By rewriting Eusebius–Jerome's and Sigebert's chronicle, Robert processed the Galfridian, early English and Norman pasts in the light of Henry II's royal accession. At the same time, Eusebius–Jerome's and Sigebert's chronicle articulated a specific politics of time, presenting universal history as the framework for contextualising the ebb and flow of empires. Henry II's coronation in 1154 inaugurated a new political season for Normandy and England. His actions as king led to the emergence of the so-called Angevin empire, a conglomerate of territorial principalities that included England, Normandy, Anjou, Maine, Poitou, Aquitaine, Brittany, Wales and part of Ireland. However, in its current use, ‘Angevin empire’ identifies a historiographical construct rather than a political entity institutionally aware of its imperial character. Nonetheless, historians such as John Gillingham and Martin Aurell agree on the utility of the concept of the Angevin empire to describe the aggregation of principalities acquired by Henry II. More recently, Fanny Madeline has shown the pervasiveness of discourses of empire as hegemony to describe the power of Anglo-Norman and Angevin kings. Because of his privileged relationship with Empress Matilda and Henry II, Robert was a close witness to the realisation of this political design. For this reason, this chapter will look at how Robert recorded contemporary events. From c. 1156 the Chronography turned into a work in progress that Robert updated and revised throughout his life. The erasures, revisions and changes of hand in Avranches, Bibliothèque patrimoniale, MS 159 can illuminate the complicated process of writing after Robert's abbatial appointment at Mont-Saint-Michel.

The avenue of Protest was also open to other interested parties to use as a first step towards obtaining compensation or averting blame from themselves for what they perceived as commercial fraud or breaking of a commercial agreement on the part of the captain. Supercargoes, agents, owners and citizens all recorded their grievances at Malacca. While the Protests in this section consistently spring from economic roots, two of them also concern the important role of supercargoes and commanders (in this case Supercargo De Vos and Captain Allan) as carriers of official letters.

The Protests (ten cases in chronological order)

On 21 April 1791 Jacob van Kal and his company protested (in Dutch) against the losses suffered through the late arrival of cargo that had been contracted by James Scott of Penang to be delivered by Captain Stewart of the Swift. The cargo, at least 1,000 piculs of red arrack, had deteriorated, as it should have been delivered by the end of February that year. At this stage of his life, van Kal (1754–1829) was a prominent member of the Dutch burgher community in Malacca, holding the positions of secretary of police and tax collector. He was brother-in-law to Governor Abraham Couperus with whom he was in business and in 1792 was appointed Resident of Riau.

In Protests of 10 and 11 January 17984 Amirzan Zachariah, a Calcutta merchant ‘now residing at Mallacca’, declared in an English statement that he had loaded on board the ship Armenia nine chests of spices, including cinnamon and nutmeg, but that the captain, John Sands, had not stood by the agreed price, had refused to sign the bill of lading and had sailed away before concluding the business.

As David Cannadine showed in his history of the National Portrait Gallery, the Gallery (created in 1856) was one of a number of metropolitan institutions founded in the early Victorian period to reflect the cultural interests of the burgeoning London intelligentsia. This essay aims to portray another of the institutions that he mentioned there, the London Library, founded in 1841, and similarly to situate it in the context of its times and to chart the particular influence on it of key individuals. It argues that the Library should be seen as a place in which a number of Victorian literary networks intersected. It examines the ideals and actions of its founder, Thomas Carlyle, and analyses the backgrounds, careers and interests of some of its most prominent early subscribers. The ‘men of letters’ who established and valued it were prominent journalists and writers, who relied on its facilities to support their conquest of Victorian print culture. Many of them also used their pens in a different context, as servants of government departments. At this time, there was no hard-and-fast distinction between career professionals and literary men, but instead a lot of common ground between them. So the essay explores particularly the links between the Library and the Victorian civil service, and some of the policy interests that they shared.

Enchanted ships, magical invisibility, mysterious requirements, oaths of faithfulness in love: in this passage from the Middle English Partonope of Blois, the fairy lady touches upon many of the characteristics that made ‘faerie’ a subject of enduring fascination in medieval romance. Fairy lovers and the alluring otherworld are ubiquitous across the romance corpus, and many of the most compelling supernaturally powerful female characters in Middle English are associated with faerie. These texts are situated at the richly overlapping intersection of myth, folklore, and courtly tradition, with motifs and patterns that outlived them, echoed in the narrative structures of folk and fairy tales from the early modern period into contemporary popular literary imagination. Fairy lovers in romance also occupy narrative space through their unusual financial, sexual, legal, and personal authority. This space invokes subversive desire and creates a dialogue across time – like the narratives’ protagonists and original readers, modern audiences too find these texts enjoyable, desirable. The persistent popularity of these texts signals a medieval openness toward, and interest in, stories that play with, invert, and destabilise norms of gender and power.

If you must love

love completely –

so the migrant

feels no nostalgia –

except the nostalgia

of the new home;

if you must hate

take your time –

for the migrant

also contributes

to the success

of the new home;

if you must tell –

tell how much

the migrant gives

without your asking

for he takes less

from the new home

as he strives to feel

home in the new home;

if you must ask

ask not the migrant

to go back home

for He was also one

and never returned

but in the Second Coming;

if you must tell

tell it as it is

we are all migrants

migrating into and out of

walls that always wall us

from the womb to the grave;

if you must represent

represent them well

that live in your home –

for they are also human

in the humanity of us all –

the homes we do not choose

as in the homes we choose;

if you must give –

give love, give hope

enlighten those

empower those

that seek what you have

so you can be great.

