Geoffrey Manton Building, Manchester Metropolitan University, Lecture Theatre 1
In March 2021, Misha Ewen joined Historic Royal Palaces, the charity that looks after six palaces including Hampton Court and the Tower of London, as its first Curator for Inclusive History. What attracted her to the post was the opportunity to reshape the narrative of these historic sites through the inclusion of different voices, examination of alternate archives, and excavation of other stories. In this paper, Misha discusses how her work researching and disseminating these stories has developed, including the gains to be had by bringing social history to bear on the early modern palace.
Dr Misha Ewen is an historian of early modern England and its empire in the Atlantic world. Before she joined Historic Royal Palaces, Misha held a Hallsworth Research Fellowship at the University of Manchester and postdoctoral position at the University of Kent. Her first book, The Virginia Venture: American Colonization and English Society, 1580-1660, is forthcoming with the University of Pennsylvania Press.
Geoffrey Manton Building, Manchester Metropolitan University, Lecture Theatre 1
Dr Sam Agbamu (Leverhulme Early Career Fellow, Royal Holloway, University of London). Sam is a classicist who is especially interested in the relationship between Latin literature and post-classical imperialism, as well as the role of the discipline of Classics in the formation of discourses of ‘race’ and nationhood.
For more about his research, teaching and publications, see his RHUL profile
This jointly-hosted public lecture is open to all and is a hybrid event. Please ensure that you book either a ‘in person’ or an ‘online’ ticket.
The Russian invasion of Ukraine has raised difficult questions for how the international community should respond. To maintain the usual links and interactions might appear to condone Russia’s actions while the escalation of tensions runs the danger of precipitating a more widespread conflict in Europe and perhaps even superpower confrontation. Discussions about possible human corridors, ceasefires, and ultimately peace, take place at the state level. We tend to focus on relations between states, and alliances of states but the C20th and especially the post-WWII period saw the rapid burgeoning of links between town and cities. These civic links are variously known as twinning, partnership, sister city, or friendship arrangements and typically involve a formal agreement. The purpose of these agreements is generally to develop mutual friendship and understanding, typically they have encouraged the exchange of information and visits, the development of educational and cultural ties. Overall, the hope has been that more interactions would make conflict less likely. It has to be said, that some twinning agreements have proved more dynamic and enduring than others and some have become dormant without being formally ended. Town and cities have generally seen twinning and friendship agreements as ‘good things’, but don’t necessarily have the resources or the will to maintain and develop them.
Plymouth while initially condemning the invasion of Ukraine announced that they did not intend to end their twinning relationship with the Black Sea port of Novorossiysk arguing that this, ”would send the wrong message”. A Plymouth City Council spokesperson said: “Following the Novichok poisoning on UK soil in March 2018, Plymouth City Council agreed to revoke any invitations to Russian officials. And that they did not want to punish the people of Novorossiysk “for the barbaric actions of their government.” However, by early March Plymouth had moved to suspend but not cut its ties with Novorossiysk.
Doncaster, Nottingham, Wakefield, and County Durham have gone one step further and ended rather than just suspended their agreements. Doncaster has ended its agreement with Ozyorsk. Nottingham has ended its links with Krasnodar and the Belarussian city of Minsk. Similarly, Wakefield has ended its agreement with Belgorod and County Durham has ended its agreement with Kostroma. However, in these last two cases the links were already inactive. The Wakefield council leader noted that it had been “dormant” for many years and for County Durham and Kostroma, there have “been no active projects . . .for some time.”
If civic links are still seen to be an important means to develop international understanding, that they have a role to play in establishing and re-establishing contacts between peoples, what conditions will be needed in order to “unsuspend” relations?
The creative digital studio, Visioning Lab, recently launched a Kickstarter for the ‘Strong Women of Victorian Manchester’ digital storytelling project. We spoke with creative producer, and story teller, Ellie Andrews, about the project, which hopes to develop a video game and more!
Learn more about the project, and donate to the Kickstarter here.
We look into the future of public history with a discussion on extended reality. MA researcher Suzie Cloves, talks about her extended reality project on Platt Fields Park. Listen below or on spotify here.
Join experts from MCPHH and beyond on a practical course to develop your academic historical work into formats suitable for wider publics.
