The literary formulation of Parnell's last year is a construct in which romantic notions of the demonic figure if not prominently then at least powerfully. Parnell died in 1891 and the great concentration of W. B. Yeats's writing about Parnell dates from the 1930s. The young Yeats discounted eighteenth-century writing, and his rediscovery of its value for him broadly coincides with the final emergence of Parnell the persona from a silent chrysalis. In The Literary Fantastic, Neil Cornwell has adapted the approach of Tzvetan Todorov to redefine what gothic literature was and how it worked. Preferring terms like 'the pure fantastic' to ambiguous ones such as 'the gothic', Cornwell locates the fantastic on 'a frontier between two adjacent realms'. Yeats's gothic, as evidenced in his demonic transformation of Parnell, is implicated in his sense of international politics from the First World War onwards.

This chapter returns to the question of the distinctiveness of the co-operative movements in the Nordic countries, while at the same time considering the significance of co-operation for the emergence of the idea of the Nordic ‘middle way’ in the 1930s. The emergence of a joint Nordic position within the ICA helped to raise the international profile of the region and by the 1930s the successes of the Nordic co-operative movements were attracting the attention of foreign journalists, including the American Marquis Childs whose bestseller Sweden – the Middle Way (1936) dealt extensively with co-operation. The chapter analyses some of the reasons for the attractiveness of Nordic co-operation, in particular its claims to reconcile the interests of consumers and producers and also its efforts to tackle the problem of monopoly. President Roosevelt’s 1936 Inquiry on Co-operative Enterprise in Europe dealt extensively with the Nordic countries, and provides an important snapshot of the status of the movement in the mid-1930s.

This chapter begins by examining the effects-laden anthologies of the 1960s and 1970s which, in their heyday, offered original and adapted teleplays that pushed the boundaries of television production through the visualisation of the supernatural and the grotesque. It turns towards the moment in which grand guignol Gothic was no longer confined to a dim and distant past but was brought up to date, with a shift towards a more quotidian kind of horror. The sense of innovation and experimentation in Harry Moore's instruction is very clearly coupled with the explicit portrayal of gory horror in Late Night Horror, emphasising both the need to display the possibilities of the new technology and the desire to place blood and gore on show in close-up. By comparison television horror is authenticated through its representation of the everyday life of the composer within a recognisable domestic space.

This chapter looks at which frames were most prominent in the media coverage of the referendum. The frames identified earlier are traced in the coverage of the end of the campaign on BBC Scotland and STV, the two broadcasters that produce dedicated content for audiences in Scotland. This is complemented by an analysis of newspaper articles in ten Scottish daily and Sunday newspapers. The strategic game and policy frames were the two most dominant frames in both television and newspaper coverage, with the game frame becoming more prominent as the referendum date approached. The chapter concludes by discussing the democratic implications of representing the referendum as a strategic competition between political sides and as a decision about policy.

This chapter examines a few of the glass painting operations and assesses their significance within the early Victorian market for stained glass. It illustrates whether Thomas Willement's glass was installed in ecclesiastical or secular contexts. William Wailes ran the most successful stained glass studio in early Victorian England. John Hardman was the only glass-painter allowed to exhibit in the Medieval Court and he was the only Englishman to win a prize medal for stained glass. There is some basis for suspecting that William Warrington was prejudiced against Wailes, and this too can be traced to the lower prices that Wailes charged for his glass. James Henry Nixon worked on the restoration of the famous medieval stained glass at St Neots in Cornwall as early as 1829. Eighteenth-century Gothic did, in fact, create considerable enthusiasm for stained glass.

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The 1957-1962 period was crucial for Terence Fisher. This chapter argues that it was a period of considerable achievement for the director. If one discounts Hammer's The Terror of the Tongs, Fisher was actually responsible for all of Hammer's costume horror films in the 1957-1962 period. Later, from 1962 onwards, Fisher's relationship with Hammer would become more sporadic, but during Hammer's initial burst of horror-related activity, Fisher was, even by his standards, astonishingly prolific on behalf of the company. The authority-subjection nexus around which Fisher's Dracula had been structured was carried over into The Revenge of Frankenstein, with a strict division observed between strong and weak men. Fisher's The Stranglers of Bombay offers a half-hearted, qualified and somewhat confused defence of certain aspects of British rule in India while the more interesting The Mummy traces the collapse of British authority.

