Restorationists and New Movements in North America

Wakefield's Offspring

Reviewed by: Imperial White: Race, Diaspora, and the British Empire Angela Woollacott Imperial White: Race, Diaspora, and the British Empire. By Radhika Mohanram. (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2007) Despite the efflorescence of critically-engaged work in British imperial history (along with comparable work on other empires), there has been little cross-fertilization between postcolonial studies and whiteness studies within it. Perhaps the main reason for this is the dearth of historical scholarship on empires and colonialism that brings the insights of the interdisciplinary field of whiteness studies to bear. Given the central role of British and other settlers within the British Empire from the seventeenth century onwards, and the large scale of settler migration in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, the lack of application of theory from whiteness studies (a field that has developed substantially in recent years) has been surprising. For this reason even if there were no other, Radhika Mohanram’s new book Imperial White is to be welcomed. Mohanram, a scholar who brings together postcolonial studies, feminist theory and cultural studies, has explored the potential of applying insights from whiteness studies to various areas and episodes of British imperial history, and has produced several original interpretations that emphasize both embodiment and psychoanalytic categories. The book is a collection of essays, some of which were previously published (including one article in this journal). This format of self-contained essays unified by thematic interests allows for a diverse range of topics. Mohanram succeeds in revealing the heterogeneity of whiteness, and especially its historical specificity—the ways in which it has been variously shaped by quite particular geographic, historical and cultural circumstances and racial hierarchies. Moreover, her focus moves around the empire, between and across colonies and the metropole. One of the great strengths of Mohanram’s work, to my mind, is her inclusion of the white-settler colonies in the same frame of analysis as the colonies of exploitation. In her first book Black Body: Women, Colonialism, Space Mohanram discussed feminism and racial politics in New Zealand, and raised fascinating questions about how feminist theory shifts as it moves between northern and southern hemispheres. Here, the colonial sites which compel her attention range from India, to Australia, and New Zealand. An example of the originality and suggestiveness to be found in the book is the fifth chapter, on the emotional dimensions of settler history in nineteenth-century New Zealand. Based on several accounts by settlers, Mohanram posits that white settlers in nineteenth-century New Zealand experienced a great deal of mourning and melancholy—due to death, loss of their children, accidents, illness, mental breakdown, alcoholism, and the uncertainties of the settlement process. Settler melancholy became linked to guilt and denial about the deaths of Maori. These psychological and emotional dimensions were so imbricated in the process of settlement that there was “an illegitimacy at the heart of racial identity,” and melancholy became integral to whiteness in nineteenth-century New Zealand (123). Mohanram uses Freud to consider the role of mourning and melancholy in subject formation; and links the trope of cannibalism to the devouring of land by Pakeha (the term for white settlers in New Zealand), particularly in the context of the failure of the 1840 Treaty of Waitangi to prevent the wars of the 1860s. She suggests that New Zealand identity is defined through loss: the loss of land for the Maori and the loss of home for the Pakeha, with “both groups caught in the web of denial of loss and incorporation of the Other” (138). Pakeha as a white-settler identity was “a melancholic formation” due to “loss of home and the cultural and bodily safety that the familiar conveys,” while Maori too became melancholic because of the loss of their land and their “lack of economic and social privileges” (138–9). White settler women, she suggests, had an even greater sense of loss and isolation and therefore degree of melancholy than settler men. Chapter Six analyzes the interesting topic of the Irish in India, within a wider discussion of skin and modern racial taxonomies—again with reference to Freud. Mohanram approaches the topic of the Irish in India through a reading of Rudyard Kipling...

Disrupted and Unsettled: An Introduction to Monuments, Memorials, and Italian Migrations

