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Reviews Birmingham is home to a large and vibrant community of postgraduate researchers. On this page you can find reviews of books and events by current students.
Reviews of
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Anna French
Reviews of recent conferences and events 'A New World' - exhibition at the British Museum. Reformation Studies Colloquium, Oxford, 5-7th April 2006 The 8th Higher Education Academy Conference, April 2006 The Tudor and Stuart History Seminar at the Institute of Historical Research, Senate House, London
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Reviews of events Exhibition, ‘A New World’, at the British Museum, London, until 17 June Report by Katie Wright There is less than a month before this gem of an exhibition returns to the archives and I thoroughly recommend a visit if you are in London. The exhibition focuses on the drawings of John White, a gentleman and artist, who accompanied five voyages to North America in the 1580s. On his travels he produced intricate depictions of some of the native tribes he met as well as the plant, animal and birdlife the voyagers encountered. White’s drawings are fascinating not only for their artistic detail and their rarity but also for their anthropological study of the native peoples, showing their clothing and other bodily adornment, their weaponry, their styles of cooking, their rituals, their religion and their villages. The watercolours displayed were at one time circulated at court and provided Elizabethan England with her first view of America. They were later turned into engraved prints by the Frankfurt publisher Theodor de Bry in 1590 and used to illustrate Thomas Harriot’s written account of the voyages to America which were distributed all over Europe. As well looking at White and his drawings, there are other interesting exhibits including contemporary maps, navigation equipment and souvenirs of the voyages, as well as detail of the pursuits of other navigational heroes of the age including Walter Raleigh, Francis Drake and Richard Grenville. *** Report by Katie Wright As Juliet Ingram’s paper showed, it is very difficult to get a clear sense of the experience of particularising in this period since the majority of the evidence we have of preaching comes from printed sermons and few court cases give detail of sermons and their delivery, even when accusations of particularising were involved. That being so, this paper brought up some interesting debates surrounding cases of particularising and gave depth to our understanding of what particularising was and meant in this period. Particularising was when a minister directed the commentary of his sermon at particular members of his congregation. This more-direct style used by some preachers in their sermons let to division and contention in communities. Particularising was one of the most common accusations against godly preachers and linked to other forms of ‘non-conformism.’ Although the practice was not widely encouraged, godly preachers argued that the sermon was a way in which they fulfilled part of their role in the parish as minister, and that their preaching against sin was not malicious but was a standard part of that role. Although preachers did not usually name parishioners directly in their address, the congregations in close-knit communities would have understood who was meant by pointed comments about particular sins. It is, however, unfortunate that we cannot reconstruct the gestures which may have accompanied public preaching, both by the clergy and members of the laity, and which may have been a way in which parishioners felt targeted by their ministers’ sermons. *** Report by Katie Wright This paper on perfumed gloves was given as part of the Society, Culture and Belief, 1500-1800 seminar series, which this term is on smell. Holly’s paper focussed on the glove ‘mania’ in London in the period c.1580-1640 which, according to legend, began after a gift of perfumed gloves were made to Queen Elizabeth I in the 1560s. Gloves carried significant symbolic power in this period, where they were used to depict status or aspiring status in portraits and given as favours at betrothals or at weddings. Perfumed gloves were a novelty and importantly, perfume helped disguise the smell of leather, which let to a growth in the market for leather gloves. There was a particular fashion for gloves ‘in the Spanish style,’ even during the Armada, which meant perfumed with ambergris. This ingredient itself had a very strong smell, useful for both disguising the smell of the leather, but also for its ability to retain smell for a long time. It was interesting to listen to a discussion of the different smells which were used in the early modern period to perfume gloves and other things, and the origins of the different scents, many of which were imported via new trade routes, including ambergris. It was also interesting to learn that recipes for perfuming gloves at home found their way into printed and manuscript household recipe books, both for cooking and medicine. Perfumed gloves were not only significant as goods of conspicuous consumption, part of a luxury trade, the market for which was expanding in this period, but also for the fact that they helped spark a trade war between apothecaries and grocers over to the assignment of who had the rights to trade in which spices. Ironically, when illegal trading was discovered, the confiscated or ‘faulty goods’ were burned in fiery public demonstrations, spreading the perfume further and wider. *** Report by Mary Partridge On 2 March 2007, the History Department at Royal Holloway hosted an AHRC-sponsored conference on Medieval and Renaissance Courts. The title of the conference ('the court is on earth an ymage infernall') suggests an emphasis on anti-Court discourse. Actually, the material presented was far more diverse. Both positive and negative elements of Court politics, economics and culture were discussed. There were five panels: Royalty and Remembrance, Courtiers, Gifts and Exchanges, Fashion and Spectacle. The speakers introduced us to some really intriguing topics. These included Tudor hair, Stuart firework displays and the exchange of food as gifts in sixteenth century Italian Courts. Most of the papers considered aspects of material culture and/or self-fashioning. They ranged chronologically from the fifteenth century to the end of the seventeenth century. The day concluded with a 'round table' discussion (it was suggested that the Arthurian connotations of this phrase made it especially appropriate for a Court conference). The papers were compared and contextualised. Several broad themes – such as friendship and goodwill, cultural production at court and commemoration – were identified. After the conference had formally ended, the discussion continued over drinks. This was an interesting and genuinely interdisciplinary symposium. The organisers should be congratulated. They are currently considering establishing a permanent research network to examine and evaluate issues concerning Medieval and Renaissance Courts. *** Report by Katie Wright James Bisgood, a musician of the Globe Theatre in London and Director of 'Tarleton's Jig' came to give a lecture on early musical instruments, c. 1500-1700. As well as demonstrating his expert knowledge in how to play an astounding range of instruments, including the bagpipes, the lute, the cittern and the hurdy-gurdy, he explained their origins, their craftsmanship and where and by whom they would have been played. It was this latter part of the lecture which was particularly interesting, being able to appreciate what a travelling minstrel might have looked like, and played, and what a performance in a tavern might have comprised, and sounded like. Whilst religious historians, such as John Craig, have started to look at the ‘soundscape’ of sixteenth century church worship, this performance hinted at the soundscape of the sixteenth century secular world. The climax of the session was a performance of a bawdy seventeenth century ballad from the Samuel Pepys’ collection, sung with musical accompaniment, a rare glimpse into the musical experiences which would have been common to the individuals living in the early modern period. One final point which may be of interest is that James drew attention to Claude A. Simpson’s 1966 publication, The British Broadside Ballad and Its Music, a volume which holds all the known music from ballads from this period. *** Reformation Studies Colloquium, Oxford, 5-7th April 2006 By Anna French, Sylvia Gill and Katie Wright The ‘Reformation Studies Colloquium’ meets biennially and on this occasion was co-organised by Judith Pollman (Leiden University) and Andrew Spicer (Oxford Brookes). The event was held in the beautiful surroundings of Somerville College, Oxford, which provided a scholarly and elegant, whilst largely informal, atmosphere. The intention of the conference is to provide a forum for new research from established scholars, alongside papers from postdoctoral and postgraduate students. The programme for this year’s Colloquium demonstrated clear evidence of the international as well as interdisciplinary scope of Reformation studies, incorporating not only History and Theology but also Art History and Music. Aspects of the Reformation and Counter-Reformation experienced in Britain, Europe, East and West, and even China were discussed in forty-nine papers. Keynote speakers and papers were Margo Todd, ‘Enlisting the Community: The Laity in Scotland's Urban Reformations’, Ronnie Hsia, ‘Dreams and Conversions in the Catholic Mission in China in the 16th-17th Centuries’ and Lyndal Roper, ‘Luther and Biography.’ The conference also boasted three speakers from CREMS, Elaine Fulton, ‘Hidden Beginnings: Catholic Reform in the late Sixteenth Century Vienna,’ Graeme Murdock, ‘The Dancers of Nimes: Moral Discipline, Gender and Reformed Religion in Late Sixteenth-Century France’ and Alec Ryrie, ‘The Mapmaker’s Revenge: Re-Conversions and Alternative Trajections in the British Reformations.’ The broad range of topics drawn together under the all-encompassing theme ‘Reformation Studies’ revealed the colourful and exciting nature of current Reformation historiography, or perhaps more fittingly, historiographies. The next Reformation Studies Colloquium will be held at York in the Spring of 2008. Below are some individual perspectives from our CREMS postgraduates who attended: 'The range of papers was characteristically broad and it was difficult to decide which sessions to listen to. It was, however, unfortunate that some speakers were unable to attend. As a historian of religious culture I particularly valued the cultural slant of many of the papers: Graeme Murdock speaking on discipline and dancers in Nimes; Angela McShane-Jones comparing sacramental drinking with secular, health drinking; Margo Todd on the laity in the Scottish urban Reformation; Richard William rejecting the iconophobic interpretation of visual culture in the English Reformation; Katharina Reinholdt on Anabaptist marriage customs; and John Craig talking about the culture of prayer, to name a few. Furthermore, I thought the colloquium benefited from historians probing wider contexts for the study of Reformation history, such as gesture, material culture, visual art, and space, aspects which it would appear are becoming increasingly topical'. -Katie Wright 'The papers were drawn from a wide variety of geographical and cultural perspectives, with a clear interdisciplinary scope. As someone especially interested in religious and cultural histories, I found the various interpretations of early modern religiosity and spiritual experience most intriguing. From an artistic stance, Maria Craciun’s paper, concerning church space and religious iconography in early modern Transylvania, drew listeners’ attention to the notion of ‘space’ and use of religious objects as part of religious experience and practical divinity. Looking at the spiritual and sensual elements of early modern religious and cultural beliefs, Maria Tausiet’s paper took a somewhat unique stance, and considered the cultural significance of tears in Spain’s ‘Counter Reformation’; while Ronnie Hsia spoke of the significance of dreams within early modern China. Finally, for those interested in the darker side of early modern religiosity, Lyndal Roper provided an insight into German demonologies and devil beliefs'. -Anna French 'Forty-nine papers in sixteen, mostly parallel, sessions meant making decisions difficult and inevitably some desirable papers had to be missed. However, I enjoyed a wide variety of presentations selected for both my own research interests and the wider ramifications of the Reformation. Alec Ryrie’s ‘The Mapmaker’s Revenge: Re-conversions and Alternative Trajectories in the British Reformations,’ Margo Todd’s paper on the community of Perth and their application of experience to the new demands of the Reformation and Andrew Foster’s discussion of diocesan ‘basket cases’ in his ‘Jurisdictional Conundrums Concerning Archdeaconries and Peculiars’ all highlighted the personal and bureaucratic responses to change which the Reformation incurred and/or demanded, and which I’m particularly interested in. In addition to these, I particularly enjoyed John Craig’s paper on the performance of prayer and the three papers which made up the Catholic and Religious Practice session which referred to the Council of Trent, (Patrick Preston), Catholic Reform in late 16th century Vienna, (Elaine Fulton) and Liz Tingle on the sub-parochial clergy in Brittany. This diversity of papers and perspectives provided much for further consideration and, (in case we were in any doubt about the multifarious aspects of this period gathered under the umbrella term, ‘The Reformation’), Alec Ryrie took care to remind us with the sub-sub-title of his paper, ‘yes, but it’s more complicated than that’!' -Sylvia Gill *** Review of the 8th Higher Education Academy Conference, April 2006 The 8th annual HEA conference was held at Lady Margaret Hall in Oxford, 11-13 April 2006. The first day of the conference was free for postgraduate students. A substantially reduced fee of £50 (including meals and accommodation) was payable by those who wanted to stay for the full three days. On the first day, the interests of postgraduates were specifically addressed in discussion panels and focus groups. Career guidance was provided, and a postgraduate networking session was chaired by Elaine Fulton. A follow-up meeting was subsequently arranged for students who were keen to get involved with HEA. It will take place on 15 June 2006 at Birmingham. The second and third days of the conference were primarily concerned with teaching strategies, curriculum design, assessment methods and the interpretation of feedback. Some of these issues may seem to lie a little beyond the scope of the average doctoral student (how many of us get to design a syllabus?)! It was nonetheless extremely enlightening for someone with direct experience of only two universities to find out how history is taught at other institutions – both in the UK and abroad. Any postgraduate who enjoys teaching, and wishes to develop this side of their academic CV, should seriously consider attending another HEA event. *** Report on the first annual colloquium at Canterbury Christ Church University, 25th March 2006, ‘Reading and Writing Practices in Provincial Society 1300-1700.’ By Denise Thomas This colloquium was called in response to issues raised by Peter Clark concerning reading and writing practices in his 1976 survey of three Early Modern Kentish towns. Specific issues concerned the value of sources such as probate inventories, the under representation of women in the available evidence, and the paucity of evidence for questions, such as, to what extent inventorised books and manuscripts were read, and how they were read and used. The key focus was on how far research, particularly for the provinces, has developed since Peter Clark wrote his article. For the programme, click here. In her introduction, Claire Bertram paid tribute to scholars who have recently made such influential contributions to this burgeoning field, suggesting that not only should we be looking at all the different strands of visual, oral and textual communication together with the interrelation and overlap between them, but also at the production and circulation of textual material in the provinces. She applauded the broadening of the forum to include an increasing variety of sources such as the manuscript verses, town records and needlework to be explored at this colloquium. For her own example of local practice she talked about a network of gentlemen in Elizabethan Kent, who circulated their agricultural writings. While giving plenty of practical advice on husbandry, medicine and works of charity, these works simultaneously promoted their Protestant ethos for a godly husbandry in a godly society. Helen Wicker spoke on the aspect of her current research that concerns popular fifteenth century moral lyrics and the methodologies she employs in studying them. Her examples reflected the interests and social and moral values of the common man, and presumably woman, in their noting and adapting of moral verses, rhymes and refrains as found in various settings such as commonplace books, although compiler identity is lacking, This sort of material, once treated as ephemeral, is now seen as significant in the ‘emergence of the common voice’, particularly in the context of the growth of vernacular writing and the anxiety of the Church over the move from Latin, not least among Lollards, in