Anglican Nuns Come to Liverpool

2021 ◽  
Vol 170 (1) ◽  
pp. 115-130
Author(s):  
Janet Hollinshead ◽  
Pat Starkey

Incorporated into Liverpool as part of the town’s southward expansion during the second half of the nineteenth century, the corner of Upper Parliament Street and Princes Road in Toxteth boasts three places of worship built to cater to the religious needs of those expected to populate the area.1 The sesquicentenary of one of these, St Margaret’s Church, provided an opportunity to examine documents relating to an associated church school and to the rediscovery of an almost-forgotten Church of England sisterhood which managed a local orphanage. Further enquiries uncovered the activities of other sisters working elsewhere in the town.2 This article will trace the arrival and activity of these communities between 1864 and 1900, ask why local historians have shown little interest in them and consider ways in which their foundation was a function of the development of Anglo-Catholicism in the city and intersected with the growth of opportunities for women.

1978 ◽  
Vol 9 ◽  
pp. 55-59 ◽  
Author(s):  
Michael Brett

In the Seventh Annual Report of the Society I published an account of the journey of the shaykh Al-Tijānī to Tripoli at the beginning of the fourteenth century A. D./eighth century A. H., with particular reference to the Arab tribes and chiefs whom he encountered.What follows is a translation of the passages from the Riḥla in which he describes the city of Tripoli as he saw it during the eighteen months of his residence. Page references are to the 1958 Tunis edition of the work, followed by references to the nineteenth century French translation by Alphonse Rousseau. The latter is incomplete, and not always accurate.221, trans. 1853, 135Our entry into (Tripoli) took place on Saturday, 19th Jumāḍā II (707).237, trans. 1853, 135–6As we approached Tripoli and came upon it, its whiteness almost blinded the eye with the rays of the sun, so that I knew the truth of their name for it, the White City. All the people came out, showing their delight and raising their voices in acclaim. The governor of the city vacated the place of his residence, the citadel of the town, so that we might occupy it. I saw the traces of obvious splendour in the citadel (qaṣba), but ruin had gained sway. The governors had sold most of it, so that the houses which surrounded it were built from its stones. There are two wide courts, and outside is the mosque (masjid), formerly known as the Mosque of the Ten, since ten of the shaykhs of the town used to gather in it to conduct the affairs of the city before the Almohads took possession. When they did so, the custom ceased, and the name was abandoned.


2019 ◽  
pp. 217-236
Author(s):  
Celeste-Marie Bernier ◽  
Alan Rice ◽  
Lubaina Himid ◽  
Hannah Durkin

Swallow Hard: The Lancaster Dinner Service was part of the Abolished? exhibition in Lancaster. It uses overpainted eighteenth and early nineteenth century plates, tureens, jugs and dishes to comment on the legacy of slavery in the port town. It displays caricatured white figures which interrogate Lancaster’s slave-produced wealth and noble black figures which memorialise a black presence that has been forgotten in histories of the town. Other images explore local flora and fauna and the slave ships, built in the city, sailing to Africa and then sold on so others can continue the trade. It speaks to the conspicuous consumption built on the exploitation of human traffic and the consequences for those who are exploited. Working against nostalgia for confected histories she shows the full human costs of imperial wealth. Her work cannot fully make amends for the traumatic past but expresses artistically forgotten and elided histories.


X ◽  
2020 ◽  
Author(s):  
Angela Squassina

From a fortress to a residential castle: a stratigraphic reading of the transformations in the Rocca of Novellara (RE, Italy)The paper reports the results of a stratigraphic reading on the northern façade of the Rocca di Novellara (Reggio Emilia, Italy), a castle which is now the town hall, right in the city centre. Though as a pole of the contemporary public life in Novellara, housing at present both a museum and a nineteenth century theatre, the Rocca recalls its military past through its name and by means of the still standing remains of the walls and corner towers. Besides a well-documented historical development, the stratigraphic investigation of the northern façade –the only part that still hasn’t been restored– allowed a direct observation of the material traces revealing the slow transformation of the Rocca from a fortification to a residential castle. This study gave the chance of understanding the different constructive phases of the castle, making a chronological sequence out of them but it was also meant to reflect about the changes of its character, as the building has been acquiring a complex identity through time, due both to high qualified architectural episodes and to as much meaningful though tiny changes. Thus, the permanence of the stratified marks can be regarded as one of the main goals of a preservation project.