New Scholarship

Joseph Smith Jr. found himself in court many times throughout his life. Historians argue that his problematic relationship with the law began in 1826 when he faced disorderly person charges in Bainbridge, New York. According to the pretrial sources, some of Josiah Stowell's family members charged that Joseph Smith claimed to have supernatural powers: Horace Stowell and Arad Stowell claimed that he used seer stones to see lost, stolen, and hidden things and to seek treasure.1 An additional disorderly person hearing followed in 1829 in Lyons, New York. In 1830, a disorderly person charge brought Joseph Smith back to court in Bainbridge, New York. In the same year, a final disorderly person charge took him to court in Colesville, New York.2 Since these events, there has been a vigorous discussion over whether Smith's implication in these practices should disqualify his prophetic claims. This framing of the charges has sometimes overshadowed the legal debates.3Previous attempts to understand these legal events have assumed that these cases were built upon early examples of anti-fraud legislation.4 The basis of this interpretation is the use of the word "pretended" and allegations of "juggling," or sleight-of-hand, which appear in both New York's 1813 disorderly person statute and the accounts of Joseph Smith's court proceedings. However, reading these cases in terms of fraud may result from a cultural misunderstanding between modern researchers and their nineteenth-century subjects. For instance, Dan Vogel noted that Justice Neeley, who oversaw the 1826 case, was interested in allegedly pretended powers not economic deception.5This article proposes that Joseph Smith's early trials were about "pretended witchcraft and magic"6 and the related thoughtcrime of "pretended religion," categories of crime generated during the Enlightenment to categorize unorthodox religious traditions as witchcraft while negating their claims to miraculous or supernatural powers. Smith's defense that he really was a seer was irrelevant because the legal system categorized the spiritual practice of treasure seeking as pretended witchcraft and magic.To understand Joseph Smith's interactions with New York's 1813 disorderly person statute, historians must evaluate the historical and cultural trends associated with the legislative precedent that contributed to the 1813 statute. This comparative method has been a standard in witchcraft studies for decades.7 Throughout the analysis of these laws and charges, I use evidence from Joseph Smith's life outside the courtroom to demonstrate that fear of witchcraft motivated these charges while expressions of that fear were suppressed in the later narratives of these legal persecutions. Evidence outside the courtroom demonstrates that the conspiracies and persecutions endured by Joseph Smith were echoes of the witchcraft belief exemplified more than a century earlier in Salem, Massachusetts.The New York disorderly persons statue belongs to a specific legislative history aimed at magic and witchcraft. Legislation aimed at policing treasure seeking, the use of seer stones, and finding lost and stolen items through a gift from God or other supernatural means was meant to curb the influence of "the cunning-folk."8 Cunning-folk were folk-Christian healers whom religious authorities conflated with "diabolical witches" in early modern Europe, an imaginary category of people who were alleged to renounce their baptism and swear loyalty to the devil and his war on Christendom.9 Folk-Christian beliefs covered a range of magical practices. The King Henry Witchcraft Act of 1542 marked the earliest Anglophone legislation aimed at curbing treasure seeking. Queen Elizabeth's Witchcraft Act of 1563 repealed and replaced King Henry's Act and was subsequently superseded by the King James Witchcraft Act of 1604.10 All three intended to control the diabolical witch, but their language reveals their intent to penalize the cunning-folks' spiritual practices. This was also true of other acts passed throughout the British Isles.11 In 1692, the Massachusetts colony passed a witchcraft act based on the King James Act of 1604, explicitly targeted cunning-folk practices, including treasure seeking.12 This was the cornerstone upon which all Anglophone witchcraft legislation was founded, including the pretended witchcraft legislation of the eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth centuries.The cultural conversation around demonology informed this legislation's development. Early modern demonologies began in a Roman Catholic environment obsessed with controlling heresy.13 These works fused ideas from the Bible, Patristic writings of the early church, the Lives of Saints, Greco-Roman literature, and classical poetry to construct a historical foundation of the "witch" stereotype. This stereotype combined with diabolized depictions of popular fairy belief, folk-Christianity deemed superstitious by religious authorities, heresy, and popular concerns about maleficium. Continental believers' demonologies targeted the folk-Christian observances of the cunning-folk as examples of superstition and a living tradition of witchcraft.14 This tool could be abused against a wide variety of people regardless of the content of their beliefs and practices. For example, demonologist Nicholas Rémy claimed that a woman whose practices were completely orthodox could still be guilty of witchcraft, that witches were guilty of imitating Elijah and Elisha, and that witches were guilty of using religion to mask their alleged diabolism.15 Thus folk-Christian practices were easily distorted into diabolical witchcraft by religious and legal authorities.English demonologies appeared in the decades after the English Reformation when religious leaders led "a Henrician assault on popular religion."16 Fear of cunning-folk carried over to North America, where Cotton Mather attributed the rise of witchcraft in New England to the arrival of Quakers, cunning-folk, and Native American shamans.17 When Richard Boulton wrote one of the last significant believers' demonologies in England, paraphrasing Exodus 22:18, he asserted, "wise Women are not fit to live," without elaboration.18 He fully expected his eighteenth-century audience to understand that the cunning-folk were the witches targeted in English demonology and anti-witchcraft law. At the beginning of the Second Great Awakening, Ezra Stiles would preach a sermon conflating cunning-folk activities and Native American spiritual practices with witchcraft. He did so to "lay this whole Iniquity open, that all the remains of it might be rooted out."19 Concerns over the diabolical witch and the cunning-folk would continue in the Anglophone world into the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.20Belief in the "diabolical witch" was the orthodox position between the fifteenth and seventeenth centuries, but there were also detractors. The Dutch physician Johann Weyer argued that the devil took advantage of imbalances in the humor of black bile to produce a mental illness (melancholy). He argued that the devil did so to generate illusions that deceived people into believing that witches were real and that magic was efficacious.21 Weyer still targeted cunning-folk practices and conflated them with necromancy, but he denied their efficacy. English skeptic Reginald Scott argued that the sorcerers of the Bible, the religious authorities of the pagan world, Catholic priests, and cunning-folk—whom he called "cozening witches"—all utilized sleight of hand and deception, not actual demonic powers, to lead people into idolatry or to deceive them.22 These skeptical demonologists described the beliefs and practices of pagan religions, Catholicism, Christian enthusiasts, and the cunning-folk as false prophecy, legerdemain, juggling, and pretended powers. They remained a vocal but marginalized position within demonology throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.By the eighteenth century, skeptical demonology replaced believing demonology as the dominant view, and unorthodox spiritual practices came to be defined as pretended by those in power. In the Anglophone world, this included the practices