the late medieval period. A community book, the huge Black Book of Sandwich, provided the focus of Sheila Sweetingburgh’s paper. She drew a correlation between the instigation in 1431 of this written record and the community’s perception of instability during a time of changing political, economic and social patterns. The tone of the record is regulatory in all its field of civic concerns, whether controlling trade practices or moral issues. It reflects a growing sense of civic officiousness but also increasing civic responsibility. Interestingly too, with the ceremonial attached to the book comes a glimpse of the commonalty, summoned by horn to hear and witness the proclamations that were then recorded in written form in this book. The Perambulation of Kent (1576) by the lawyer and antiquarian William Lambard was the inspiration for Andrew Butcher’s investigation of how history was read and understood in this period. Lambard’s book was extremely popular in its time and continues to be read today but it is an ambiguous and many-faceted work. Lambard wrote of himself as a zenographer or guide to the foreign places of the past, but he is at once suspicious of the evidence and talks of its inconstancy. This evidence included what he found in his own extensive collection of source material and what he borrowed from others, but also the wisdom of the common folk he himself questioned. Sometimes he used what they said for he was sceptically aware that both they and he ‘lied’. History for him was not a progression but a mixed journey in which he leads his readers part way but regularly abandons them, coming to no fixed conclusions. Dr. Butcher feels further research into this book will yield more about the sophistication of its author and perhaps about the sophistication of his readership. Two different experiences for women were explored by Liz Oakley Brown and Jackie Eales. Liz was interested in translations of all sorts that are themselves a form of reading practice. She considered the Early Modern male translations of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, tales well known for their varying interpretations and audience reception as either moral or salacious. Even the story of Arachne, herself acting as translator in her weaving, offered different interpretations of her fate as punitive and deserved, thus maintaining the status quo, or as triumphant and transcendental. Referring to three cushion tapestries of the tales of Phaeton and others made by Bess of Hardwicke, Liz explored the reflection of women’s experience of Ovid’s tales in Arachne’s medium of needlework. This was one of the few areas of activity that women could be seen to be following social norms but in fact could express their own unauthorised views. Jackie looked at a group of women who seemed satisfied with a male dominated situation in the clerical families created by the Reformation. These families tended to form dynasties, or at least, networks, with clergymen’s daughters becoming clerical wives, mothers and grandmothers themselves. Their lives of piety, as mediated in their written lives and funeral sermons by men, were upheld as models of female virtue. They certainly had a proportionately higher literacy rate and level of education than women from other backgrounds, and were teachers of their own children, both sons and daughters, and of the children of neighbours. In contrast to the female sectaries who challenged the status quo, clergymen’s daughters appear to have been quiescent, and in fact bolstered the conventional role of women. This particular line of enquiry points directly to a correlation between the Reformation and the raising of literacy for women. Denise Thomas presented her preliminary findings on the extant library of Thomas Hall, pastor and schoolmaster of Kings Norton, in particular his acquisition and diversity of uses of his books with some detail on his interaction with the texts themselves. The final paper, from Sheila was based on another library, that of Henry Oxinden. She asked if Peter Clark’s ideas of growing literacy and an expanding textual culture in this period remained valid. Taking the Oxinden family over four generations and looking material such as the library borrowing list for 1647-1658, the family correspondence, their book ownership, and their educational and social history, she concluded that certainly in her sample this was the case. An interesting point she made for interpretation of probate inventories was that Henry Oxinden’s considerable library was listed simply as ‘all the books in his study’. In summary it was regretted that there is still a divide between study of the late medieval manuscript culture and that of the sixteenth century, although there has been far more interest in the seventeenth century. It was felt that some attention had been paid to the contribution of the lower orders during the day but this remained a field to be further explored. Perhaps overall, contributors were aware of a frustrating lack of evidence for so many questions of orality and literacy. It was posited that perhaps too much emphasis had been placed on wills and probate inventories. Other source material such as letters, and even sermon notes and other ‘ephemeral’ material, and also other lines of enquiry into areas such as numeracy and alternative modes of communication might be fruitful. Certainly the day’s presentations had opened up interesting perspectives and there was much email exchange with forward looks to next year’s meeting. *** By Mary Partridge, March 2006 The IHR Tudor and Stuart seminar takes place at 5.15 on alternate Mondays during term time. Participants tend to congregate half an hour or so beforehand in the Institute common room, for tea and conversation. The convenors are keen to encourage postgraduate involvement, and are always very welcoming to students. The papers presented are invariably interesting, and the seminar attracts many eminent historians. Recent speakers have included Patrick Collinson, Diarmaid MacCulloch, Peter Lake, Pauline Croft, Jenny Wormald and Michael Questier. Several regular student attendants have also been invited to share their research with the forum; last December, Birmingham’s Neil Younger gave an excellent paper on the Elizabethan lord lieutenancies. After the presentation, questions and comments, everyone is encouraged to go out for dinner with the speaker. These evenings are always lively and highly enjoyable! The seminar offers early modern doctoral scholars the opportunity to make friends, to learn about cutting edge research and to discuss their work with leading experts in their field. I would strongly encourage CREMS postgraduates to attend. Further details can be found at http://www.history.ac.uk/ihrseminars/index.php. *** Phil Withington, The Politics of Commonwealth: Citizens and Freeman in Early Modern England (Cambridge: University Press, 2005). By Jonathan Milton. The notion that politics after the Reformation happened at local level as well as on the national and international stages has become more prominent among early modern historians. John Morrill, among others, has made the case for ‘county community’ politics, and this excellent book by Phil Withington makes the case for the urban community. The surge in the number of incorporated towns that picked up, in Peter Slack’s words, ‘the vacuum left by the dissolution’, gave the townsmen a degree of importance and responsibility that hitherto had belonged to the gentry. This is turn gave burgesses and guild members a sense of freedom and independence that they were never afterwards to lose. Phil Withington comprehensively charts the rise of the corporate system and assesses its effect on the activities and ideologies of the townsmen that ‘drove and legitimated its formation’. This corporate system, he asserts, was not the remnants of a dying society but a vehicle for early modern change. The morality to serve and defend the public good that ‘saturated the politics of the period’ was as important as commercialism and mere possession of power by the oligarchic elite for the smooth running of urban communities. Chapters on the under-reported role of women in a patriarchal commonwealth, the drive for reform that was prompted by Calvinism and the positive effects that freedom had on the seventeenth century urban economy make this an excellent read. The point that lingers above all others from this book is the observation that in the 130 years following the Reformation, townsmen had moved from deference to the gentry and aristocracy to the questioning and disapproval of the motives of their ‘social superiors’, a category that included the monarch and the heir to the throne. Phil Withington lays the foundations for this change firmly at the door of the corporate system, and in this book he comprehensively details its progress.
