Environment, Technology, and Community in Salisbury

Author(s):  
Robert B. Gordon

Salisbury’s particular combination of natural resources allowed iron- making to continue for nearly 200 years from its 1736 start. In the first hundred years of mining and smelting, the district’s entrepreneurs had established a place for themselves in the national market for high-quality iron products while they managed their mineral, waterpower, and forest resources to meet the demands of expanded production. Each resource offered different challenges. An ironmaker could cut wood without thought of replacement or could manage woodland for sustained yield. As miners dug deeper for ore, they had more spoil to dispose of. They also had to devise drainage systems for their pits. Waterpower systems needed maintenance, repairs after freshets, control of their watersheds if siltation of the power ponds was to be avoided, and cooperative agreements among users. To meet the demands of expanding business, a forge owner might have to develop a new power site, as Forbes & Adam did when they put their second rolling mill in Woodville instead of Canaan. Fuel supply eventually proved the most critical natural resource problem for the ironmakers. Woodland previously burned by Indians made a good initial source of ironworks fuel, since wood from small trees coaled easily. The Lakeville blast furnace had a capacity of 2.5 tons of iron per day and fuel consumption of 250 bushels of charcoal per ton of iron made. In 1776 the furnace operated seven months, the length of a typical blast, and so would have made about 525 tons of iron while consuming fuel from about 200 acres (0.3 square miles) of woodland. At this rate of production, the furnace would have consumed at most 5.4 square miles of forest, 9 percent of the area of the town of Salisbury, between its start-up date (1762) and 1780. An eighteenth-century bloomery typically made about 250 pounds of iron per day with a fuel rate of about six. If it worked 300 days per year (a high estimate), it would have used wood at the rate of 42 acres per year. From 1736 to 1780, one bloomery would have consumed the wood from 2.9 square miles of forest.

1972 ◽  
Vol 18 ◽  
pp. 330-347

Hildebrand Wolfe Harvey came of a family which had for long lived in Essex. His ancestor Sir John Morley of Blue Bridge, Halstead, had found a cure for scrofula, the King’s Evil, more effective than the touch of the sovereign. Sir John’s granddaughter, Dorothy Morley, in the mid-eighteenth century had married the Rev. Bridges Harvey. A later Bridges Harvey, a barrister of Lincoln’s Inn, married Ellen Brown of Ipswich in 1846, their second son, Henry Allington, being born at Shenfield in 1849. On 13 January 1885 at St Annes Church, Dawson Street, Dublin, Henry was to marry Laetitia, daughter of Peter Kingsley Wolfe, a descendant of General James Wolfe, the hero of the Battle of Quebec in 1759. Henry was a partner in the firm of Foster, Mason and Harvey of Mitcham, Surrey, later to amalgamate with Hadfields. The firm manufactured high-quality, long-lasting paint. It seems that the firm failed to adapt to the demand from do-it-yourself customers who prefer often to change their colour schemes using cheaper paint at frequent intervals. The firm has now gone out of business.


1996 ◽  
Vol 21 (2) ◽  
pp. 141-146
Author(s):  
Jaroslaw Komorowski

The first phase of a long and complex process of the Polish reception of William Shakespeare's oeuvre ended in the middle of the nineteenth century with the popularization of new translations and the gradual elimination of French and German classicist adaptations. Vilna, vital centre of Polish culture, science and art, was the birthplace of Polish Romanticism and a hotbed of theatrical innovation. Vilna was also, at the turn of the eighteenth century, the capital of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, and one of the major cities of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. The school stage of Vilna Academy, established by Stefan Batory in 1578, had been active since 1582. In 1639, English actors belonging to Robert Archer's company may have visited the town; though the performances planned by King Wladyslaw IV did not take place. A permanent professional theatre was opened in 1785, when Wojciech Boguslawski, the greatest personality of the theatre of the Polish Enlightenment, came up from Warsaw with his troupe.


1978 ◽  
Vol 12 (1) ◽  
pp. 77-96 ◽  
Author(s):  
K. N. Chaudhuri

There can be few aspects of Indian studies more neglected than that of historical geography. Within this larger area of neglect, urban history occupies a special place. The indifference with which Indian historians have approached the urban heritage of the subcontinent is all the more difficult to understand because to contemporary European visitors, the merchants and other travellers, the towns and cities of Mughal India held a profound fascination. From the time of Tomé Pires and his highly perceptive Suma Oriental down to the end of the eighteenth century, stories of Indian travels and the accompanying descriptions of Mughal urban life continually entertained the popular literary audience. Not all of them understood or reported accurately what they saw. As the Scottish sea captain and country trader, Alexander Hamilton, who had an unrivalled knowledge of the sea ports and the coastal towns of India, pointed out with some candour, one great misfortune which attended the western travellers in India was their ignorance of the local languages. But the manifest contrast between the physical appearance of the European cities and those of Asia provoked some considerable and sensitive analysis of the nature of the urban processes in the two continents. Perhaps the most able and penetrating comments on the Mughal political, economic, and civic order came from the pen of the Dutch merchant, Francisco Pelsaert, and the French physician, François Bernier.