Women, historically and today, have given birth to foetuses, infants, children. This is of course an obvious statement, and something that goes without saying, for without such history none of us would be here. What is less obvious, and has received much less cultural attention, are the other objects that are produced in people's bodies, and are expelled by the body, or removed through therapeutic or medical intervention. Women, gender diverse, and intersex people do not only have the capacity to conceive foetuses: their bodies can also create a range of other things, including molar pregnancy, fibroids, uterine tumours, ovarian tumours, menstrual lumps, and so forth. These uterine productions and not-quite-pregnancies are parts of reproductive experience. They have a history, and quite a long one, as I have shown in this book. Despite this, non-foetal pregnancies, pregnant-like embodiment, and uterine expulsions have been little researched in historical scholarship. Subjects such as infertility and miscarriage are gaining scholarly and public attention, yet much less is given to women's experiences of conditions which produce non-foetal pregnant embodiment or uterine expulsions, such as molar pregnancy, placental disease, uterine tumours, or false pregnancy. Similar to miscarriage and infertility, these experiences have often been silenced, overlooked, or considered too ‘taboo’ for discussion in public forums. This is gradually beginning to change with stories of peoples’ experiences appearing in newspapers and particularly on social media. There is growing public recognition that many of these experiences are often felt, physically and emotionally, as a type of pregnancy loss.

Introduction

During the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries farming in the North Sea Lowlands reached its zenith. Following the difficult years of the first half of the eighteenth century, characterised by economic depression, devastating floods and cattle disease, a period of prosperity began that extended until the 1870s, with only one interruption between c. 1817 and 1835. The numerous large, imposing farms that can still be found in the lowlands mostly date from this predominantly prosperous period. In the advanced regions, farming stabilised at a high level of productivity, holding size tended to increase further and as a result social inequality also increased. The regions that were relatively ‘backward’ started catching up. By 1870 Groningen and the English fenlands were among the most prosperous and productive areas in the Lowlands. The late nineteenth-century agricultural depression brought an end to this period of prosperity, prompting the beginning of a new period, in which the lowlands were no longer in the vanguard, but instead had trouble keeping up with the uplands. Signs of the beginning of stagnation could already be observed before 1880 in the coastal regions from Flanders up to and including Friesland, and it is these regions which will be the subject of the next section. This is followed by a section on regions that still had potential for further development and which were catching up (or not): the English Fens, Groningen, and the Frisian fens. The third section reveals how north-west Germany fared after the devastating Christmas Flood of 1717. Finally, the regions that had not been transformed will be discussed.

Louth St James Churchwardens: 1500–70

In his seminal history of two millenniums of interlacustrine Africa, Jean-Pierre Chrétien argues that the region is characterised by a diversity of cultures, and political systems in constant flux: it is impossible to map out the region to separate it from neighbouring regions or societies. This chapter argues that interlacustrine Africa is in itself a region. It makes three arguments: as shared identity, a competition between rival kingdoms over the hegemony in the region, and interactions between the elites as part of that competition. Regions are not eternal and unchangeable monuments of civilisations, but spaces of interactions shaped by shared understandings, identities and histories. Many of the region's political communities share historical narratives of their origin and past. Notably, the elites developed a regional identity and culture; they often belonged to clans and family networks that crossed the borders of their political communities. This shared history was constantly redefined because these communities were bound in mutual relationships; sometimes these were rather violent, but often also shaped by cooperation and exchange. Historians of Eastern Africa have often highlighted the many similarities in the patterns of kinship and settlement, the emergence of kingdoms as a predominant feature of political organisations and the many cross-references in the oral traditions of the societies in the region. Religious cults like the nyabingi (one of several millennial cults which centred on the myth of a ancient or rightful ruler who once embodied the norms of the community) transcended the political boundaries for centuries.

The Protests (five cases)

On 1 December 1803 Captain Willem Verhaage of the private Dutch brig Carolina protested at Malacca against the seizure of his vessel by HMS Rattlesnake.

The events leading up to the arrest illustrate the political circumstances operating in the area at the time.

The British had occupied Dutch Amboina in 1796 under the same conditions as they occupied Malacca, that is to forestall a French occupation. Under the Treaty of Amiens of 1802 the British-held Dutch possessions in the East Indies were to be returned to the Dutch and, in spite of an unofficial British policy of procrastination, Amboina was restored to Dutch rule on 28 February 1803 by the Resident, Colonel James Oliver. Under Oliver's authorisation (on behalf of the EIC) the Carolina sailed for Madras on 6 May as a cartel ship carrying British troops. Captain Verhaage was also authorised to purchase goods at Madras (which he accordingly did, taking on board a load of cotton and copper) and to return to Amboina under the protection of a ‘Cartel Pass’ dated 2 September 1803. The Carolina embarked for Batavia on 5 September intending to travel via the Sunda Strait, but bad weather around Aceh dictated a route down the Malacca Strait. The brig arrived at Malacca to take on provisions on 30 October. It departed again on 3 November only to meet with a number of pirates around the Carimons and the Strait of Dryon on the 10th, which convinced the captain to return to Malacca, where he anchored in the Roads on the 16th.