Steven May, The Elizabethan Courtier Poets: The Poems and Their Context (Columbia and London: University of Missouri Press, 1991). By Mary Partridge. Steven May provides a comprehensive survey of The Elizabethan Courtier Poets: The Poems and Their Context. His study is deliberately and firmly located within the chronological parameters of Elizabeth's reign. Many analyses of Elizabethan literature stray over the watershed of 1603; after all, it seems somewhat arbitrary to divide the canons of Shakespeare, Jonson, Marston and Chapman into two discrete sectors (Before James and After James). This division might seem artificial when imposed upon the literary output of 'professional' authors, who wrote for the reading and play-going public. However, May argues that the interests and aspirations of courtier-poets were transformed by the regime change of 1603. He notes that the personality of an early modern monarch tended to define the cultural climate of his or her court. Hence, 'with the death of the queen, Elizabethan court life [and creative endeavour] came abruptly to an end' (p. 3). If May is precise about the chronological scope of his survey, he is equally specific in his definition of a courtier-poet. He highlights a range of criteria that can be used to identify a true courtier (as opposed to 'hangers-on or mere servants of the court' [p. 1]). According to these guidelines, he calculates that there were thirty-two courtier poets. His list features Ascham, Bacon, Cecil and Sidney. Spenser, Lyly and Gascoigne are explicitly excluded (pp. 4-5). Such omissions might seem controversial, and some readers would no doubt wish to contest them. It is worth noting, however, that few historians have been brave enough to tackle the nebulous question of who qualified for courtier status so directly. The term 'courtier' has been used to describe a phenomenally wide range of individuals. This book should be applauded for seeking to systematize its application. Having identified his courtier poets, May takes the reader on a succinct chronological tour of their work. He begins by reviewing the pre-Sidney era. He subsequently assesses the cultural impact of Sidney, Greville and Dyer. He discusses the 'utilitarian poetics' of Gorges, Ralegh and Essex, before considering the 'satire and narrative verse' popularized by Sir John Harrington. He concludes with an appraisal of devotional poetry. The second section of his book comprises an extensive collection of courtier verse. May does not attempt to reproduce every poem attributed to his thirty-two authors. His objective is rather to 'provide a representative anthology' (p. 234). The work of famous poets (such as Sir Walter Ralegh) is represented alongside that of more obscure authors (such as Sir Thomas Heneage). Several of the poems included have never been printed before. May's anthology is an invaluable resource for the student of Elizabethan court culture. His contextualisation of the poems is clear and concise. Analysis of literary trends is interspersed with useful biographical detail. The book fulfils its self-stated purpose: 'to identify the queen's courtier poets and then to collect, edit and assess their work within the context of the court which produced it' (p.3).
E. D. Tappe, (ed.), Documents Concerning Rumanian History (1427 – 1601): collected from British archives, Studies in European History II [2], Introduction by Constantin Marinesco, (The Hague: Mouton & Co., 1964). By Daniel Bamford This collection of 218 document excerpts are drawn from the Public Records Office (now the National Archive), the British Museum and private archives catalogued by the Historical Manuscripts Commission. Despite hunting down even the briefest mention of Moldavia and Wallachia (Tara Româneasca), Tappe explains that ‘documents which relate to Transylvania but have no specific Rumanian [sic] connection are not included’ (Preface, p.3). This omission of purely Transylvanian references distorts the portrayal of Moldavian and Wallachian affairs since the fates of all three principalities were often very closely interconnected. This interrelationship holds true no matter what view is taken over rival Hungarian and Romanian historical claims to sovereignty over Transylvania. Yet it could also be argued that only the even larger context of Habsburg, Ottoman and Polish-Lithuanian affairs can make sense of these documents, but this is the kind of problem that is typical of anachronistic ‘national’ histories in general rather than a shortcoming peculiar to this present volume. All the same, Tappe’s approach stands in contrast to Andrei Veress and Andrei Otetea, whose document collections explicitly aimed to cover all three principalities. Tappe was scrupulous about reproducing the actual texts with original spellings, rather than the paraphrases and modernisations often to be found in the PRO Calendar of State Papers, but some of the excerpts are so brief as to be taken out of their proper context, so this volume is still best treated as a specialist companion to the State Papers Foreign, which provides the fuller context. Tappe succeeded in finding a letter from Queen Elizabeth I to the Chancellor of Moldavia, which had previously been overlooked by I. I. Podea, but the Calendar State Papers Foreign includes at least a couple of documents relating to Moldavia that even Tappe missed. Tappe’s volume was originally conceived as a British supplement to the Documente privitore la Istoria Romanilor series begun by Eudoxiu Hurmuzaki and continued by Nicolae Iorga. This single volume spans the period from the earliest mention of Wallachia (Valachie) in English archives in 1427 until the last report mentioning Prince Michael the Brave of Wallachia in 1601. In this respect it could also be considered a British supplement to Carl Göllner’s Michael der Tapfere im Lichte des Abendlandes. Apparently, at least one further volume was planned, but sadly never published. Tappe’s document collection was well received by J. Michael Kitch, writing in the Slavonic and East European Review, and has since proved a useful point of reference for Paul Cernovodeanu’s studies of Anglo-Romanian relations, Jan Paul Niederkorn’s study of the ‘Long Turkish War’ (circa 1593 – 1606) and Maria Craciun’s study of the Reformation in Moldavia… as well as a mostly forgettable dissertation on the reign of Michael the Brave from the English perspective submitted to the University of St. Andrews in 2004.
