Chapter 1 explores travel writing about Wales to show how, as Britishness became an increasingly important cultural category, so too did written accounts of “ancient Britain” become more invested in representing Wales not only as beautiful, but also as infinitely productive. Early and mid-century writers like Daniel Defoe and Samuel Johnson cast Wales as sublimely foreboding and suffused with a masculine classical cultural heritage, but later writers reimagined the country as exemplifying a timeless and quintessentially British type of beauty: namely, the aesthetic they named the picturesque. Later, Welsh writers like Richard Llwyd drew attention to the erasures and contradictions inherent to picturesque view-making, articulating an incipient critique of imperialist landscape aesthetics.

Popular support for war is widely understood to solidify Britain’s sense of itself in the eighteenth century. This chapter argues that objections to war shape Britain’s identity in the closing decades of the century, as the people are called upon to evaluate the justness of the nation’s acts in war. These acts are understood to be public acts, authored by each and every individual, including those who do not directly wage war. The attention to public responsibility coincides with renewed scrutiny of war’s harms, and the moral urgency of recognising and halting war’s killing animates philosophical essays, sermons, and poems, including works by Jeremy Bentham and Anna Letitia Barbauld. The period’s anti-war arguments foreground concepts of injury and responsibility that anticipate later developments in international law and ongoing discussions in moral philosophy.

Throughout most of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the Habsburg court resided predominantly in Vienna. Consequently, the Habsburg monarchs of Bohemia rarely visited Prague, and visits of the entire court were even rarer because they were expensive both for the monarch and the city. Therefore, each coronation of a Habsburg emperor as the Bohemian king was a significant event reflecting both the immediate political context and more general cultural and historical trends, such as the role of music in court ceremonies and the relationship between Bohemian and Viennese musical practices. This chapter sketches the relationship between coronation music and music and operatic developments in Prague in general, particularly in connection to the coronations of Charles VI (1723), Maria Theresa (1743), Leopold II (1791), and Francis II (1792).

In the late eighteenth century, the viceroyalty of New Spain extended its control over Alta California, introducing secular cultural practices like music, dance, and drama which gained popularity among traders, soldiers, and hybrid communities, blurring the traditional boundaries of race, gender, and class. These societal shifts foreshadowed the forthcoming wars of independence (1810–1821) and clashed with missionary liturgy, accentuating the growing divide between monastic orders and secular society. This chapter focuses on the censorship of Fermín de Reygadas’s play, Astucias por heredar, un sobrino a un tío ("Tricks to Inherit: a Nephew and His Uncle"). Initially censored in the viceroyalty, the play was later transported and performed in Alta California, only to be concealed by Hubert Bancroft, who omitted all references to it in his History of California. This play survived two forms of censorship: Spanish colonial moral censorship and Anglo-American disregard towards a text and a performance that did not fit his racialized historiographic narratives. The chapter also explores the play’s staging in Villa de Branciforte near the Santa Cruz mission and concludes by comparing two performances of the play, considering the role of language, location, and early Californio history in contemporary decolonial reenactments.

White cultural elites in the US capital of Philadelphia in the 1780s and 1790s depicted Native Americans (or “Indians”) as vanishing peoples, soon to be replaced by Anglo culture. The fledgling nation’s premier naturalist Bejamin Smith Barton and the consecrated poet of the American Revolution Philip Freneau turned to Spanish American antiquarianism to invent a glorious antiquity for North America. They learned from Antonio de Ulloa’s Noticas Americanas (1772) and Francisco Javier Clavijero’s Storia Antica del Messico (1781) how to practice antiquarian materialism, then chose early Republican literary and scientific periodicals to disseminate their conquest of the Native American past. Those two americanistas in particular showed how to collect Indigenous artifacts, assemble them, and invest them with European meanings, which inspired the first generation of US Americanists to relegate Native American life to the dustbin of prehistory and at once fabricate their own Whiteness.

For all that scholars have challenged the notion that the novel rose in conjunction with Enlightenment individualism, empiricism, and the modern nation-state, it’s still largely seen as an essentially Eurocentric form that can tell us much about how authors and readers thought about the rest of the world but little about the world itself. Ultimately turning to Samuel Johnson’s Rasselas as an example, this chapter makes a case for how decentralizing Europe from our perceptions of eighteenth-century geographical discourse changes what literary scholars might see and say about the continuities between the realist novel and the global contexts from which it grew.

Although a product of his time – the literary traditions of Pope, Addison, and Swift; the Toryism and churchmanship of the eighteenth century – Samuel Johnson also transcended it through his own gifts and forceful character. After a difficult early life, marked by melancholy, a troubled relationship with his family, and an early departure from Oxford University, Johnson began to find his way in the 1730s. He married Elizabeth Porter, moved to London, and began to make his mark through work at the Gentleman’s Magazine and works such as the Life of Savage. He achieved renown as an essayist and fame as the compiler of the Dictionary but also suffered from bereavement and continuing financial insecurity. After the award of a government pension in 1762, Johnson’s works have a more relaxed style, and his final major work, the Lives of the Poets, helped to establish this era as the Age of Johnson.