of cunning-folk, gypsies, Catholics, and Indigenous peoples. However, it also included the beliefs and practices of charismatic Christians pejoratively labeled "enthusiasts." For example, Reverend Francis Hutchinson cited the beliefs and practices of radical Protestants known as the French Prophets as pretended. In his book on this religious minority, he consistently defined charismatic Christian claims to spiritual power as enthusiasm, pretended, legerdemain, and juggling.23 The King George Witchcraft Act of 1735 ended diabolical witchcraft as a legal category in England and Scotland and made "pretended" the legal standard in Enlightenment England.24The King George Witchcraft Act of 1735 developed within a broader legal environment that had produced similar statutes throughout Europe.25 The first of these was the French Edict of 1692, which reclassified witchcraft into crimes like poisoning, sacrilege, and pretended powers. Notably, a similar law produced in the same environment defined Protestantism as a pretended religion and penalized Protestant leaders for advocating pretended religion.26 In colonial America, the state used anti-vagrancy legislation to control religious deviants like Jesuits, Quakers, and Enthusiasts by labeling them vagabonds and disorderly persons, then penalizing them for breaking vagrancy law.27Skeptical witchcraft legislation continued to be developed in the American colonies and then the United States into the nineteenth century.28 When New York drafted the 1813 disorderly person statute, it continued this trend by utilizing the language of early European witchcraft legislation. The relevant portion of the law addresses vagrancy and defines a disorderly person as "all jugglers [those who cheat or deceive by sleight of hand or tricks of extraordinary dexterity], and . . . all persons pretending to have skill in physiognomy, palmistry, or like crafty science, or pretending to tell fortunes, or to discover where lost goods may be found."29 This statute had much in common with the anti-vagrancy and pretended witchcraft legislation of the Anglophone world of the eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth centuries, a product of a larger legal environment that employed the King George Witchcraft Act of 1735 as a model.30 This model preemptively defined religious and spiritual unorthodoxy as pretended witchcraft, magic, or religion. By categorizing people's beliefs and practices as pretended this legislation allowed the state to discriminate against unorthodox spiritual traditions by deliberately conflating them with criminal deception.Legislation based on skeptical demonology continued in nineteenth-century England with the 1824 Act for the Punishment of Idle and Disorderly Persons, and Rogues and Vagabonds, in that Part of Great Britain called England.31 This act criminalized "every person pretending or professing to tell fortunes, or using any subtle Craft, Means, or Device, by Palmistry or otherwise, to deceive and impose."32 According to Owen Davies, the clause was "widely used in prosecuting rural cunning-folk."33 Throughout the British Empire and its former colonies, the government used anti-vagrancy legislation and skeptical witchcraft legislation to categorize people's genuine beliefs and religious practices as "pretended" as late as the twentieth and twenty-first centuries.34Besides Joseph Smith, only one other well-known example of disorderly person prosecution for treasure seeking in early America employs the word "pretended" to describe alleged supernatural gifts—the disorderly person charges against Dr. Luman Walters.35 Walters's case is only known due to newspaper articles discussing a documented case in New Hampshire.36 Because the notes from Luman Walters's trial are not available, it is impossible to explore how the court used "pretended" in disorderly person trials in the nineteenth century. But through Walters's alleged conviction in New York we can see how this legislation was used to penalize Walters for cunning-folk practices.37 Later allegations that Walters was a necromancer reveal the underlying religious bias which conflated cunning-folk with witches.38Although it is tempting to read "pretended" as fraud, there is reason to be cautious. According to Lynne Hume, in Anglophone witchcraft legislation "'pretends to exercise' means something else. The presumption is that people are not able to do these things and therefore whoever says they can is acting in a fraudulent manner."39 In previous generations, legal authorities and religious authorities superseded the cunning-folks' beliefs and practices by presuming that the cunning-folk were diabolical witches. After the Enlightenment, the same psychological process allowed Anglophone legal authorities to recategorize genuine belief and practices as pretended witchcraft. In both cases the legal system deliberately conflated unorthodox spiritual traditions with another crime to enable the policing of unorthodox spirituality. This tells us more about the beliefs of those in power than it does about the traditions these legal categories were designed to punish.Despite legal skepticism, belief in diabolical witchcraft continued into Joseph Smith's lifetime and beyond.40 The nineteenth-century repeal of Ireland's 1586 witchcraft statute inspired the publication of the anonymous pamphlet Antipas, which conflated Catholicism and Dissenters with witchcraft and urged Parliament to restrict both groups' religious activities. The pamphlet would have had a broad audience. As Andrew Sneddon has explained, "for the vast majority of those placed lower down the social ladder, especially those living in small, close-knit rural areas, the existence of the malefic witch continued to be regarded as a threat to their property and persons in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The same holds true for North America."41The diabolical witch doctrine still had its believers in Joseph Smith's early nineteenth-century environment, although the law no longer recognized diabolical witchcraft as a reality. Smith's critic Alexander Campbell argued for a synthesized demonology that allowed for pretended necromancy and diabolical necromancy to coexist as two different kinds of witchcraft.42 Campbell's use of necromancy charges in witchcraft allegations was a standard pattern within the Second Great Awakening.43 Likewise, treasure seeking became a primary target of witchcraft fear and belief during this period.44 People who feared cunning-folk, alleged false-prophets, Catholics, Atheists, non-white spiritual practices, and religious movements like the Quakers, the Shakers, and the Wilkensonians saw the practices they feared most as both pretended and diabolical, often describing these groups as practicing necromancy.45 In the early nineteenth-century environment of legal skepticism and the common suppressed belief that diabolical witches existed, one would expect to find the categories of pretended witchcraft and diabolical witchcraft used to label Joseph Smith's folk-Christian practices of treasure seeking in 1826 as well as charismatic expressions of Christian belief in 1830.When Joseph Smith, a young treasure seeker, had his first visionary experience, local religious leaders reacted negatively in ways that Smith family members considered surprising.46 At the age of fourteen, an unnamed assailant fired a bullet at Joseph Smith as he returned home.47 In 1823, Joseph Smith experienced an envisioned visitation of an angel, who declared that Smith would be a prophet and uncover a buried scripture. Within a year of this experience, rumors began to circulate that someone had disinterred and dissected his older brother Alvin's body.48 Dan Vogel and Michael Quinn believe that these were allegations of utilizing part of Alvin's body to acquire the golden plates. These rumors portrayed the act of acquiring the golden plates as a form of necromancy.49 These allegations may have been an initial, failed, attempt to charge Joseph Smith with a crime. As William Morain points out, "violating a grave" was "a felony offense for which, in 1824, he could have been incarcerated in the New York state prison for five years."50 A year later, in 1825, Josiah