Colin Imber, The Ottoman Empire, 1300–1650: the Structure of Power, (Basingstoke and New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2002). By Daniel Bamford ‘To write a general history of the Ottoman Empire is a foolhardy undertaking and one that needs justification’ (p. xiii). Such are the inauspicious words with which Colin Imber, Senior Lecturer in Turkish at the University of Manchester, begins his own general history of the Ottoman Empire. Dr. Imber bemoans what he considers to be the patchy and variable quality of specialist research on the Ottoman Empire and considers this to be an inadequate basis on which to write a general history. Furthermore, Imber is in some doubt as to whether there are even any meaningful Ottoman historiographical discussions taking place: ‘Historians of the Ottoman Empire quickly find that not only have the major questions not been answered, but that more often than not they have never been asked.’ Imber’s justifications for now choosing to embark on this otherwise ‘foolhardy undertaking’ are to provide an introduction to the field for the non-specialist and a context in which to read more specialist studies. He also hopes that it might prove useful to his fellow Ottomanists ‘in giving the straightforward chronology of events which has hitherto been lacking – however unfashionable chronological narrative might be’ (p. xiii – xiv). The topical chapters cover ‘The Dynasty,’ ‘Recruitment,’ ‘The Palace,’ ‘The Provinces,’ ‘The Law,’ ‘The Army’ and ‘The Fleet.’ This structure arises from Imber’s desire to challenge ‘a tendency among Ottoman historians no longer to refer to the Ottoman ‘Empire,’ but rather to the Ottoman ‘State,’ a tendency which is apparently derived from a ‘nonsense’ Turkish nationalist theory about Turks having a ‘genius’ for ‘state-creation.’ Imber also criticises the continued tendency amongst Europeans to talk of the ‘Turkish Empire’ and ‘Turks,’ rather than ‘Ottomans;’ since the empire was ‘heterogeneous in religion, language and social structure’ (p.1). His own approach is, therefore, to ‘describe those institutions through which the Ottoman Sultan projected his power,’ (p.xiv) pursuing the argument that the Ottoman Empire ‘was a dynastic Empire in which the only loyalty demanded of all its multifarious inhabitants was allegiance to the sultan’ (p.3). Imber returns to this central argument in the final brief chapter, although the title ‘Some Conclusions’ warns us not to expect any single grand all-encompassing ‘Conclusion’ regarding such a ‘heterogeneous’ entity in need of so much more scholarly attention. Imber ultimately credits the continuity in the ‘mundane functions of government’ provided by the scribal service and the courts with having enabled the Ottoman Empire to weather the storms of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. On the other hand, he claims that the loss of military supremacy that would become more evident in the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was already ‘clear’ in the ‘Austrian’ (or rather Hungarian) war of 1593 – 1606 (p.124.f). Thus, despite having denied the existence of any meaningful historiographical debates in Ottoman studies, Dr. Imber reasserts the central importance of the personal authority of the Ottoman Sultans and also advances the argument that the Ottomans failed to keep abreast of advances in the much debated ‘military revolution.’ As regards military developments, Imber acknowledges a difference of opinion with Rhoads Murphey’s ‘well-documented work,’ Ottoman Warfare, 1500 – 1700, which ‘largely argues against the idea of the Ottomans failing to adapt to a ‘military revolution’’ (p.346). One aspect of the ‘Chronology’ which sits ill at ease with the topical chapter on ‘The Dynasty’ is that Imber follows the common, but very misleading, practise of automatically referring to Constantinople by the colloquial name Istanbul after the Ottoman conquest of 1453 (p.29 cf. p.37). Yet when we come to his discussion of ‘The Dynasty’ we learn that Ottoman claims to fulfil Islamic prophesy in becoming the inheritors of the Roman Empire became an important part of anti-Habsburg propaganda in the sixteenth century (p.117, 125). Why then does Imber follow many others in giving the false impression, without any comment or explanation, that the Ottomans undermined these imperial claims by apparently re-naming the city? Even the Encyclopaedia of Islam (Leiden: Brill, 1960 - ) article on ‘Istanbul’ concedes that Constantinople (Ku(n)stantiniyya) remained the official name of the city throughout Ottoman times. It seems a shame to undermine the few valiant attempts to clear up this common misconception; notably those made by I. Metin Kunt in Suleyman the Magnificent & His Age (London, 1995) and Cemal Kafadar in the Handbook of European History 1400-1600, (Leiden: Brill, 1994 – 5), edited by Thomas A. Brady, et al. Quibbles aside, Imber is largely successful in his stated aims of providing a general introduction and a context in which more specialist works can be read, since he provides plentiful references to all the latest scholarship. His target audience of non-specialist English language readers is reflected in the fact that the bibliography is ‘not exhaustive and includes only works in English, French and German.’ Imber does, however, recommend, Klaus Kreiser’s Der osmanische Staat, 1300-1922, (München, 2001) as a further ‘bibliographical guide’ (p.362). The one serious deficiency in Imber’s general history is a chapter on economic matters. Imber apologises for this with the self-depreciating, but rather unconvincing, claim that he has decided to ‘leave this important topic to someone who, unlike me, understands figures’ (page. xiv). Imber’s final stated aim in his ‘Introduction’ is to ‘keep the reader in touch with the primary sources’ (p. xiv). Imber’s success in this last regard is probably one of the main reasons why this general history is so engaging and rich with historical detail, while at the same rarely having the feeling of getting bogged down in minutuae. One particularly gratifying perk is not simply that Imber provides plentiful translated quotes from many sources otherwise avaliable only in Ottoman Turkish, but that he also provides light relief by translating the nick names of the various viziers. This also serves to humanise a bewildering procession of otherwise largely faceless courtiers. Thus, we are introduced to Koja (‘the Elder’) Sinan Pasha (p.61), Biyikli (‘the Mustachioed’) Mehmed Pasha (p.45) and Yemishci (‘the Fruiterer’) Hasan Pasha (p.70). This is in marked contrast to the wilful obscurity of some Ottomanists, who insist on referring to Suleyman the Magnificent, one of the few Ottoman Sultans the general reader is likely to have heard of, as Süleymân Kanune, or, even worse, as ‘Suleyman II’ rather than the generally accepted Suleyman I. On the other hand, it is unfortunate that Imber does not provide exact references for many of these translated quotes, for example his frequent references to Ibrahim Pechevi (Peçewi) regarding war on the Hungarian front in 1593 – 1606. A helpful glossary of Ottoman terminology is included, although it is a shame that Palgrave Macmillan could not have assisted Dr. Imber in obtaining better quality maps than the apparently free-hand sketches ‘adapted from’ works by Claude Cahen, Palmira Brummet, Rhoads Murphey and Robert Manran. The splendid full-colour cover artwork reproduces a detail from an Ottoman miniaturist painting. The only real concern is whether the spine of the stout paperback edition will withstand repeated readings and constant referencing, which this fecund volume surely deserves.
Philip C. Almond, Demonic Possession and Exorcism in Early Modern England, Contemporary Texts and their Cultural Contexts (Cambridge University Press, 2004) 405 pp, £55.00 (hb) By Anna French In the opening preface to his Demonic Possession and Exorcism in Early Modern England, Philip Almond argues that the subject of demonic possession remains largely unexplored within historical research. Through this statement he is openly echoing the words of Daniel Walker’s Unclean Spirits (1981), a work which greatly influences Almond’s text. It is true that whilst much research has been carried out on beliefs in early modern witchcraft, the subjects of possession and exorcism have failed to attract quite the same level of analysis. This is surprising, considering the fact that cases of demonic possession fit naturally into the wide spectrum of early modern spiritual beliefs, including those involving prophesies, visions and dreams, alongside witchcraft accusations. Yet, the work does not attempt to fill the analytical void in this field of historiography, but rather provides an anthology to the subject. Almond chooses nine cases from the late sixteenth through to the mid-seventeenth centuries. These include the well known cases of the Throckmorton children and Mary Glover, as well as the cases related to sixteenth century exorcist John Darrell – Thomas Darling, the Lancashire Seven and the young man who engineered Darrell’s eventual downfall, William Sommers. However, the book wastes the opportunity to some draw vital links between these related cases. Indeed, in contrast to his opening statement, Almond perhaps underestimates (or rather does not acknowledge) some of the scholarly work that has been undertaken in recent years, including Stuart Clark’s Thinking With Demons and Lyndal Roper’s Oedipus and the Devil. Furthermore, more recent contributions now include Sarah Ferber’s Demonic Possession and Exorcism in Early Modern France (2004) and Marian Gibson’s Possession, Puritanism and Print (2006). Unlike these contributions, Almond’s Demonic Possession in Early Modern England does not provide an in-depth literary or historical analysis of the cases he cites. This is a little surprising. The cases are listed in chronological order, taking the reader from 1597 to 1647, yet very little attempt is made to provide links between these cases or to comment upon their chronology. It would have been interesting, for example, to draw out some of the peculiarities of the texts, differentiating between those which involve explicit instances of demonic intrusion and subsequent exorcism, and those involving demonic torment, rather than direct possession. Also, some definition of the terms used within the text would have been interesting. For example, how far were cases of demonic possession related to Puritan culture? Furthermore, were they part of mainstream or fringe culture? However, to compare Almond’s book to the more analytical contributions of historians such as Ferber and Gibson, essentially misses the key point. In this work Almond aims to provide an accessible introduction to students of early modern religious and spiritual life, to bring “readers closer to the events it describes” and to “enable the reader to enter the alien world of the demonically possessed”. Almond does succeed in this aim. He presents these English cases in a most accessible manner, providing a brief and highly informative context for each story. The modernisation of the transcripts means that a serious researcher would need to refer to the original texts when using this work, yet this makes them invaluable to students less familiar with this period. By doing this, perhaps Almond will, as he himself hopes, attract a new generation of scholars to this most fascinating aspect of early modern religious culture.