1979 ◽  
Vol 16 ◽  
pp. 427-440 ◽  
Author(s):  
David M. Thompson

Studies of nineteenth-century urban religion have often been conducted with very little reference to the surrounding countryside. Even Obelkevich in his stimulating study of rural religion in Lincolnshire suggested that there, ‘In the Church of England, though the ideal and model of the village parish church continued to inspire town churchmen, towns and villages largely remained in separate compartments. Only through Methodism did the towns have much effect on village religious life. . . . The circuit, the key unit of Methodist organization, brought preachers and people from towns and villages into regular contact with each other and made it possible for the financial and human resources of the town chapels to contribute to the life of the outlying village chapels’. But the methodist exception is significant, not so much in a denominational sense (although the methodist form of organisation was in theory the best for this purpose) but because it is an example of a situation in which the money and men available in any one particular place were not sufficient to carry out what the church concerned wished to do there. It was therefore necessary to tap the resources of other places to help. In large towns such as Manchester, Leeds and Birmingham, and in some of the smaller industrial towns as well, the necessary resources often had to be found within the town or not at all; and to that extent the study of urban religion on its own is understandable. But in many parts of the country rural evangelism was felt to be as urgent a priority as urban evangelism. The church of England sought to overcome the consequences of rural neglect; and all nonconformists, not only methodists, attempted to involve town members in the life of country chapels. Thus in less exclusively industrial parts of the country than Lancashire, the West Riding of Yorkshire and the Black Country, a genuine conflict of priorities between town and countryside could arise.


Author(s):  
Lisa C. Robertson

This chapter explores the architectural and social origins of the Hampstead Garden Suburb. Initiated by Henrietta Barnett, Hampstead Garden Suburb was radical departure from nineteenth-century town planning in its emphasis on a variety of housing types, integrated green spaces, and various community and social services. Yet its design was not only a clear response to the social problems presented by the nineteenth-century city, but also a synthesis of several models of new domestic architecture that existed in the city itself including model dwellings, women’s residences, and settlement housing. This chapter engages with both visual and literary representations of the Hampstead Garden Suburb to establish its nineteenth-century legacy.


2003 ◽  
Vol 34 ◽  
pp. 57-81 ◽  
Author(s):  
Harald Binder

Many east central European towns and cities bear several names, reflecting the ethnic and religious diversity once characteristic of the region. The town chosen in 1772 by the Habsburgs as capital of their newly acquired province of Galicia serves as an example. In the second half of the nineteenth century Ruthenian national populists referred to the city as “Ľviv”; Russophiles designated the city “Ľvov.” For Poles and Polonized Jews the town was “Lwów,” and for Germans as well as German- and Yiddish-speaking Jews the city was “Lemberg.” The ethnic and linguistic reality was, in fact, much less clear than these divisions would suggest. For much of the period of Habsburg rule, language barriers remained permeable. The city's inhabitants were multilingual, often employing different languages depending on the type of communication in which they were engaged. By the