Led by Professor Catherine Fletcher this free five-session course features a range of experts including Emma Nagouse from the production team of hit podcast You’re Dead to Me, Dr Mai Musié, independent public engagement specialist formerly of the Bodleian Libraries, Kate Wiles, interim editor of History Today and Dr Owen Rees, founder of #BadAncient and a regular contributor to podcasts and magazines.
Running online over five Tuesdays from 14 June to 12 July (10-3 each day), it will introduce you to essential techniques in communicating history to wider audiences.
The course will cover a range of different formats:
– short-form writing (for magazines and online)
– long-form writing (trade books)
– podcasts and radio
– engagement with the GLAM sector (Galleries, Libraries and Museums).
The final day will be your opportunity to present your own work.
By the end of the five sessions, you should have a good understanding of what is expected in these different contexts, and some practical ideas of where to take your own work next.
This course is free, and aimed at academic researchers (from the final year of PhD onwards), with little or no experience of this type of writing. It is essential that you have an existing piece of academic research (e.g., a close-to-final thesis chapter, article, or book chapter) that you would like to translate to other contexts.
While the course will operate primarily online, we will also offer collaborative workspace in Manchester for those who wish to take it up.
To express interest in participating, please complete the form here by Thursday 14 April. Successful applicants will be notified early in May.
By Andy Carter, PhD Researcher, Manchester Metropolitan University
One of the unfortunate side-effects of the Covid epidemic of the last two years has been the sporadic closure of archives during local and national lockdowns. I have been exceptionally fortunate in that a high percentage of the source material I have needed has been digitised and made available online. The British Newspaper Archive has proved an invaluable resource during the pandemic. In particular, it allowed me to undertake the research which underpins my recent History of Education article, ‘‘No true or just test of merit’: ‘The Public School Record’ 1886-1900.
The Public School Record (PSR) was a series of annual reports which, at the end of the 19th century, presented a range of statistics which might be used to assess the relative performance of various public, proprietary and grammar schools. As such, it was a forerunner of the school ‘league tables’ that have been a familiar feature of English education since the 1992 Education (Schools) Act and, like the modern tables, was a source of much controversy and debate, as teachers, journalists, politicians and parents discussed which methods and measures could, or should, be included. Much of this debate took place in the letters pages of the newspapers in the weeks leading up to and following the publication of the PSR each year, providing an easily accessible insight into how this way of looking at school performance was seen at the time.
The origins of the PSR were in January 1886, when Orlando Martyn wrote to the Pall Mall Gazette, reporting the results of 28 recent scholarships awarded at Oxford colleges. The point Martyn was trying to make was that the most prestigious public schools were not necessarily the most effective at winning open scholarships to universities. Defenders of these schools, including the headmaster of Rossall, Herbert Jones, wrote dismissing Martyn’s claims as simplistic and inaccurate, but one correspondent, Oxford undergraduate Harold Spender, took the time to compile a table of every scholarship won to Oxford over an entire academic year. This became the basis for the first edition of the PSR and Spender embarked on a successful journalistic career as a result.
The Pall Mall Gazette at that time was a Liberal leaning newspaper under the editorship of the crusading journalist W.T. Stead. The PSR seems to have been taken under the wing of his assistant editor, Edward Tyas Cook, along with the newly recruited Spender. Cook and Spender were to produce the PSR as a feature of the Pall Mall Gazette until 1893 when they moved to the Westminster Gazette. In 1896, Cook and his team moved again, this time to The Daily News, and once again the PSR went with them, remaining a feature until Cook was fired for his support of the Boer War.
During its fifteen-year lifespan, the PSR underwent multiple changes, with elements dropping in and out. The table of Oxbridge scholarships remained the main feature, but this was not necessarily a good measure of effectiveness given that only a tiny proportion of boys were capable of competing for such scholarships and that figures for some public schools were skewed by the large numbers of closed scholarships they had at their disposal. To counter this, other tables were produced which measured the numbers of boys achieving School Certificate passes or passing the entrance examinations for the Army and Navy. Reflecting the importance of sport in public schools, the reports eventually included extensive reports of the athletic records of each school as well.