Matthew Reynolds, Godly Reformers and their Opponents in Early Modern England: Religion in Norwich, c.1560-1643 (Woodbridge: the Boydell Press, 2005). By Katie Wright Building on two previous monographs on Norwich, one by John Evans, Seventeenth Century Norwich (1979) and the other by Muriel McClendon, The Quiet Reformation: Magistrates and the Emergence of Protestantism in Tudor Norwich (1999) and using previously untapped archival material for the city, Reynolds shows that it is inadequate to view Norwich as a puritan citadel as it has previously been depicted. Instead, Reynolds discusses in detail the divisions between the godly and conformists in the city, and the rise of groups opposed to the godly, particularly in the 1620s and 1630s, whose anti-Puritanism he argues can be seen as something approaching civic Laudianism. In the first part of the book, Reynolds discusses the ‘making of a Protestant city c.1560-1619,’ a period in which Norwich became ‘a hotbed of Puritanism and radical dissent.’ Chronological in structure, the second part looks at the changes to the city’s religion under Samuel Harsnett’s episcopate in the 1620s. In part three, Reynolds examines the impact of Laudianism in the 1630s and the increasing polarisation between the godly and conformists in the city. In the final part he takes the discussion towards the Civil War and the ‘Puritan Revolution.’ This study of early modern England’s second city is well-grounded in the historical debates of Puritanism and the rise of Laudianism and provides clear discussion of how it builds on earlier work on the city of Norwich. By using prosopography to reconstruct religious affiliations within the town, particularly amongst the laity, Reynolds adds depth to his study and provides interesting discussion of lay support for Laudian changes to the church. It is difficult to get the feel of Norwich as a city due to its sheer size in this period with its 34 parishes by 1603, and the fact that this book focuses on the religious history of the city, missing out its socio-economic history. That being said, the book gives a very thorough review of the city’s spiritual past and is both interesting and useful for those seeking information on the impact of Laudianism, the relationship between magistracy and ministry in this period, religious faction in towns amongst urban elites, Norwich itself, and urban history, particularly urban religious history, in general.
Alexandra Walsham, Charitable Hatred: Tolerance and Intolerance in England, 1500-1700 (Manchester University Press: Manchester, 2006) By Katie Wright ‘Was confessional hostility, prejudice and antagonism in fact the dominant characteristic of the multiple, mundane interactions that made up every day life? or were forbearance and cordiality the real keynotes of the conduct of the orthodox towards their heterodox neighbours?’ This is just one of the questions asked by Alexandra Walsham in her thought-provoking study of religious minorities in England, 1500-1700 and how they were treated both by the Government and by the communities in which they lived. Building on other studies of particular religious minorities, including the Lollards, the Family of Love, Catholics, the Brownists, the later Civil War sects, the stranger churches, as well as Muslims and Jews, and studies on both the political and ecclesiastical situation in England in this period, and ‘toleration’ more generally, this study produces a very stimulating discussion which pieces together a vast array of different experiences of the religious ‘other,’ from defined sects to those who were excommunicated by the church courts, and those who were mocked in theatrical satire, to those who were executed and made martyrs. By handling the material thematically Walsham gives the reader a sense of the common factors by which religious difference was articulated, persecuted and even accommodated, from the national level to the level of individual communities. She argues that the histories of tolerance and intolerance need to be seen alongside each other, not as opposites and highlights that the residual problems of the English Reformation left the status of religious minorities in a constant state of flux. It is difficult studying religious minorities, frequently seen only through a veil of prejudice, but Walsham’s study testifies to the values of local and specific studies, and how they contribute to altering our view of the bigger picture, and shows that there is more work to be done in both how religious difference was articulated within communities, and how despite separate cultural and religious identities, in terms of socio-economic relations, communities may have been less divided than we think.
Kenneth Fincham and Peter Lake (eds.), Religious Politics in Post-Reformation England: Essays in Honour of Nicholas Tyacke (Woodbridge: Boydell, 2006). By Katie Wright Peter Lake in his ‘Introduction: Puritanism, Arminianism and Nicholas Tyacke’ admirably pulls together a discussion of Nicholas Tyacke’s contribution to historical research, both in his work on the rise of Arminianism and other subjects, and the debate which has arisen out of his work. The title of Lake’s other contribution to the book, ‘Anti-Puritanism: the Structure of a Prejudice’ refers back to his own article, ‘Anti-Popery: the Structure of a Prejudice’ in Richard Cust and Ann Hughes’ Conflict in Early Stuart England, the arguments of which he reviews here. The intention of the original essay was ‘to question the status of anti-popery as a mere prejudice, and instead to analyse it as a bearer of distinct and distinctive religio-political values and agendas.’ Here he employs similar tactics in a discussion of Puritanism or, rather, anti-Puritanism. Both popery and Puritanism were constructed and reconstructed over the course of this period, in a number of different environments, by a number of different groups to suit different personal, polemical and political purposes. By comparing the two Lake wants to ‘provide us with a means to register some of the ways in which contemporaries identified and dealt with areas of religious, political and cultural ambiguity, tension and conflict’ and to stress that far from dismissing them as ‘prejudices,’ even if that was what they both at times were, they can both tell us much more about the history of England in the post-Reformation period. Keith Thomas in his ‘Art and Iconoclasm in Early Modern England’ offers a general survey of the main two bouts of iconoclasm in England, one beginning in the late 1530s with the dissolution of the monasteries, the second in the 1640s removing the Laudian changes to church architecture. Between the two, he argues, in some quarters, something close to an appreciation of ‘art’ as we would understand it was developing. He looks at the subject of iconoclasm in England in this period, as the tile suggests, within the context of the contemporary understanding of ‘art,’ trying to understand how objects, both in churches and domestic interiors, were perceived and what ideologies spurred acts of their destruction. It was the purpose objects of art were used for rather than their aesthetic quality which led to iconoclasm. Thomas also notes the breadth of contemporary understanding of what constituted idolatry, that for some it was not merely images which were perceived as idolatrous but forms of prayer and ritual which were seen as devised by man and not God. Building on much of the current historiography on iconoclasm and the Reformation’s affect on the visual arts, Thomas argues that Protestantism in England never meant the total rejection of art. What it did mean was a plainer style and the increasing divorce of art from religion. Patrick Collinson’s article ‘What’s in a Name? Dudley Fenner and the Peculiarities of Puritan Nomenclature’ looks back to Nicholas Tyacke’s article on ‘Popular Puritan Mentality in Late Elizabethan England’ republished in his Aspects of Popular Protestantism on Puritan nomenclature (the use of names such as ‘Flee sin’ and ‘More Fruit’) in East Sussex and the Kentish Weald. Collinson builds on Tyacke’s work, linking in more recent scholarship on baptismal naming and godparents, and draws attention to a recently-discovered manuscript of questions and responses on naming put to Dudley Fenner by Archbishop Whitgift, a transcription of which he includes as an appendix. The strength of