Author(s):  
Brian Fagan

Syria is a palimpsest of antiquity, a country scattered with evocative ruins from a tumultuous past. “This kingdom hath suffered many alterations,” wrote the Scottish traveler William Lithgow, who wandered through the country in 1612. The landscape teems with Crusader castles, Roman ruins, traces of Byzantium. Early travelers found a strange incongruity, with magnificent temples rising among “hovels,” and with what the nineteenth-century English artist William H. Bartlett called “the shapeless structures of the peasantry.” He added, “It is a strange irony to find baths and theatres in such a country, or triumphal avenues down which only a flock of ragged goats are driven out and back at dawn and sunset.” Bartlett visited Bostra, 9 miles (14 kilometers) south of Damascus, which was once a great desert caravan city and the capital of Roman Arabia before Palmyra came into prominence. After the decline of the Roman Empire, Bostra was the first Byzantine city to fall to Islam, and it became an important stop on the pilgrimage route to Mecca. Today, Bostra is most famous for its Roman amphitheater with its perfect acoustics and seating for 15,000 people. Bartlett observed the city from miles away: Bostra stood up, black and imposing, before us for miles before we arrived, a mass of columns and triumphal arches with the castle dominating the whole. I went up the square tower of the minaret and looked out over the town—columns and black square towers over every ruined church and mosque, and the big castle, and the countless masses of fallen stone. . . . Such a spectacle of past magnificence and present squalor it would be difficult to conceive. There were inscriptions everywhere, Latin, Greek, Cufic and Arabic, built into the walls of the Fellahin houses, topsy turvy, together with the perforated slabs that were once windows, and bits of columns and capitals of pillars. . . . At last he [the Mamur, Bartlett’s self-appointed guide] took me to the top of the castle and introduced me to the head of the soldiers, who produced chairs and coffee on his roof-top, and subsequently glasses of arack [commonly “arrack,” a strong alcoholic drink made of fermented palm sap, rive, or molasses] and water in his room below.


2017 ◽  
Vol 58 (3-4) ◽  
pp. 363-377
Author(s):  
Jana Laslavíková

The establishment and development of the Municipal Theater in Pressburg in the period 1886–1920 was closely linked with the cultural and social development of the city in the period following the Austrian-Hungarian Compromise in 1867. The theater was built by the rising stratum of Pressburg townsmen, based on a requirement of the Hungarian government. The theater was in the possession of the town that rented it to theater directors and their German and Hungarian companies. The theater had a primacy among provincial theaters in Hungary. This was mainly due to the vicinity of Vienna and the efforts to resemble the metropolis, notably by the local patriotism of Pressburg inhabitants who wanted their locality to be regarded as a leading Hungarian town. The opera performances and their reception in the newspapers demonstrate the history of culture of the town, mentalities and collective identifications of its citizens, and last but not least the history of culture of Central Europe.


2019 ◽  
Vol 46 (2) ◽  
pp. 270-288
Author(s):  
Tilo Amhoff

This article closely investigates the unique visual representations of the building plans of late nineteenth-century and early twentieth-century Berlin, and emphasizes the agency of the paper plan in the profession and discipline of Städtebau. Following positions in German media theory, the paper plan is understood and theorized as a medium of bureaucracy and the plan drawing as a set of cultural techniques. In doing so, the article traces the refinement of the instruments for regulating the building of the city—from the building plan, to the building zones plan, to the town development plan. It is argued that the paper plans themselves have agency in seeing the city and hence thinking about the city (through their methods of visual representation), and agency in the formation of graphic terms and concepts (derived from the making of building plans). The paper plans mediated visual and verbal knowledge of the city that would have been inconceivable without them.


2014 ◽  
Vol 43 (2) ◽  
pp. 245-259
Author(s):  
David Theodore Bottomley

Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to consider why Richard Dawes (1793-1867) academic, college business manager and Church of England priest developed a curriculum in a nineteenth century English village school with which he sought to modify differences in social class and achieved outstanding results in student engagement and educational attainment. Design/methodology/approach – The approach is documentary. It uses books and internet scans of original documents. It locates Dawes's work in the social movements of early nineteenth century Britain and associates Dawes's activities with those of Kay-Shuttleworth who was administrator of the British government's first move to provide education for poor children. Findings – Dawes emphasised tolerance and secular teaching within a school system devoted to instilling Church of England doctrine. He based classroom teaching on things familiar to children and integrated subject content. He used science to encourage parents of “that class immediately above that of labourers” to send their children to his school to overcome class differences. For his system to be widely adopted he needed science teachers trained in his practical teaching methods. Initial government support for science in elementary schools was eroded by Church of England opposition to state intervention in education. Originality/value – Dawes's pedagogic achievements are well known in the history of science education; his secular teaching in a church school and his valiant attempt to use science as an instrument of social change, perhaps less so.


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