Each change to the PSR was accompanied by voluminous correspondence as the pros and cons of different measures of success were debated by the interested parties. The result of this an incredibly rich vein of material, which not only gives us fifteen years of statistical data charting the performance of two hundred or so of the country’s leading schools, but also provides us with the responses and reactions to this data from headmasters and universities. My article gives a brief overview of the history of the PSR and its social and political impact, but such is the depth of material available that ample opportunity for further research remains.
The Georgian period produced some of the most famous and well-loved gardens in England and the design style was exported to properties across the world. Detailed analysis of garden design, style development, and the lives of famous designers has been the focus of garden historians for decades. However, most narratives end when the designer, his foremen and labourers finished their initial building projects and little direct attention has been paid to how people used and experienced the gardens. Many design histories might briefly mention walking or sports, but it is rare for a whole study to focus on these activities and the relationship between the space and its visitors. Kate Feluś’ Secret Life of the Georgian Garden (2016) is a great example of a work that explores the wide range of uses of gardens and the conditions required to perform them.
What did Georgians actually do with the gardens that they spent a significant amount of money and labour on? This question forms the basis of the third chapter of my thesis about the production and consumption of country house gardens beyond their designs. So far, I have looked at expenditure on building and maintaining gardens as well as the people that worked there and the wider professional networks of designers and suppliers.
The gardens at Audley End were laid out by Lancelot “Capability” Brown in the 1760s after decades of decline. This was a large improvement project that ran both over budget and beyond the original deadline. Other areas of the garden were remodelled over the next 50 years or so, but the overall structure of the garden remains recognisable as Brown’s landscape design. The layout includes vast swathes of lawn, a ha-ha, a widened river to imitate a lake, and a number of garden buildings.
The most common activity done by Georgian visitors and residents of Audley End was simply to move around the space and take in the various views. This could be done on foot, on horseback or in a carriage. All three were popular garden activities for the leisured class in England, either in their own gardens or the gardens of others. Carriages offered a faster and raised experience of the garden and wider parkland and required much less effort for the individual. However not all areas of the gardens were accessible by carriage. At Audley End, the Elysian Garden has narrower winding paths that takes the walker over features such as the Tea Bridge and Cascade.
Garden buildings such as the Tea Bridge and Turkish Tent depicted in Tomkins’ paintings were ideal places to take refreshment, rest and socialise in small groups. Other areas of the garden facilitated grand celebrations and large gatherings of people. Cricket at Audley End was often a great spectacle in the 1840s, played on the lawn between the house and the river. Large crowds came together to watch the Audley End XI play Cambridge University, Marylebone C.C. and other local sides. Luncheons for 80-90 guests were laid out for invited guests and many more spectators from the neighbourhood came out in support of their team.
The nature of being out of doors means any activity was weather dependent. In August 1845, the cricket was played on a “fine day without a single shower”, but three years later “violent showers of rain” drove the players into their tents and the spectators into the house. But the gardens were not only explored and used in the summer months. One snowy day in February 1844, Lord Braybrooke walked out with his friend and diarist Joseph Romilly and two sisters to visit two sheltered sites, the aviary and the conservatories. The gardens at Audley End were enjoyed all year round.
As France heads toward its presidential election in April, the country’s history is once again a stake in the political culture wars. Eric Zemmour, a far-right journalist and author, is standing as a candidate. Zemmour has gained notoriety for condemning an ‘anti-French’ reading of the nation’s history and challenging the supposed anti-national political correctness of historians. In return, historians have attacked Zemmour’s selective and highly tendentious, not to say dishonest, reading of the past.
Notably, Zemmour has claimed that France’s wartime government – popularly known as the Vichy regime – protected French Jews while it sacrificed foreign Jews to the Nazi occupier. This claim has a long history. Vichy’s apologists sought to rehabilitate the regime in the immediate post-war years through the idea that Marshal Philippe Pétain had shielded the French from the worst of German excesses. Historians have comprehensively disproved this claim. Nonetheless, during an interview with radio station Europe 1 in September 2021, Zemmour contended that, ‘Vichy protected French Jews and handed over foreign Jews’.
