British Visitors Research Articles

'If I Ever Have to Go to Prison, I Hope it's a Russian Prison': British Labour, Social Democracy and Soviet Communism, 1919-25.

Through the inter-war period, the USSR became an example of 'socialism in action' that the British labour movement could both look towards and define itself against. British visitors both criticized and acclaimed aspects of the new Soviet state between 1919 and 1925, but a consistently exceptional finding was the Soviet prison. Analysing the visits and reports of British guests to Soviet prisons, the aims of this article are threefold. Using new material from the Russian archives, it demonstrates the development of an intense admiration for, and often a desire to replicate, the Soviet penal system on the part of Labour members, future Communists, and even Liberals who visited Soviet Russia. It also critically examines why, despite such admiration, the effect of Soviet penal ideas failed to significantly influence Labour Party policy in this area. Finally, placing these views within a broader framework of the British labour movement's internal tussles over the competing notions of social democracy and communism, it is argued that a failure to affect policy should not proscribe reappraisals of these notions or the Soviet-Labour Party relationship, both of which were more complex than is currently permitted in the established historiography.

Colonizing Paradise: Landscape and Empire in the British West Indies by Jefferson Dillman

Reviewed by: Colonizing Paradise: Landscape and Empire in the British West Indies by Jefferson Dillman Linda L. Sturtz Colonizing Paradise: Landscape and Empire in the British West Indies. Jefferson Dillman. Tuscaloosa, Alabama: University of Alabama Press, 2015. 264 pp. Maps, illustrations, notes, references, index. $54.95 cloth (ISBN 978-0-8173-1858-1); $54.95 electronic (ISBN 978-0-8173-8804-1). Europeans and European Americans perceived the Caribbean landscape as a locus both of seductive splendor and of horrific lawlessness. Even in Columbus's first letters depicting the "New World," the Admiral depicted the American landscape as embodying both lush beauty and monstrous wilderness, often simultaneously (p. 11). By the end of the sixteenth century, according to Jefferson Dillman, Europeans saw the New World as a location where the struggle between the virtues present in an Edenic paradise battled against the kingdom of the Devil, and their representations of its geography depicted these conflicting views. Dillman argues that the earliest Spanish descriptions of the land provided the foundation for later English perspectives. His analysis of two maps of Jamaica published in the 1670s (pp. 91-4) is particularly effective in showing how cartographic images of pirate-controlled spaces publicized the lawless Caribbean, even before the adoption of large-scale enslavement of Africans. Diverging images, of paradise and hellishness, shaped subsequent European views of the Caribbean landscape. Over time, according to Dillman, English depictions of the landscape and its significance shifted. Characteristics of bifurcated Edenic paradise and locus of horror persisted, and the latter grew during the era when English settlers turned to brutal enslavement of Africans to cultivate their fertile sugar fields in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. Added to these characterizations were new views of the landscape that encompassed a more "scientific" outlook: the cataloguing of once-unfamiliar plants in the published work of Sir Hans Sloane, the "bioprospecting" efforts of Europeans searching for exotic flora for commercially viable export crops (including medicines), and the establishment of public and private botanical gardens "that sought to create knowledge of and thus control over, a wilderness landscape" (p. 107). In Dillman's account, the Edenic landscape, once fallen, could be "recovered" through a cultivation of a "rational landscape vision" merged with "a Christian recovery narrative that placed the restoration of the West Indian wilderness to its God-given potential" (p. 107). In the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, a shift toward picturesque artistic sensibilities among British visitors and colonists introduced a vision of the landscape that made the horrors of slavery as miniscule as the depictions of the enslaved in vast panoramas that highlighted soaring mountains, lush fields, and roaring rivers. In some accounts, the enslaved became [End Page 195] part of the landscape, as when William Beckford reported that "There is something particularly picturesque and striking in a gang of negroes when employed in cutting canes upon the swelling projections of a hill" (p. 165). Dillman presents a coherent narrative of how landscapes changed in the European imagination between 1492 and the 1830s before concluding with a short "epilogue" examining the images of the Caribbean represented in late twentieth-century tourist board marketing. Sometimes the narrative seems too straightforward. Fears about the natural world persisted for longer in the minds of Europeans and Africans alike, and hurricanes shape the narratives and demarcate time among modern residents of the Caribbean. The structure of the book is a bit funnel-like, starting with a broad geography of the Caribbean that includes all of the islands and even the mainland – with Columbus's encounter with the Orinoco River as emblematic of the first encounter – and a multinational European encounter with the Americas that highlighted the Spanish in the first generation of explorers. The book's focus quickly and deliberately narrows to the Anglophone Caribbean in the second chapter and maintains this concentration throughout the rest of the book. Dillman justifies this approach by pointing out that seventeenth-century Spaniards and English Puritans "shared discourses on the New World that included the aforementioned satanic epic and the theme of spiritual gardening" and claims that "the spiritual world of the sixteenth-century English traveler to the Indies differed little from his...