this article is its incorporation of Biblical and Hebrew names into the discussion of Puritan naming and fleshing out Fenner’s influence in the more-distinctive choice of names of godly exhortations. Although there is a unique density of names of godly signification like ‘Fear God’ in the areas of Tyacke’s study, re-iterated by Collinson, there is still more work to be done in studying the more long-term use of Biblical and other names of ‘godly signification’ like Chastity or Obedience in other areas and within the context of specific communities, by family, to explore the extent to which these name choices were distinct within communities and the extent to which they contributed to a specifically godly identity. Paul Seaver’s article ‘Puritan Preachers and their Patrons’ discusses the role played by patrons in the appointing and protection of preachers, as well as the reciprocal nature of patronage. Seaver explores the dedications included at the start of many printed tracts in the context of the lives and relationships of some preachers and ministers. Through his research he shows how often godly patronage meant far more than protection of nonconformity, or presentment to a ministerial position and that whilst godly preachers may have needed the protection of godly patrons, they also had their own expectations of the dedicatees of their tracts. Susan Harman Moore’s interesting account of the New England settlement in the early seventeenth century in ‘New England’s Reformation: ‘We shall be as a Citty upon a Hill, the Eies of All People are upon Us’ highlights the circumstantial nature of both the origins and the evolution of the ‘Reformation’ in New England and that the outcomes were not necessarily intended or predicted. Moore discusses how settlement in New England was infused with questions and doubts of purpose and providence. As well as looking at migration from the perspective of the migrants, she also explores how New England’s settlement was perceived from England and interestingly she draws attention to the numbers of settlers who returned to England in the 1640s and 1650s, not because of disenchantment with the ‘New England Way’ but for the most part through not seeing any reason to remain now that the religious situation had moved on, and was more to their liking. Richard Cust’s in his ‘Charles I and Providence’ offers an insight into the mental world of Charles I, particularly during the years of the Civil War. Although providence in the context of politics is usually associated with puritans, and indeed there have been studies of providence in the thinking of Oliver Cromwell, this article draws upon Geoff Browell’s unpublished thesis on the providentialism of the Royalists and looks at the providential thinking of Charles I, and how it affected his decision making in his last decade. Cust argues that although present in his education and throughout his life, a providential view of politics became a constant element in his thinking in dealing with the trauma and disappointments of the Civil War, in particular following his giving consent to the execution of the Earl of Strafford in 1641. Overall, this collection of essays cover a broad range of themes, all of which fall under the bracket of religious politics in early modern England. Other articles included in the collection are Diarmaid MacCulloch’s ‘The Latitude of the Church of England;’ Thomas Freeman’s ‘Joan of Contention: the Myth of the Female Pope in Early Modern England;’ Brett Usher, ‘The Fortunes of English Puritanism: an Elizabethan Perspective;’ Anthony Milton’s ‘Anglicanism’ by Stealth:’ the Career and Influence of John Overall;’ Thomas Cogswell’s ‘Destroyed for doing my Duty: Thomas Felton and the Penal Laws under Elizabeth and James I;’ Kenneth Fincham’s, ‘Material Evidence:’ the Religious Legacy of the Interregnam at St George Tombland, Norwich;’ and William Sheils, ‘John Shawe and Edward Bowles: Civic Preachers at Peace and War.’ *** C.R Cheney ed. A Handbook of Dates for Students of British History revised by Michael Jones (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004) By Katie Wright This book is a very useful tool for historians studying British history, not just for the early modern period but from the medieval period to the present day. It is a reference book for the different styles of dating which a student of British history may come across in the documents they study. It begins by explaining different ways in which time has been divided in Britain’s history and the different forms of calendar which have been used. The next part details other forms of breaking down time, listing, for instance, the Popes and their dates, saints’ days and the date of the month they fall on, and the rulers of England, their dates of accession and their regnal years. This latter section is the reason why I first discovered this book, when I wanted to find an easy way to work out what year the ‘40th of Elizabeth’ referred to. (The answer is 17 November 1597 to 16 November 1598.) The book goes on to explain legal chronology, for example giving lists of the dates of the Hilary, Easter, Trinity and Michelmas terms from 1066 to 1830. Towards the end it gives a calendar for all possible dates for Easter from AD 400-2100. Finally, the French Revolutionary calendar is detailed as well as the dates for the adoption of the Gregorian calendar in Europe listed. Another book which might also be of interest to students of British History is E.B. Fryde, D.E. Greenway, S. Porter, and I. Ray ed. Handbook of British Chronology (Cambridge, 3rd edition, 2003). It works in a similar way to the Handbook of Dates but is more concerned with people than dates. Amongst other things, it contains lists of English, Irish and Scottish officers of state; rulers of England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland; archbishops and bishops of England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland; dukes and earls of England, Ireland and Scotland. The chronology covered by this book is wide and lists in some categories stretch from the Middle Ages to late twentieth century. *** Marion Gibson, Possession, Puritanism and Print: Darrell, Harsnett, Shakespeare and the Elizabethan Exorcism Controversy (London, 2006) By Katie Wright Demonic possession and exorcism remains a popular subject for historians and literary critics but Marion Gibson presents new angles to the topic in her very approachable and clearly explained study of the John Darrell cases at the end of the sixteenth century. Not only does she bridge the gap between history and literary criticism but she places the cases of John Darrell within the contexts of the communities in which they took place, using extensive archival research, rather than relying merely on the contemporary texts about the Darrell dispossessions. As she herself asserts, the tracts written by Darrell, his supporters and his enemies ‘are so long and complex, scattering information like confetti, that any reading looking for a ready and coherent narrative is doomed to repeat past mistakes.’(p.16-17) Despite the rhetorical web that the discussion of the Darrell exorcisms are encased in, and the bias of the sources, it is possible to gain some sense of the activities surrounding the dispossession and a sense of the arguments of the different sides of the debate. Other historians have succeeded in this too, but Gibson is able to take it further through the background she gives to the cases from archival sources. She, for example, establishes for the first time that John Darrell could not have been in Ashby-de-la-Zouch in order to be able to teach William Sommers to counterfeit his possession, as was claimed in his trial. Gibson provides simultaneously a chronological and thematic overview of the cases, placing the ‘facts’ of the exorcisms within the polemical debates of the time. She places the cases of Thomas Darling and William Sommers within the society, economy and politics of Burton-on-Trent and Nottingham. As a result, she is able to claim that the later concern over Darrell’s activities after his dispossession of William Sommers ‘came as much from the civil and ecclesiastical authorities at Nottingham as from Bancroft and his allies’ (p.71.) In chapter four, she uses the Darling case and other cases of possessed children to explore the issue of youth and authority in possession cases. In the