In February 2022, a group of historians made a public intervention in the controversy. The fifty-eight page pamphlet, Zemmour contre l’histoire (Zemmour against history), published by Gallimard, brought together specialists of twentieth century France to combat the far-right polemicist’s ‘falsifications and political manipulations of the past’. They took aim at nineteen of Zemmour’s claims about the French past, from the time of Clovis to the trials of former collaborators during the 1990s. Each section begins with a quotation from Zemmour, followed by a counterargument from the historians demonstrating the inaccuracies or downright falseness of the presidential candidate’s contention.
Priced under four Euros and published in black-and-white with none of the frills of an academic or popular title, in content and form this is a historical corrective to Zemmour’s ultranationalist ignorance and a non-partisan political intervention. The historians accept that interpretations of the past can change. They reject, however, the wilful distortion of historical facts to suit political agendas.
It is difficult to imagine historians in Britain taking such a public stand against a political candidate. It is true that at the time of the Brexit referendum in 2016, a number of historians divided into the Remainer ‘Historians for Britain in Europe’ and the Leaver ‘Historians for Britain’. Their interventions, however, were limited to online fora, opinion pieces, and letters to national newspapers.
Zemmour contre l’histoire reflects a public standing enjoyed by French academics in contrast to the more limited public roles of their British counterparts. It speaks, too, to the extent to which France has confronted the difficult episodes of its past, however incomplete this process remains. Meanwhile, recent controversies in Britain over the so-called culture wars attest to the lamentable reluctance of a nation to come to terms with the darker aspects of its history. Perhaps we could learn a thing or two from the French.
By 2020 I had my PhD, two pop history books and an academic book under review. I had produced research articles, edited chapters, organised conferences, and had begun preparation for an edited volume. I wanted to create a public history project, one that was mine, but that I could share with others. So, with the support of Ancient World Magazine, I established the fact-checking website Bad Ancient, which is steadily growing an amazing network of contributors from undergraduate students up to full Professors. Most contributors are approached by me, looking for relevant experts to answer queries, but some have also offered unsolicited help. In that case, their name goes on a spreadsheet and they get sent relevant queries to answer if they wish.
That project is going from strength to strength, but there were questions about my own writing career: should I return to the publishers and magazines that had always supported me, or should I try and take the next step. The next step for this meant bigger publishers, but bigger publishers do not accept unsolicited proposals. I needed a literary agent.
For over a year, I sent dozens and dozens of submissions to a host of agents who specialised in, or were explicitly asking for, history writers. One replied in the negative, none of the others replied at all. At a loss of what to do, I reached out to someone who had successfully made this transition, MCPHH’s own Prof. Catherine Fletcher. We spoke about the book market, the publishing market, indeed the history market. What seems to be selling, what is not selling. What makes for an interesting topic vs what makes for an interesting read. I drafted a full book proposal, roughly 10,000 words long, and Prof. Fletcher put me in touch with the agency that represents her. A foot in the door, no question, but there alone I stood waiting for judgement. After a year of back and forth, edits, re-edits, and at one point a complete change of topic and focus, the agency was happy with the pitch. Now they agreed to sign me, and to submit the proposal to a variety of publishing houses. If you are simply looking to do some popular history writing on the side as a hobby, I do not recommend going through this final process!
So, the book idea sold, and The Far Edges of the Known World will be out in autumn 2024. This moment was a long time in the making, with little guidance available for someone wanting to begin writing popular history. I made mistakes, learned the hard way, and established some guidelines I follow to this day:
I do not write for free. If I do write for free, it must be for the development of my portfolio/personal brand/career.
Due to point number one, I learned to chase invoices with gusto. The trick is to be assertive in what is rightfully yours – I cannot leave a plumber unpaid, so why should a writer be treated differently?
Build your network. The network I crafted is what got me my first book contract and to this day allows the Bad Ancient website to function.
To create a network: be nice, follow up by email, be reliable, ask for what you want/need, and offer help whenever you can.
I work in 5-year plans (yes, yes, I know, I hate me too!). What do you actually want to achieve, and what does that look like? Break that up into steps, what do you need to do first – what next – then what? Say no to work that do not help achieve this plan (if you need to, of course).
A PhD in history does not make you a writer – writing for the public is a very different style to academic prose.
Historical credibility is paramount. Poetic license exists for scene setting and filling in gaps, but the evidence must be at the heart of it all.
It is better to be a good writer that can be trusted, than an excellent one who cannot.
Spot an opportunity and grasp it without hesitation or apology.