Observing the Dead in Michael Field’s Ekphrastic Poetry

Observing the Dead in Michael Field’s Ekphrastic Poetry Janis McLarren Caldwell (bio) In the summer of 1891, Katharine Bradley and Edith Cooper, the pair of British women who wrote under the pseudonym Michael Field, arrived in Paris to begin their grand tour of European art. They were preparing to compose their ekphrastic volume, Sight and Song, which would “translate,” as they put it, selected European paintings into poetry.1 Having recovered from a rough crossing of the English Channel, the women set out, refreshed, to start their tour by inspecting a few corpses at the morgue. In their coauthored journal Works and Days, Edith writes, Sunday June 8th The Morgue To the morgue this morning quite early in the glowing sunshine. It has been our worship; that temple of death, to us the temple of the living God. Liberte, egalite, fraternite—true there—realised—the gray marred faces within laid brotherlike freed from the mesh of life & equal at last in their destiny—bound all these voyagers for God. I saw first an old man lying very calm—the whites of his eyes giving the appearance of spectacles—so that he looked like time lying dead in glasses—then a deeply bronzed face, full one would say of sin & experience, finally a rather kindly, commonplace fellow, gentle enough in his fixity. It is Michael’s church that little morgue & he found it quite impossible to remain after-wards in Notre Dame, amide [sic] the mumbling & the lights. God has provided for worship in the facts of life. If we will but look deep into birth & death—unflinchingly—accepting all the physical re-pulsion & read on through the letter of the indwelling mystery, we shall learn how to conduct ourselves between—under the tri-colour, & with the triune Gospel written on our hearts.2 This is a peculiar entry, even for this admittedly eccentric pair.3 Why begin an art tour with a visit to the local morgue? Perhaps they were rehearsing the old link between anatomy and art or seeking the body in its cold, gray materiality before seeking art that celebrated the human form. Maybe they were attending [End Page 189] a sort of “death” studio instead of a “life” modeling class. But the journal entry focuses both on artistic and on ethical questions, of how to regard the corpses, and finally what lessons to take away about the Fields’s own “conduct,” about how to live “between” the bare, material “facts” of birth and death. Their aesthetic adventure is grounded in a meditation on their own behavior, derived from their observations of human remains. They commit to unflinching observation under the banner of French materialism and to “reading” the text of the psyche, which they figure as a form of mystical worship. Of course, Victorian tourists had a history of visiting the Paris morgue. The morgue displayed unclaimed corpses ostensibly for purposes of identification by friends and relatives, but it drew crowds of onlookers. Featured in middle-class tour guides and essays by the likes of Frances Trollope and Charles Dickens, the morgue attracted Victorian Britons anxious to witness—and to condemn—the evidence of French decadence. Accounts by Victorian travelers typically register anxiety about the ethics of viewing dead bodies; viewers are magnetically attracted to the morgue, almost involuntarily, but wish to deny any cheap fascination with the spectacle, a motive that is usually then attributed to French observers. Thus Dickens in his account is “dragged by invisible force into the Morgue” but hurries away—he cannot bear it; the sight “costs” him.4 Similarly, in Walter Hartwright’s fictional visit to the morgue in The Woman in White, he reluctantly joins a crowd of “chattering Frenchwomen” to view Count Fosco’s body. Drawn irresistibly in amid the crowd, Hartwright reports, “for a few moments, but not for longer, I forced myself to see,” but then, painfully, he can describe “at no greater length”: “for I saw no more.”5 The French, in many British accounts, seem unequivocally to enjoy the spectacle, while the British visitor bravely overcomes his qualms only to hurry away.6 But the Fields, as they were sometimes called, seem neither shocked...