Author(s):  
Edward González-Tennant

Chapter 2 presents a history of Rosewood beginning with a brief overview of previous research into the town’s past. Most of the research takes place in response to a statewide conversation in the early and mid-1990s. Growing media attention encouraged Floridians to grapple with the meaning of Rosewood’s destruction in the past and present. The attention encouraged the state legislature to compensate the survivors and descendants of the massacre; that compensation represents the primary example of reparations granted to African Americans in the United States. To better understand the events of 1923, Florida’s state legislature commissioned a group of historians to investigate and write a concise history of the town and its destruction. The resulting report, based on four months of research, remains the authoritative treatment of the 1923 riot. The report, a few articles, a popular book, and a Hollywood movie all contribute to public knowledge and representations of Rosewood. González-Tennant’s overview of Rosewood’s history adds to previous research by offering a comprehensive look at similar events in American history. González-Tennant contextualizes Rosewood within broader social trends beginning in the eighteenth century and continuing until today.


Author(s):  
Emanuel Ringelblum

This chapter takes a look at Johann Anton Krieger. Krieger played a central role in the history of Jewish printing in Poland in the eighteenth century. This remarkably enterprising and versatile man owned a printing press in Nowy Dwór, in the province of Mazovia, and, for a time, another in the town of Korzec, in the province of Volynia. He also established a Jewish printing business close to Warsaw and engaged in extensive publishing activities. What is more, he influenced the policies of the Polish financial authorities, compelling them to take account of the needs of the Jewish printing industry inside Poland and to protect it from foreign competition while it was still weak.


Author(s):  
Jenni Dixon

This chapter examines the Magnificent Directory produced by James Bisset in 1800 in relation to industrial tourism in Birmingham. Directories were used throughout the eighteenth century to promote manufacturers, but Bisset’s Directory differed in its inclusion of poetry and expensive copperplate prints outlining Birmingham’s genuine manufactories but also an imagined town. This town was inhabited and viewed through the eyes of Classical gods both in the prints and the poetry. The chapter considers how Bisset’s Directory guided tourist experience by framing the town through a lens of wonder and thus highlighting and heightening the curiosity of visitors. It also assesses in what ways the poetic and visual content, as well as Bisset’s use of fine printing and skilled artisans, were employed to alter perceptions of Birmingham.


2021 ◽  
pp. 441-462
Author(s):  
Curtis G. Murphy

This chapter highlights the civil–military commission of Lublin voivodeship that adjudicated a contract dispute between the town magistracy and the Jewish community of Lublin over the quartering of soldiers for the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth's rapidly growing army. It analyzes the quarrels between Jews and their Christian neighbours that punctuated small-town life in pre-modern eastern Europe. It also points out how disputes serve as a reminder that the confrontations between Jews and Christians did not arise from ethno-religious hostility. The chapter mentions historians of Poland–Lithuania that often viewed the dynamics of Jewish–Christian interaction through dramatic details, such as the escalation of ritual murder trials in the eighteenth century. It describes contacts between urban Christians and Jews that revolved around concrete and prosaic concerns that were connected with the ambiguous powers and duties of both groups.


2019 ◽  
pp. 101-123
Author(s):  
S. Elizabeth Penry

By the eighteenth century, the town-based cofradía and cabildo offices had merged to form what scholars call the fiesta-cargo system, a series of linked posts that created affective ties to the town and legitimated authority within it. Andeans now defined themselves as comuneros, members of the común, the body of commoners that excluded caciques. To become a leader of the común, one served the saints by holding cofradía office. Comuneros had made cofradías and saints Andean: service to the saints rotated among the town’s ayllus and saints’ celebrations included llama sacrifice, pouring libations, and shamanistic practices. During their time as officeholders, comuneros were exempt from tribute and mita, making them a de facto nobility. Caciques saw these officeholders as threats to cacical rule and worked to undercut them. That fear coincided with Spanish policies that also sought to reduce cofradía officers so as to increase tribute payments and mita labor.


2019 ◽  
pp. 1-24
Author(s):  
S. Elizabeth Penry

In the sixteenth century, Spaniards forcibly resettled Andeans into planned towns called reducciones. Andeans adapted the political and religious institutions of the new towns, the cabildo (town council) and the cofradías (confraternities), and made them their own, organizing them by the Andean social form, the ayllu. Over time, political legitimacy and authority within towns was transferred from traditional native hereditary lords, the caciques, to the common people of the town, who called themselves the común. Although a Spanish word, común took on Andean meaning as it was the word used to translate terms for collective land and the collective people of a town. It became a recognized shorthand for a political philosophy empowering common people. In the late eighteenth-century era of Atlantic Revolutions, the común rose up against its caciques, in an Enlightenment-from-below moment of popular sovereignty.


Sign in / Sign up

Export Citation Format

Share Document