Using the Edinburgh Fascio as a case study, this chapter explores the 'fascistisation' of Italian communities in inter-war Britain. In 1927, Mussolini brought the Fasci firmly under the control of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs with the creation of the Direzione Generate degli Italiani all'Estero (DGIE; General Bureau of Italians Abroad) with Piero Parini as its head. It is generally agreed that the Ethiopian invasion in October 1935 led to a great deal of popularity for Mussolini's regime. Scholarship has attempted to qualify the powerful concept of 'italiani, brava gente' and raise questions of responsibility, culpability and complicity in relation to Italy's Fascist past. British Italian historiography has appeared keen to assert that the Fasci were social clubs which simply attracted members who were patriotic about their fatherland. The Balilla sought to provide 'moral and physical education for the young according to the principles and ideals sponsored by Fascism'.

This chapter focuses on the key actors who ran communication campaigns during the referendum, aiming to attract media attention for their views. It focuses particularly on the main Yes and No campaigns and the political parties that comprised them, as well as civil society organisations that did not support either outcome but still communicated to the media about issues they felt were significant in the debate. The chapter discusses the frames these participant actors promoted in the public debate. It is based on interviews with communication directors on both sides of the argument and representatives from impartial civil society organisations. It explores how different actors understood and defined what the referendum was about and how these understandings may be organized conceptually into different frames. It looks at similarities, differences and interactions between the frames that different actors proposed and explores whether different sides of the argument had ‘ownership’ over certain frames.

This chapter discusses the global history from the particular vantage points of the 'Nyasaland Networks' that connected the Malawi region, Southern Africa and the British Empire. From the Zambesi expedition onwards, dynamic and pluralistic medical encounters, exchanges and connections between the British and Malawian people emerged across Southern Africa and the British Empire. The chapter explores this complex history by placing medicine in the frameworks of patientsities and networks. It provides a new approach to the study of medicine and colonialism, expanding the ways in which plural medicines can be investigated in global history. The chapter argues that mobility, manifested through networks, was a crucial aspect of the intertwined medical cultures that shared the search for medicines in changing conditions. It illustrates the colonial police investigations, mission Christian informants, European settlers and imperial laboratories all played their parts in enquiries into Central African medicinal and poisonous plants.

This chapter examines the letters and proposals regarding French education that offers insight into how citizens sought to understand, articulate, and navigate the changing currents of revolutionary politics. Efforts to design new political institutions in the early years of the French Revolution were accompanied by attempts to reform or reimagine existing ones so that they might contribute to the emerging social, political, and economic orders. The continued prospect, and then promise, of a national system of public instruction meant that local efforts remained self-consciously provisional. The results varied widely from town to town and region to region, ranging from administrative and institutional paralysis to relatively autonomous and ambitious attempts to reimagine how schools were run. As theoretically 'national institutions,' the schools seemed to offer a glimpse into possible futures for the Revolution and the nation.

In this final chapter, the relevant findings of the research are reviewed and applied to a broader context of humanitarianism worldwide. An analysis of research questions will be undertaken based on the assumptions first presented in Chapter 1. Within each area, the research findings will be placed in a wider context and their implications will be discussed. By unpacking these, the underlying policy issue will be addressed and discussed further with application to wider cases. The aim here is to get past simplistic analysis and explanations such as the idea that aid organizations and the military have intrinsically incompatible goals and organizational cultures. Instead a more nuanced and well-informed understanding of the implications is provided. In the process, a framework for understanding the contexts within which humanitarian-military relations occur is presented.

John Toms inhabited a different world from the people who produced the ecclesiological discourse on stained glass. Toms was a multi-skilled artisan who carried out a wide variety of tasks. Toms's market was largely concentrated on Wellington and its surrounding parishes. The iconography of Toms's glazing schemes seems to have depended largely on the religious alignment of his patrons. The majority of Toms's commissions can be traced back to the Sanfords through personal links. The materials Toms had at his disposal, or, more accurately, chose to use, did not alter radically from 1848 to the end of his glass-painting career in the early 1860s. William Warrington stands out as an example of how the materials so criticised by Charles Winston in the late 1840s could be used to create very attractive windows, though this required a refined painting technique.