Obituary: Professor Clifford Edmund Bosworth, FBA, 1929–2015

The Maghreb Review, Vol. 42, 1, 2017 © The Maghreb Review 2017 This publication is printed on FSC Mix paper from responsible sources OBITUARY PROFESSOR CLIFFORD EDMUND BOSWORTH, FBA, 1929-2015 Professor Edmund Bosworth, Emeritus Professor of Arabic Studies at the University of Manchester, gained the affectionate nickname ‘Bozzy’ in some academic circles. It really suited him, echoing both Dickens and Boswell, for Bosworth certainly shared Boswell’s enormous energy for writing and Dickens’ fascination with all levels of society. Indeed, Edmund Bosworth was not always just interested in the grand sweep of Islamic history and high culture at the courts of caliphs and sultans. His desire to discover new facets of medieval Middle Eastern history led him to examine little-known byways of Muslim society, such as his lively and fascinating translation of a work in Arabic by alTha ‘alabi (d.1038) called The Book of Curious and Entertaining Information, or his book with the intriguing title of The medieval Islamic underworld: the Banu Sasan in Arabic society and literature. Bosworth’s enthusiasm and excitement were also aroused by travellers’ tales. He often ‘relaxed’ by writing about intrepid British visitors to the Middle East who recorded their experiences in a lively manner to an eager audience back home. Thus Bosworth published articles and a book about William Lithgow from Lanark in Scotland who travelled to Syria, Palestine, Turkey and North Africa in three major journeys and in 1632 wrote a book, describing what he called ‘the rare adventures and painful peregrinations of long nineteen years travails from Scotland, to the most famous kingdoms in Europe, Asia and Africa.’ Bosworth had a long-term fascination with Lithgow and others like him, such as Mrs Isabella Bishop, the first woman to be elected a Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society - who went to remote Luristan and Kurdistan in 1890 - and the more famous James Elroy Flecker (d. 1915). Indeed, it is significant that the very last of Bosworth’s books, published in 2012, is entitled Eastward Ho! Diplomats, Travellers and Interpreters of the Middle East and Beyond, 1600-1940. Clifford Edmund Bosworth was born in Sheffield on 29 December 1928. His father, who came from a local family, was a government clerk. Bosworth was educated at Sheffield City Grammar School, where he acquired a lasting love of hill walking, music and history. In 1947 he won an exhibition in history to St John’s College, Oxford. Before going there, he had to spend two years in the army (1947-49). When talking about this period, he said wryly that he had learned to type then, though it was only with two fingers; this would be a useful skill for his future career. His studies in Oxford (1949-1952) were a revelation to him, and he gained a first-class degree in modern history. Whilst there, he met an American student studying Arabic. Intrigued by this he started learning 82 PROFESSOR CLIFFORD EDMUND BOSWORTH, FBA, 1929-2015 the language, and, after moving to Edinburgh (1952) to take up a Civil Service post in the Department of Agriculture for Scotland, he was able to carry on studying Arabic with the help of the Professor of Arabic at the university, the Rev. Montgomery Watt. This experience resulted in his being awarded a scholarship at Edinburgh University in 1954 to do a degree in Arabic, Persian and Turkish, and for this too he was awarded a first-class degree. He was appointed Lecturer in Arabic at St Andrews University in 1956, and remained there until 1967. He wrote his doctoral thesis whilst in St Andrews and was awarded a Ph. D. at Edinburgh University in 1961. His next move was to the Chair of Arabic Studies at the University of Manchester in 1967, where he remained until his retirement in 1990. From that time until last year he continued to publish an immense amount of high-quality scholarly work with undiminished enthusiasm and passion for his subject. He was elected a Fellow of the British Academy in 1992. He much enjoyed being affiliated from 2004 as a Visiting Professor at Exeter University. Bosworth did much more than work on his own research and teaching. He laboured...