Stowell heard about Joseph Smith's gift for using his seer stone, perhaps tied to rumors of Joseph's 1823 vision of an angel who led him to the gold plates. Josiah Stowell requested that Joseph reside at his home as a farmworker who would aid Stowell in his treasure seeking. Joseph's parents agreed, perhaps to remove him from a dangerous environment. However, trouble followed Joseph Smith Jr. to Bainbridge, New York. In 1826, Stowell's nephew took Joseph Smith to court as a disorderly person.51Allegations of witchcraft continued after the trials as well, with some ascribed to Joseph's life in the 1820s. In 1834, testimonies ascribed to Smith's neighbors appeared in the anti-Mormon book Mormonism Unvailed.52 The affidavits in this book describe Smith's activities through the paradigms of pretended and diabolical witchcraft. In one of these affidavits, discussing a period between the 1826 and 1830 hearings, Sophia Lewis, who also served as Emma Smith's midwife, reported that Joseph and Emma's child died horribly deformed at birth. Her affidavit is notable because the diabolical witch's doctrine and folklore viewed deformed births and stillbirth as evidence of witchcraft.53 Shortly after Alvin's death, Emma Smith returned to her parents' Methodist church in Harmony. When Joseph Smith attempted to attend, it sparked a controversy that included church members' allegations of necromancy and other witchcraft practices. In the 1879 remembrances of these events, Emma's relatives made it clear that those involved in this controversy believed Joseph Smith "was a conjurer" and "a sorcerer," clarifying that these were forms of "witchcraft."54 This same Methodist congregation later threatened violence against Joseph Smith, which forced him to move to the home of Peter Whitmer Sr. in Fayette, New York.55Beginning in 1830, Joseph Smith's restorationism utilized the example of the Christian curses used by Old Testament Prophets, as well as Jesus and the Apostles in the New Testament. Joseph instructed his missionaries and followers to employ ritualized dusting of feet and clothing as a testament against those who persecuted them and rejected their message. This practice continued into the 1890s and would have provided ample material for those who believed that Joseph Smith and his followers were witches.56 Allegations of witchcraft continued in February 1831 with Alexander Campbell's publication of "Delusions," an anti-Mormon article in his periodical the Millennial Harbinger.57 In this article, Campbell uses familiar skeptical tropes and employs demonology to compare Joseph Smith and Mormonism with false prophecy, enthusiasm, and witchcraft. He directly compared Joseph Smith to Simon Magus and Elymas, the sorcerers of the Bible.58 Campbell leaves no room for equivocation: "I have never felt myself so fully authorized to address mortal man in the style in which Paul addressed Elymas the sorcerer as I feel towards this Atheist Smith."59 During the same year, mobs pursued Joseph Smith's followers as they left New York for Ohio.60 In 1832, Campbell's was as a In anti-witchcraft violence can be in the that Joseph Smith and in this Joseph Smith that these which he as a to their As a of a by Smith may have of Joseph Smith to Simon they Joseph Smith, the attempted to his to therefore or Joseph the it . . . us his They attempted to a of into his Joseph claimed that the not to but they would . . . All were and one man on and body with his like a Smith had to the from his to more The easily use of has In the nineteenth century, the was believed to be a means of a witch's powers and was a common of anti-witchcraft of witchcraft belief continued later into Joseph Smith's life. In 1834, the would the affidavits in his Mormonism This like a of skeptical and believers' describing Smith's alleged folk-Christian activities through the pretended and diabolical witchcraft As late as Smith of Campbell's continued witchcraft The year, Joseph Smith's last treasure ended with a that his to the more and of this For there are more than one for in this This treasure took in Salem, that the that had followed Smith to this in could be through a of early American witchcraft belief and In Smith's Joseph of to He claimed that Smith, the of had two who of when they the of the false and to their and are that they were not left to the power of the devil and Smith, to their with a crime so would appear that many of Smith's him of witchcraft and magic throughout his early life and to the by and there are three of in witchcraft The first and most of court and of The is These that the these often the beliefs and of the historians of witchcraft these by controlling for allegations of into these accounts by their The category are In Joseph Smith's 1826, and 1830 disorderly person only the court into the category of do not have the trial notes or sources, only of the used to the 1826 pretrial are known as the and the The only in articles to the pretrial The first of these articles appeared in with in and The is by William as a of his alleged as at the 1826 was in for the 1830 there are accounts by Joseph Smith, his and other a in witchcraft An additional related to the 1830 disorderly person cases is a ascribed to Justice of the George who oversaw the disorderly person of As with all sources, these accounts should be read events they describe may not took in They may also or of these As in all accounts of witch we must for the of in of Joseph Smith's alleged accounts of the 1826 disorderly person pretrial evidence that they into the larger pattern of In the there is evidence about Joseph his and his folk-Christian The Joseph Smith as a a for cunning-folk who compared to Old Testament The addresses the cunning-folk practice of utilizing seer also that these were Stowell and as believed As an the claims that Josiah Stowell's and two . . . or to of Joseph Smith's of his seer stones folk-Christian practices. claims that after a vision of a stone, Joseph Smith to find his seer stone, and the significant about how he the after he found This is when one the writings of a modern Dutch In his book on his folk-Christian practices, provided a for the of miraculous stones to God and for upon the This a larger pattern of Joseph Smith his other seer stones, as by This may be a of Joseph his first seer The also the powers within a folk-Christian that when Joseph had the stone, one of the of an an earlier of Joseph Smith's alleged as a seer as an According to this Joseph Smith Sr. his alleged gift and many of his finding hidden and stolen and that he that both he and his were that this power that God had so him should be used only in of or its in and with a he his to his was to this power. He that the of would some the of the and enable him to see testimonies of Smith's powers were a in the The was Josiah who the testimonies of Joseph Sr. and Joseph examples of the Joseph Smith's Stowell many other not to that Smith the he and many to his The then that Justice Stowell's belief in Joseph Smith's alleged as a treasure I believe says I believe it is not a of I it to be claims Joseph Smith his treasure that the treasure not be by by after with and they to the by These are a of the folk-Christian utilized by treasure of which Joseph Smith Sr. is believed to have According to both the and these were to a placed on the treasure by the person who buried When their attempts to acquire the treasure the at the folk-Christian for the treasure a against the devil over the of seeking from some five feet in had been without a of war against this of was and they that the of or of some mental was the of their between folk-Christian and for Joseph Smith's and depictions of these practices as When demonologists argue against of cunning-folk beliefs and practices, they described the common that practices were by the Christian would then attempt to by that folk-Christian practices were forms of false an with the For those who believed demonologists than evidence of folk-Christian was evidence of the is on this of the 1826 it Joseph Smith's seer use and treasure seeking, it does not a of power he ascribed these to that would us to compare his alleged practices to the In of these it Joseph Smith's and activities

