit-and-run’ raiding does one find more than two consecutive years in which the annals report no Viking activity in Ireland. Even then, ‘Viking-free’ intervals of eight years (799–806), three years (808–810) and seven years (814–820) are shorter than that of 903–913.

The return of Vikings to Ireland in 914 was marked from the first, as we will see, by politico-military strategy and alliances with the Gaelic Irish, which also influenced church-raiding.

LITERARY HISTORY

Literary history chronicles the evolution of literature, highlighting how authors depict and reflect on social customs, delve into heritage and identity, question existing power dynamics, amplify marginalized perspectives and cultures, tackle taboo topics, unveil and preserve minority experiences, and encourage cultural empowerment. It is frequently organized chronologically (by period, movement, or genre), culturally, socially, or geographically, with texts categorized as global, regional, national, or ethnic. Often, these categories contain subsets of linguistic, religious, gendered, and diasporic identities or affiliations.

Authors draw on critical perspectives such as Marxism, feminism, and postcolonialism to shape their literary works, while critics apply these perspectives to analyze and interpret texts. Literary history allows readers to trace the development of cultural attitudes, recognize influential traditions and authors, and grasp how earlier literary movements and genres have shaped contemporary ones. Literary history also lets readers see how innovative narrative techniques and new theoretical concepts challenge and transform traditional practices and beliefs. For instance, the Harlem Renaissance highlighted the vibrancy of African-American arts; feminist literature contested patriarchal norms; postcolonial literature opposed imperialist narratives; LGBTQ+ literature fostered inclusivity; and dystopian fiction cautioned against totalitarianism.

Literary history offers a panoramic view of the dynamic evolution between traditional forms and their innovations, a decolonization process broadly defined here as any endeavor that breaks away from restrictive systems or individuals, advances inclusive knowledge systems, and promotes self-definition. This ongoing dialectic shapes the creative and literary arts, continually redefining the boundaries of expression and cultural representation.

Un viaje a través de la lectura es el que propone Beltrán (2020), aquel que permite revisitar la historia de la mano de cronistas, adentrarse en ciudades ficcionales o reconocer el valor de los escritos de las mujeres. Este tipo de viaje, hecho a través de la lectura, recrea ciudades que no necesariamente narran todas las performatividades transculturales de quienes viajan físicamente, pero permite la reflexión y el análisis. Esta travesía es la que hemos realizado tú y yo a largo de estas páginas. Méndez de Cuenca, Garro, Castellanos, Puga, Seligson y Moscona muestran que lo que inicialmente se intenta no necesariamente es lo que se realiza, pero el resultado permite una proyección más allá de los bordes corporales, mentales, lingüísticos y territoriales. Sus narrativas de viaje son una invitación a conocer otras culturas desde un ángulo particular, entre la repetición de los mismos patrones, propios de sus contextos históricos, y la posibilidad de un cambio.

Modern editors of medieval texts face the challenge of making the complexities of the handwritten page reproducible in print. Readers of these editions are accustomed to features of the printed page, including predominantly empty margins and the relegation of glossatorial material to footnotes or endnotes. As a result of this familiarity, readers are attuned to the didactic affordances of the printed page's presentation: we know the relegated material is ancillary to the text because it is repeatedly presented with markers of difference – italics, alterations in text size or font – that crystalise the hermeneutic boundary that Michael P. Kuczynski has termed the ‘text–margin divide’. These markers, which are firmly rooted in the modern reader's modus legendi, have their manuscript precursors. Malcolm Parkes has described how, in twelfth-century academic thought, new methods of representing material on the manuscript page arose in the genre of biblical commentary to accommodate longer glosses from multiple authorities. In copies of Peter Lombard's Magna glosatura, for example, the ‘whole process of indicating text, commentary, and sources was incorporated into the design of the page’ where the biblical text appeared in a formal script in central columns surrounded by commentary.

Large-scale Wycliffite productions of the late fourteenth and early fifteenth centuries – including the Glossed Gospels, the Middle English Bible translations, and the glossed Psalter in Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Bodley 554 – are widely recognised as sites of innovation in the movement of these academic glossing practices into the vernacular.

Flourishing Women Musicians

In her essay ‘Rethinking Women's Music-making through the Lens of Human Flourishing’, Annegret Fauser encourages scholars to treat women musicians as creative and ‘unique people within a network of others … [who should be considered] on their own terms’. Investigations of women in their networks, Fauser continues, ‘offer a pathway to taking seriously their joy and creativity in sound, whatever pressures and constraints they might have faced in their times’. This approach aligns with Joe Davies's framing of Clara Schumann Studies. He argues that the time is ripe to reshape narratives about women musicians by exploring their lives and musical activities ‘as part of a larger dialogue with those of their contemporaries’. He notes further that the volume encourages readers to ‘humanize (rather than apotheosize)’ Schumann's career by considering her both on her own terms and in relation to the external influences that shaped her. When considering the creative lives of women musicians from the mid-to-late twentieth century, Fauser and Davies demand a more complete narrative of how they flourished. Who were in their networks of support? Where did they find inspiration? Who were their collaborators? In what ways did their lifestyle lead to their flourishing? Obstructions to understanding women's flourishing occur when crucial aspects of their lives are minimised or erased from historical records, particularly their formative female relationships.

Arthur Nikisch was a hugely influential figure in his day who left an indelible impression on the development of operatic and orchestral performance in the post-Wagnerian era. With the passage of time, however, charis-matic personalities quickly generate their own mythology, and disinter-ested historical investigation becomes harder to achieve. The literature on conducting regularly canonises Nikisch in such lofty terms as 'Apollo in Valhalla' or 'The Magician of the Podium'. Such encomia can up to a point be useful in illustrating how Nikisch was perceived in his own time; yet they all too easily stray into the realm of hyperbole and, in the case of a performing musician such as Nikisch, tell more of the effect than of the substance of his art. More instructive are the opinions, not to say misgivings, of those who experienced Nikisch in person. Why did Wilhelm Furtwängler report Richard Strauss as saying 'Nikisch has the capacity to draw a sound from an orchestra that the rest of us just do not possess' and what might Strauss have meant by that remark? Why did Adrian Boult regard Nikisch as a great interpreter of only of very few pieces? Why did Otto Klemperer describe him as a better conductor than he was a musician? What does the anecdote cited by Adorno of the audience member who asked her fellow concert-goer to 'wake me up when Nikisch starts mesmerising' actually tell us?