Australian Women Writers Abroad

Australian Women Writers Abroad

The English Interpreters in Dahomey, 1843–1852

ABSTRACTCommercial and diplomatic relations between Africans and Europeans in West Africa in the pre-colonial period depended on the existence of persons who had sufficient knowledge of both European and African languages to be able to act as interpreters between the parties, and such persons were more usually Africans than Europeans. This article collates biographical information on four persons who served as interpreters to successive British visitors to the kingdom of Dahomey between 1843 and 1852, including official government missions seeking to persuade the Dahomian king to cooperate in the suppression of the Atlantic slave trade. The lives of such men may be thought of as involving the ‘transcending’ of ‘boundaries’, not only in acting as brokers in contacts between Africans and Europeans, but also in themselves occupying an ambiguous liminal position between the two. In their role as interpreters, they were subject to contradictory pressures, from the Dahomian state and the various European interests involved in the negotiations, and at the same time sought to advance their own personal interests. Beyond the intrinsic interest of these biographies, this article is conceived as a methodological exploration of the possibility of extracting an African voice and perspective from mainly European sources.

Hunting the Light in the High Arctic: Interest Development Among English Tourists Aboard the Coastal Steamer Hurtigruten

This article explores the dynamics of interest as an emotion-related component of the tourism experience. The research site was the Norwegian coastal steamer Hurtigruten and the subjects were English visitors "hunting the northern light." The latter experience has become a pillar of regional tourism development over the Arctic winter. The effectiveness of Hurtigruten in attempting to trigger and sustain interest is measured through the use of questionnaires, observations, and interviews. There were two main findings. First, existing theory is extended through the characterization of interest as a form of "wanting schismogenesis," which occurs in the absence of the object of interest, namely the northern lights. Second, the use of triangulation has highlighted the importance of distinguishing between the "remembering self" and the "experiencing self" in the study of emotions. By combining observations, which capture representations of the experiencing self, with interviews and questionnaires, which capture representations of the remembering self, and deviations between these phenomena, the researchers offer a new perspective on the study of emotions in the tourism context.

‘Saved from the sordid axe’: representation and understanding of pine trees by English visitors to Italy in the eighteenth and nineteenth century

ABSTRACTPine trees were frequently depicted and celebrated by nineteenth-century English artists and travellers in Italy. This paper examines how British visitors gained knowledge of Italian trees through drawings, paintings and prints, before and during their visits to Italy. It considers knowledge of pines by late eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century authorities such as William Gilpin and John Claudius Loudon and then focuses on the representation and understanding of pines in three contrasting sites: the pines of Rome, the coastal pines of Liguria and finally the famous pine wood of Ravenna. These trees were also an important element of local agriculture and the authors combine the analysis of local land management records, paintings and travellers’ accounts to reclaim differing understandings of the role of the pine in nineteenth-century Italy.