Missionary Cosmopolitanism in Nineteenth-Century British Literature

ANCIENT: Edessa ‘the Blessed City’. By J. B. Segal ANCIENT: Saeculum: History and Society in the Theology of st. Augustine. By R. A. Markus ANCIENT: Bread and the Liturgy: The Symbolism of Early Christian and Byzantine Bread Stamps. By George Galavaris MEDIEVAL: Life in Anglo‐Saxon England. By R. I. Page MEDIEVAL: The Entry of the Slavs into Christendom. By A. P. Vlasto MEDIEVAL: It is a pleasure to welcome a new edition of Cecily Clark's edition of the Peterborough Chronicle, 1070–1154 MEDIEVAL: The Age of Chivalry. Manners and Morals 1000–1450. By C. T. Wood MEDIEVAL: The Knight and Chivalry. By Richard Barber MEDIEVAL: Scripta Leonis, Rufini et Angeli Sociorum s. Francisci. The Writings of leo, Rufino and Angelo Companions of st. Francis. Edited and translated by Rosalind B. Brooke MEDIEVAL: Irrigation and Society in Medieval Valencia. By Thomas F. Glick MEDIEVAL: English Historical Documents: vol. iv, 1327–1485. Edited by A. R. Myers MEDIEVAL: Bernardo Giustiniani. A Venetian of the Quattrocento. By Patricia H. Labalme MEDIEVAL: The Renaissance Discovery of Classical Antiquity. By Roberto Weiss MEDIEVAL: The Imperial Age of Venice, 1380–1580. By D. S. Chambers MEDIEVAL: The Three Ages of the Italian Renaissance. By Robert S. Lopez MEDIEVAL: Geoffrey Trease's the Condottieri EARLY MODERN: The Foundations of the Modern World 1300–1775. By L. Gottschalk, L. C. Mackinney and E. H. Pritchard EARLY MODERN: Monastic Iconography in France from the Renaissance to the Revolution. By Joan Evans EARLY MODERN: Tudor Royal Proclamations. Edited by Paul L. Hughes and James F. Larkin EARLY MODERN: Theatre of the World. By Frances A. Yates EARLY MODERN: La Plume, la Faucille et le Marteau: Institutions et Societe en France du Moyen age a la Revolution. By Roland Mousnier EARLY MODERN: The French Nobility in Crisis, 1560–1640. By Davis Bitton EARLY MODERN: Les Oeconomies Royales de Sully, Volume 1, 1572–1594. Edited by David Buisseret and Bernard Barbiche EARLY MODERN: Change in the Provinces: The Seventeenth Century. By Alan Everitt EARLY MODERN: Calvinism and the Amyraut Heresy. Protestant Scholasticism and Humanism in Seventeenth‐Century France. By Brian C. Armstrong EARLY MODERN: God's Englishman: Oliver Cromwell and the English Revolution. By Christopher Hill EARLY MODERN: Donald Veall takes a good subject in the Popular Movement for law Reform, 1640–1660 EARLY MODERN: Michael Landon also begins his the triumph of the Lawyers: Their Role in English Politics, 1678–1689 EARLY MODERN: Robert Harley, Puritan Politician. By Angus McInnes EARLY MODERN: New Cambridge Modern History Volume vi: The Rise of Great Britain and Russia 1688–1715/25. Edited by J. S. Bromley EARLY MODERN: The Growth of English Overseas Trade in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries. Edited with an Introduction by W. E. Minchinton EARLY MODERN: Britain After the Glorious Revolution 1689–1715. 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By François Furot and Denis Richot THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY: Biography is not a medium much used by present teachers of modern European history and Madame Roland and the age of Revolution by Gita May THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY: Napoleon and Paris. By Maurice Guerrini. Translated by Margery Weiner THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY: Power in the Industrial Revolution. By Richard L. Hills THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY: The Textile Industry. By W. English THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY: Systèmes Agraires et Progrès Agricole: l'Assolement Triennal en Russie aux xviii e ‐xix e Siecles. By M. Confino THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: The First Industrial Nation. An Economic History of Britain 1700–1914. By Peter Mathias THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: The Foreign Ministers of Alexander I: Political Attitudes and the Conduct of Russian Diplomacy 1801–1825. By Patricia K. Grimsted THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: Bureaucracy and Church Reform. the Organizational Response of the Church of England to Social Change 1800–1965. By Kenneth A. Thompson THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: Father of Racist Ideology. The Social and Political Thought of Count Gobineau. By Michael D. Biddiss THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: Marx Before Marxism. By David McLellan THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: Baines's Account of the Woollen Manufacture of England. With a new Introduction by K. G. Ponting THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: The Victorian Crisis of Faith: Six Lectures. Edited by Anthony Symondson THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: Popular Movements, C. 1830–1850. Edited by J. T. Ward THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: The Pauper Press. A Study of Working‐Class Radicalism of the 1830s. By Patricia Hollis THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: The war of the Unstamped. The Movement to Repeal the British Newspaper Tax, 1830–1836. By J. H. Wiener THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: Free Trade: Theory and Practice from Adam Smith to Keynes. By N. McCord THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: The Dietary Surveys of Dr. Edward Smith. By T. C. Barker, D. J. Oddy and John Yudkin THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: The Red Shirt and the Cross of Savoy: The Story of Italy's Risorgimento (1748‐1871). By George Martin THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: The Social Foundations of German Unification 1858–1871, Ideas and Institutions. By Theodore S. Hamerow THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: The Victorian Underworld. By Kellow Chesney THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: Cosmopolitanism and the National State. By Friedrich Meinecke; translated by Robert B. Kimber THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: The Administration of Imperialism: Joseph Chamberlain at the Colonial Office. By Robert V. Kubicek THE NINETEENTH CENTURY: Sir John Brunner: Radical Plutocrat, 1842–1919. By Stephen E. Koss THE TWENTIETH CENTURY: From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow. vol. 4. 1917: Year of Decision; vol. 5. 1918–1919: Victory and Aftermath. By Arthur J. Marder THE TWENTIETH CENTURY: The Russian Search for Peace February‐October 1917. By R. A. Wade THE TWENTIETH CENTURY: The Making of the Soviet State Apparatus. By Olga A. Narkiewicz THE TWENTIETH CENTURY: The Politics of Decontrol of Industry: Britain and the United States. By Susan Armitage THE TWENTIETH CENTURY: British Social Policy 1914–1939. By Bentley B. Gilbert THE TWENTIETH CENTURY: The Diplomatic Diaries of Oliver Harvey, 1937–1940. Edited by John Harey THE TWENTIETH CENTURY: American Aid to France 1938–40. By John McVickar Haight THE TWENTIETH CENTURY: The Resistance Versus Vichy. By Peter Novick THE TWENTIETH CENTURY: De Gaulle's Foreign Policy 1944–1946. By A. W. De Porte THE TWENTIETH CENTURY: Europe Since Hitler. By Walter Laqueur THE TWENTIETH CENTURY: The European Renaissance Since 1945. By Maurice Crouzet THE TWENTIETH CENTURY: France since 1918. By Herbert Tint THE TWENTIETH CENTURY: Wars, Plots and Scandals in Post‐War France. By Philip M. Williams THE TWENTIETH CENTURY: French Politicians and Elections 1951–1969. By Philip M. Williams AFRICA, ASIA AND AUSTRALASIA: A History of the Upper Guinea Coast 1545 to 1800. By Walter Rodney AFRICA, ASIA AND AUSTRALASIA: Trade and Politics on the Gold Coast 1600–1720. By Kwame Yeboa Daaku AFRICA, ASIA AND AUSTRALASIA: Province of Freedom: A History of Sierra Leone 1787–1870. By John Peterson AFRICA, ASIA AND AUSTRALASIA: West African Countries and Peoples. By James Africanus Horton with an introduction by George Shepperson AFRICA, ASIA AND AUSTRALASIA: Pre‐Colonial African Trade. Essays on Trade in Central and Eastern Africa Before 1900. Edited by Richard Gray and David Birmingham AFRICA, ASIA AND AUSTRALASIA: Colonialism in Africa 1870–1960. vol. i: The History and Politics of Colonialism 1870–1914. Edited by L. H. Gann and Peter Duignan AFRICA, ASIA AND AUSTRALASIA: Reluctant Rebellion. The 1906–1908 Disturbances in Natal. By Shula Marks AFRICA, ASIA AND AUSTRALASIA: The Administration of Nigeria: Men, Methods and Myths. By I. F. Nicolson AFRIC