final chapter, she deals with the aftermath of the Darrell trial and looks at how exorcism was depicted on the stage, in particular in King Lear, The Comedy of Errors, Twelfth Night and The Devil is an Ass. Gibson, however, never allows the reader to forget the different sides of the debates over Darrell’s activities, and the wider political and social narratives of the time. She makes clear that how and why the events were written about are as key as the historical facts of the cases: ‘the battle was one of representation and perception’ (p.101.) It is the wider narratives of the texts which make them so relevant to a wider readership than merely a discussion of cases of exorcism in the sixteenth century would attract. *** ‘Moderate is as Moderate Does’ - a Review of ‘Moderate Voices in the European Reformation’ edited by Luc Racaut & Alec Ryrie, St Andrews Studies in Reformation History, Ashgate, 2005 By Sylvia Gill As befits a volume which I understand arose from the work of the European Reformation Research Group, the ten articles in this collection discuss events and individuals both at home and abroad. As such, they give an insight into the breadth of responses to the religious change personally, geographically and politically. In addition, however, if you thought that you knew the meaning of the word, ‘moderate’, and also what it means to be a ‘moderate’, then reading the articles in this collection might make you think again. Alexandra Kess describes the mix of political, religious and intellectual responses to the Reformation amongst an influential group in the France of Francis I. Here, what has been defined as ‘moderate’ is interpreted as being in reality this group’s (and their King’s) strategy for a peace which was more important than doctrine but never allowed their basic Catholicism to be undermined. This has a similar feel to Elaine Fulton’s ‘Wolves and Weathervanes’, which assesses the Viennese Habsburg court and confessional moderation where concessions to Protestant demands provided a semblance of toleration and a period of stability which allowed the Catholic Habsburgs to strengthen both family and faith. Louise Campbell discusses, ‘A Diagnosis of Religious Moderation’ in the context of the 1559 Settlement and Matthew Parker. The latter’s moderate stance, Campbell sees as the result of a prioritising of civil order and the rights of the monarch being combined with Parker’s inclination to compromise on ‘things indifferent’; a combination which arose from the ‘fluidity of the early Reformation’ with which he had grown up. Campbell’s concept of ‘fluidity’ might form the background for Michael Riordan’s ‘Three Berkshire Courtiers’ who were contemporary with Parker. These three Riordan describes as ‘a traditionalist, a reformer and a politique’, who nevertheless managed to work together in various capacities throughout the reigns of Henry and his children. Riordan sees this as evidence of ‘negotiation on the ground’, perhaps the ‘fluidity’ of the confessional debate allowed for such relationships to operate. Elizabeth Tingle’s discussion on inter-confessional dialogue in Nantes highlights the independence of the Breton region and its culture and church being distinct from France as a whole; in this context Breton ‘moderate messages’ had their basis in a desire for peace and the retention of regional authority and identity. Alain Tallon, (translated by Luc Racaut), examines the Gallican church and a possible ‘via media’ arising from various ‘projects’ which were argued by a spectrum of interested groups ranging from those who proposed possible agreements with Protestants to reforming Catholics and the replacement of the Pope by the King as the servant of a national church. However, in Tallon’s view all were arguing from within the framework of a traditional church and ‘a discourse of loyalty’ and should not be interpreted as having any ‘ecumenical’ aspirations. Kenneth Austin’s article on Tremellius investigates the motivations behind the career of a man who, born a Jew, became a Catholic convert and then a Calvinist. Austin’s Tremellius is a man with a strategy to avoid, (further?), controversy rather than modelling moderation. Alison Carter’s focus is Rene Benoist, a Parisian theologian who in his earlier career was confessor to Mary, Queen of Scots. Always outside the Catholic League, Benoist was an independent with an enthusiasm for the translation of the Bible, New Testament and Book of Hours into French for ‘the Catholic masses’. Benoist accomplished and published these translations not as a moderate but as part of his desire to encourage a wider Catholic renewal which could defeat Protestantism. However, such works gave him a dubious reputation with his fellow Catholics; there was an outcry from his colleagues at the University of Paris for whom the vernacular Bible was anathema, (particularly one which had the Genevan translation as its base), and Rome denied him a Bishopric. For Graeme Murdock, in ‘Moderation under Duress? Calvinist Irenicism in Early Seventeenth-century Royal Hungary’, what might appear to be the language of moderation is in reality the language of survival; a thesis borne out by the analysis of several of his fellow historians in their respective articles. His main protagonist, Janos Samarjai, was a Calvinist whose personal theology, his response to ‘matters indifferent’ and sympathy for ‘ordinary parishioners’, provided for the inclusion of exorcism, an acceptance of some images and the use of wafers in Communion. Thus, his invitations to Lutherans and his apparent moderate stance were made up of his own critical assessment of what was demanded for salvation and what was not, combined with the recognition of the returning strength of Catholicism. As with Benoist in Paris in the 16th century and his desire to strengthen his Catholic church for the fight, so Samarjai in 17th century Royal Hungary. Samarjai wanted a Reformed Protestant unity which, focused on confessional similarities and supporting the needs of its members to keep them within the fold, would be able to survive the efforts of the Counter-Reformation. Ethan Shagan points out that defining ‘moderate’ depends on your point of view, citing Peter Lake’s work on ‘moderate Puritans,’ who accepted a government’s right to rule on ceremonial matters and therefore could expect obedience from the governed. He further notes that ‘moderate’ and ‘tolerant’ together with ‘indifferent’ have been discussed at various points in history, ‘in often deadly ways’ which points up a nice correlation between Shagan and Mark Greengrass and his article which concludes the collection. In, ‘Moderate Voices: Mixed Messages’, Greengrass suggests that the issues raised in this collection supports a proposal made by Heiko Oberman for a ‘social history of toleration’. This, Greengrass argues, would allow the application of these terms, (moderate, tolerant), to be set in context, noting that some research has already highlighted the pre and post Reformation theory and practise of ‘toleration’. This is a subject which has been gaining ground as more recently than the collection under review here, it formed the basis for Alexandra Walsham’s book ‘Charitable Hatred: Tolerance and Intolerance in England, 1500-1700’, published in 2006. Walsham argues that the terms ‘tolerance’ and ‘intolerance’ should be viewed as parallel not opposites and also in the context of the ‘state of flux’, (an influence of Campbell’s ‘fluidity?), which Reformation religious minorities experienced, (see Katie Wright’s review of this work on this website). Shagan makes the point that if we (modern-day historians) seek out moderation; we are in danger of both finding it and interpreting the evidence in modern terms. But we shouldn’t completely disregard our own comparisons and analogies if genuine insight is what results. A wide variety of responses to the Reformation experience are described in the above articles; we see the interplay of contemporary events and personalities and historians teasing out analysis from the evidence. ‘Moderate Voices’ sprang from a variety of sources, there is no single definition, they spoke out to express and achieve equally varying needs; personal survival, confessional survival, consciously or unconsciously, moderate is as moderate does or perhaps, as moderate demands.
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