Perfect Recluses, Great Workers, and Black Beasts: Frances Trollope’s Cincinnati Women in Domestic Manners of the Americans , 1828–1830

Perfect Recluses, Great Workers, and Black BeastsFrances Trollope’s Cincinnati Women in Domestic Manners of the Americans, 1828–1830 Anna C. Simonson (bio) On June 29, 1818, forty-five women from the Dorcas Society in Cincinnati, Ohio, gathered at the First Presbyterian Church.1 The Reverend Joshua L. Wilson, an “Old School Calvinist” who had shepherded the congregation for the previous ten of its twenty-eight years, left his ivory-handled cane resting beside his pew and stepped forward to speak: “He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord; and that which he hath given will he pay him again.”2 Looking out, the minister squinted his eyes, bringing into focus the approving faces of the women whose mission it was to improve Cincinnati morally and physically and care for the city’s indigent.3 Mrs. Kinney followed Reverend Wilson and presented the proceedings of the last six months, which included a unanimous decision to open all meetings with prayer, the collection and apportionment of garments for the poor, and regular visitations to the inmates of the nearby prison to attend to both their “temporal and spiritual wants.”4 Bonded in solidarity and equipped to do their part to better Cincinnati, the women agreed that the next session would be held on July 14 at Mrs. Howell’s residence. The assemblage adjourned with closing words from Pastor Barnes.5 Frances Trollope, an Englishwoman who sojourned in America in the late 1820s and published a book of her observations in 1832, presented “public worship, and private tea-drinkings,” of which the Dorcas Society was a part, as one of the few ways in which “all the ladies in Cincinnati” could avoid “becoming perfect recluses.”6 And Trollope’s comments on the Dorcas Society—the only female benevolent society in Cincinnati that the author mentions by name—provide but a handful of her numerous comments on women in the United States.7 Although much research has been done on Trollope’s travel [End Page 48] narrative Domestic Manners of the Americans, specifically lacking in the secondary literature is a thorough discussion of the Englishwoman’s observations of American women—a subject to which she devotes much ink.8 In her caustic criticisms of the United States, Trollope highlights many salient characteristics of early nineteenth-century women, and a full discussion of her remarks is warranted. But an analysis of Trollope’s every comment on American women is not the subject here. In addition to the gap in scholarship on Domestic Manners (dm), there yawns an equally apparent aperture on women in Cincinnati. When at the World’s Fair of 1893 the youthful Frederick Jackson Turner introduced his “frontier thesis,” it was little thought that his essay would change American historiography.9 But Turner’s argument popularized “the American West” and macadamized new avenues for historical scholarship.10 Still lacking, however, is a thorough discussion of women in Cincinnati, the “Athens of the West,” the “Queen City” of antebellum America.11 Significantly, Trollope’s two-year residence in Cincinnati, which lasted from February 1828 to March 1830 and comprises over one-third of dm, generated numerous observations of a diverse sampling of women forming one of the most extensive single primary documents on women in the Queen City during the antebellum period.12 But every source has its limits, and Trollope is no exception. For one thing, Trollope abhorred Cincinnati, with its lack of entertainments and incredible number of pigs, and remarked upon leaving that her “only regret was, that we had ever entered it.”13 Her comments on Cincinnati women, which are almost always critical and shrouded in sarcasm, are thus likely tainted by her unfavorable opinion of the city as a whole. Even Mother Nature, the first Cincinnati woman to receive comment from Trollope, did not please the opinionated English visitor. The Queen City’s tree-covered hills were “sufficiently steep and rugged to prevent their being built upon, or easily cultivated, but not sufficiently high to command from their summits a view of any considerable extent,” Trollope lamented.14 And the forest trees [were] neither large nor well grown, and so close as to be nearly...