Between 1830 and 1850 what it meant to be a child changed in fundamental ways across Britain’s expanding empire. This book presents a child-focused history of the period surrounding slave emancipation in the Cape colony and the British Empire. The status of children and childhood were central to discussions of the meaning of freedom in the Cape colony between 1820 and 1850. It proposes that Cape history can be reappraised by adding the category of ‘age’ to discussions of race, gender, class and colonialism. In debates regarding the shift from enslaved or coerced indigenous labour towards nominally free labour, a particular preoccupation was what this would mean for children in general, and for child labourers in particular. There was significant concern regarding who counted as a child, and the measure by which childhood could be differentiated from adulthood. This was raised primarily through debates about child labour and education, including reflections on chronological age. In this period, chronological age became a crucial marker of colonial subjecthood, and a way in which the colony’s population was managed. Drawing on diverse case studies from across the Cape colony and the British Empire, including archival material regarding apprenticeship for Khoe and formerly enslaved children, emigration and infant education, this book highlights the changing nature of childhood in the period 1820 to 1850. The book illustrates shows how children shaped, and were shaped by, both this colonial context and the changing nature of childhood across the British Empire. The ebook editions of this book are available open access under a CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 licence on bloomsburycollections.com. Open access was funded by the Bloomsbury Open Collections Library Collective.

In his recent book, Replenishing the Earth, James Belich attempts to explain the explosive growth of the Anglo-settler colonies of North America and Australasia during the period from the late eighteenth to the early twentieth centuries, commonly referred to as the long nineteenth century. Curiously, however, while both may be seen to be important, Belich does not appear to take into account either nuances of the concept of settler colonialism articulated by settler colonial scholars or the central role that colonial law and legal institutions may have played in settler revolutions of the long nineteenth century. At the same time, many legal historians, including most recently Lauren Benton (in A Search for Sovereignty) and Lisa Ford (in Settler Sovereignty), have covered many of the same colonies as Belich in efforts to explain the outcome of intensifying attempts made to assert sovereignty and legal jurisdiction over Indigenous peoples during the course of the long nineteenth century. However, the transcolonial narratives (or more ‘global stories’) offered in these studies give little attention to either Belich's account of the growth of Anglo-settler societies or the potential added insights that can be gained by taking into account some of the key ideas and arguments advanced by leading settler colonial scholars, including most notably Patrick Wolfe and Lorenzo Veracini. In the following paper, an attempt is made to encapsulate and integrate the key ideas that emerge from these different literatures into an analytical framework for guiding research aimed at explaining the dispossession of Indigenous peoples through law in the long nineteenth century and the continuing contested assertion of sovereignty and criminal law jurisdiction over Indigenous peoples in settler colonial societies today. In this effort, particular attention is given to drawing out what recent leading settler colonial scholars say and imply about settler colonialism and its legacies, including the ongoing nature of ‘deep colonizing’ through law and other means of Indigenous ‘elimination’, and the continuing attempts made by Indigenous peoples to resist and counter such eliminatory efforts.

Sámi Literature in Norwegian Language Arts Textbooks

Beginning in 1831, the earliest followers of Joseph Smith urged proselytes to relocate to a gathering place and join a holy community. The scale of this gathering widened considerably, eventually encompassing group migrations from across North America, Europe, and the Pacific to Latter-day Saint settler colonies in the American West. So widespread, sustained, and successful were these migrations that the Mormon pioneers remain recognizable historical figures in frontier tropes of the West and the nineteenth-century United States. With Ports to Posts, Fred E. Woods documents the granular, everyday experiences of the tens of thousands of Latter-day Saint immigrants who undertook long journeys to their American Zion, showing how missionaries, members, and church leaders orchestrated a logistical feat despite formidable obstacles.Woods argues that Latter-day Saints mounted a uniquely successful, divinely guided enterprise made possible by a centralized system of ecclesiastical organization in which church leaders and their appointed agents shepherded scores of converts through a highly efficient and adaptive system from global “ports” to frontier “posts.” Woods asserts that this organizational prowess, combined with the faith of emigrants who believed God was preserving them through storms, illness, and poverty, characterized the gathering as a singular achievement in American immigration history.The book is built on a deep foundation of archival sources, primarily first-person accounts from journals and letters, giving the narrative a ground-level feel and conveying the lived experience and emotional texture of the journey. Church-published periodicals like the Millennial Star and Frontier Guardian serve to reconstruct official instructions and the mindset of missionaries and administrators. Crucially, Woods supplements this internal record with a variety of external sources, including government and business records and the contemporary press, showing how third-party observers validated and learned from the Mormon system of immigration. The detailed history of the Guion Line and its agent George Ramsden, who developed a decades-long relationship with church leaders built on trust rather than formal contracts, is a key strength of the book.Woods consistently acknowledges the multinational character of the gathering. The large-scale migration of Scandinavian Latter-day Saints is a recurring theme, with specific attention given to their unique travel routes, such as passing through Hull, England, then traveling by rail to Liverpool. A letter from agent William C. Staines lamenting the difficulty of assisting women arriving in New York unable to speak English offers a glimpse into the practical challenges of this route and migrant diversity. The overall narrative, however, tends to emphasize the successful assimilation of these various groups into a unified body of “Saints.” The book focuses on their shared experiences rather than exploring any potential cultural or linguistic conflicts that may have existed within the emigrant companies.The discussion of “posts” to describe immigrant life after becoming established within their Mormon communities avoids a settler-colonial framework and instead depicts land use and encounters with Native Americans from primarily a pioneer perspective of managing threats and logistics. Woods minimizes Indigenous displacement and the broader implications of Latter-day Saint resettlement patterns, a key aspect where the book diverges from current historiographical trends. While acknowledging the international nature of the ports and the multinational character of the migrants, Woods treats “ports” as logistical and administrative hubs for Latter-day Saint emigration rather than complex sites of broader transnational commerce, labor migration, and deep cultural intermingling that might have more profoundly shaped the gathering experience itself. Keeping the focus trained on the internal happenings of Latter-day Saint navigation narrows the analysis. Historians searching for effects of globalization, industrialization, and colonization on immigration, and the entanglements of religion and missionary work, will have to reexamine the book's primary sources. Woods opts to present many sources in block quotations rather than narrate and synthesize them, a style choice that ought to serve readers searching for sources but disappoint scholars wishing for technical analysis.As a contribution to the history of Latter-day Saint migration, Ports to Posts collects decades of primary source research into a single volume, offering a detailed survey of the organizational and motivational aspects of nineteenth-century Latter-day Saint gathering. Historians interested in broader theoretical interventions, particularly those engaging with settler colonialism, global studies, or the complexities of multicultural identity within the gathering, may find the book's scope limited and its tone devotional. Specialists in Western religious history and Mormon studies who seek empirical data of this emigration system will find an invaluable paper trail. Readers keen on everyday life history will discover a thorough nuts-and-bolts chronicle of individual migrants and their travails.

Greek Tragedy or Gestation Period: Future of the Modern Church in Greece

Reviewed by: Indigenous Rights and Colonial Subjecthood: Protection and Reform in the Nineteenth-Century British Empire by Amanda Nettelbeck Ryan D. Fong (bio) Indigenous Rights and Colonial Subjecthood: Protection and Reform in the Nineteenth-Century British Empire, by Amanda Nettelbeck; pp. vii + 232. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 2019, $99.99, $29.99 paper. Although Indigenous Rights and Colonial Subjecthood: Protection and Reform in the Nineteenth-Century British Empire is the first book that Amanda Nettelbeck has published as a sole author, it builds on the extensive work that she has already done—both as editor and coauthor—on colonial law and violence, particularly within the Australasian context. Indeed, the book in many respects marks an important moment of synthesis of this previous work, as well as a broadening of its scope, in the way that it focuses on policies and discourses of “protection” that developed across the expanding British Empire over the course of the nineteenth century. In so doing, Nettelbeck covers a great deal of ground and traces how these new legal structures and norms of colonial management were established and how they were implemented in several key settings, including Australia, Aotearoa New Zealand, the Cape Colony, and Canada. To tell this story, Nettelbeck follows a few predominant threads across the book’s six chapters. First and foremost, she tracks the development of protectorate regimes in a number of colonial locations, using copious archival material to construct a narrative that is striking in both its breadth and level of detail. As she makes clear in her introduction, this is not “a history of indigenous [sic] rights as such” but rather “a history of how a discourse of indigenous rights safeguarded in law . . . became reconciled with coercive practices which worked over time to build indigenous colonial subjecthood” (5). As such, Nettelbeck moves between various colonies and the imperial metropole of London, all while marshaling a vast sweep of information to craft a thorough account of Indigenous protectionism and its eventual replacement by other schemes of colonial management. Interwoven with this primary thread, especially in the early chapters, is a careful unpacking of how these new protectionist programs for Indigenous peoples worked alongside the administration of formerly enslaved people and the increasing number of indentured laborers. In the later chapters, the thread that focuses on developments in the Australian context comes to the fore, but even this more specific discussion is given a complex treatment as Nettelbeck accounts for the differences and tensions between colonial offices across the continent, from Western Australia to New South Wales. What emerges from these interweavings is less a comparative study than a meticulous charting of multiple trajectories of legal and political development. Nettelbeck makes a convincing case that these trajectories worked collectively to establish British imperial power, even if their discursive and rhetorical framing sought to couch these policies in benevolent and humanitarian terms. She further shows that the itineraries of these trajectories were hardly uniform. In fact, one of the key takeaways from the book is just how diverse and even contradictory these policies were, especially when looking across different colonial sites and contexts. For readers new to this history, the details can sometimes be dizzying and difficult to parse, but for those more accustomed to navigating the byzantine workings of colonial bureaucracy, Nettelbeck’s book limns these complexities with both admirable care and impressive economy. As with many works that are situated firmly within settler colonial studies, Indigenous Rights and Colonial Subjecthood is less interested in providing a robust investigation of [End Page 457] Indigenous responses to these polices than it is in articulating their development and enactment by colonial administrators. Chapter 5 provides a welcome exception to this general rule in developing a framework that attends to the “strategic intimacies of Aboriginal protection,” which provides a glimpse into the affective dimensions and dynamics at work for the Indigenous peoples and communities most affected by these policies (139). In the sections on Aboriginal diplomacy, which focus on Woiwurrung leader Billibellary and Ngaiawang leader Tenberry, and on interracial marriage in Western Australia and New Zealand, Nettelbeck provides her most compelling anecdotes of Indigenous agency and negotiation. These examples contrast the overriding...

Reviewed by: The Cape Doctor in the Nineteenth Century: A Social History Liz Walker Harriet Deacon, Howard Phillips, and Elizabeth van Heyningen, eds. The Cape Doctor in the Nineteenth Century: A Social History. Clio Medica, no. 74. Wellcome Series in the History of Medicine. Amsterdam: Editions Rodopi, 2004. 318 pp. Ill. $94.00, €75.00 (cloth, 90-420-1074-6); $44.00, €35.00 (paperbound, 90-420-1064-9). The social history of medicine in South Africa is surprisingly underresearched. While the twentieth century has received some historical attention, the history of nineteenth-century medicine remains largely untold. The Cape Doctor thus makes an extremely welcome contribution to this field of scholarship—but it also speaks to key issues confronting the medical profession in contemporary South Africa. Indeed, many contributors make it clear that medical professionalization, ongoing professional boundary disputes, the role and place of traditional and alternative modalities of healing, and the economics of medicine have their roots in the very processes under scrutiny in this book. This collection is centered on a number of key arguments addressed by various contributors. Licensed doctors do constitute the major focus of enquiry, yet the contribution of other practitioners is located firmly within an understanding of the development of medicine and medical practice in the Cape. Harriet Deacon highlights the plurality and diversity of the medical market and shows that alternative (including traditional and folk) forms of healing were both well established and well utilized by settler, slave, and indigenous communities. She argues that licensed Cape doctors were threatened by "unscientific" medicine (p. 36) . They were most challenged, she suggests, by "unlicensed practitioners in the Western tradition and by apothecaries and druggists who charged for medical advice and prescribed as well as sold medicines" (p. 38). One feature of the struggle to professionalize medicine was precisely the battle to control the boundaries and professional scope of the field. Deacon and Elizabeth van Heyningen map the ways in which medical legislation and regulation were used in the establishment of a male medical elite—an elite that sought to create distance from rural colleagues and to sow division through professional distinction and practice. But professionalization, according to Deacon, was also about acquiring social status, "gentlemanly status" (p. 86), which represented respectability and specialist training. The professionalization process, which unfolded throughout the nineteenth century, was further cemented with the establishment of local medical training. Prior to the founding of a full medical school in 1920, all Cape doctors were trained abroad, mostly in Britain and Western Europe. Howard Phillips clearly demonstrates the long-lasting consequences of this. The adequacy of local training has regularly been called into question, but more important, Phillips asks if medical training has indeed been appropriate to meet local need. The debates and themes engaged in this volume are situated in relation to South Africa's wider colonial context. Elsewhere, van Heyningen has described Cape doctors as "agents of empire" after 1880,1 and this relationship is clear to [End Page 376] see. In this collection Deacon and van Heyningen point out that while Cape doctors had a close relationship with colonial states in the nineteenth century, "there were however many nuances within this relationship, and doctors cannot simply be understood as handmaidens of colonialism" (p. 133)—furthering the aims of the colonial state was not always the priority of the Cape medical profession. This volume points to the ways in which Cape doctors furthered their own "professional and personal ambitions, while simultaneously influencing the process and progress of colonisation at the Cape" (p. 135). This collection provides a wide-ranging, sophisticated, and well-crafted overview of the development of the South African doctor. Set against the backdrop of extraordinary changes in the nature and practice of Western medicine, and the impact of major economic and social transitions in South Africa, this volume makes a significant contribution to our understanding of South African medicine. Liz Walker University of Hull Footnotes 1. Elizabeth van Heyningen, "Agents of Empire: The Medical Profession in the Cape Colony, 1880-1910," Med. Hist., 1989, 30: 450-71, quotation on p. 450. Copyright © 2006 The Johns Hopkins University Press

Global Protestant Missions: Politics, Reform, and Communication, 1730s-1930s