Tolochko, Aleksei Kievskaia Rus′ i Malorossiia v XIX veke (review)

SEER, 94, 1, JANUARY 2016 176 light. In his conclusion Eddie stresses that the definition of ‘feudal’ remains contested.Manyofthereformsbetween1806and1821werenotpurely‘capitalist’ but retained variations of dependency, which underlines that ‘feudalism’ and ‘capitalism’ were not mutually exclusive. The reforms did not directly lead to a modern and industrialized Prussia, but remained ‘stubbornly interventionist and mercantilist’. The stability of the post-reform peasant economy prevented a faster pace of urbanization. Demography eventually changed this. This insight is not as new as claimed, but it is presented with a wealth of useful evidence. School of Divinity, History and Philosophy K. Friedrich University of Aberdeen Tolochko, Aleksei. Kievskaia Rus´ i Malorossiia v XIX veke. Laurus, Kyiv, 2012. 253 pp. Illustrations. Notes. Index. Price unknown. In this book the leading Ukrainian medievalist Oleksii (Aleksei) Tolochko turns his attention to the nineteenth century as the period when both Russian and Ukrainian intellectuals rediscovered the legacy of Rus´ in what they knew as ‘Little Russia’ (Malorossiia) and what we now know as central Ukraine. Tolochko had good reasons to publish his study in Russian because it analyses the formation of the Russian imperial myth of Little Russia, as well as the making of a modern Ukrainian national identity — two topics that are as controversial today as they were back then. This is not a traditional academic monograph, however. The six essays comprising the book are based on the author’s previously-published articles. Tolochko’s style is engaging and somewhat conversational, closer to transcribed public lectures than to academic writing. There is neither an introduction nor a conclusion. The book does not have a single unifyng theoretical argument, but two major themes emerge from Tolochko’s narrative. One is that, for most of the nineteenth century, the medieval state of Kyivan Rus´ was not part of the developing modern Ukrainian historical imagination. Whether they were Little Russian elites claiming noble status in the Russian Empire or Ukrainian patriots seeking to subvert Russian rule, patriotic writers emphasized the Cossack past as a legacy that determined their separate identity. It was only at the turn of the century that the historian Mykhailo Hrushevsky created for modern Ukraine what Tolochko calls a ‘long history’, by claiming Kyivan Rus´ as part of the national past. The second theme is that of Russian travellers trying to reconcile their image of the glorious Rus´ past with the reality of contemporary Little Russia. Until the mid nineteenth century, Russian travel accounts stressed Little Russia’s cultural difference from Russia proper, while claiming the region’s past as part of their own Russian identity. It was only later that the centrality of the ‘people’ for modern concepts of nationhood resulted REVIEWS 177 in the official position: that the Little Russians were part of the greater Russian nation. The essays do not follow each other in either chronological or thematic succession. Chapter four picks up the discussion of Russian travel accounts from chapter two, while chapter three deals with Ukrainian historical concepts in the eighteenth century. The latter is thus separated from the discussion of later Ukrainian historiography in chapters one, five and six. Unfortunately, there is no analysis of travel accounts by self-identified Ukrainian patriots of the 1840s, even though the book cover features Taras Shevchenko’s 1846 drawing of Askold’s Tomb in Kyiv. Nevertheless, Tolochko’s essays fit together in many ways, first of all in the author’s questioning of historiographical certainties and his search for fresh methodological lenses. Some of these new approaches stem from his familiarity with Western theories. The author begins his discussion of Russian travel accounts by talking about English visitors to Greece, who admired the ancient ruins but refused to believe that the population on the ground descended from that of classical Greece. The parallel with Russian views of Ukraine is only too clear here. Russian writers soon began constructing the image of ‘the Little Russian tribe’ as naive and childish ‘children of nature’ (p. 103), a recognizable trope much analysed in post-colonial studies. Tolochko also connects the beginnings of modern archeology in Kyiv with the first attempts to define the imperial identity in relation to national identities. In discussing Ukrainian history writing, the author...

Keeping Holocaust Education Relevant in a Changing Landscape: Seventy Years on

January 2015 marked the seventieth anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz–Birkenau by the Soviet Army. In 2014 alone, over one and a half million visitors crossed the same threshold, beneath the infamous words: Arbeit Macht Frei. Of these visitors, a majority were organised educational groups, particularly high school, college and university students. British visitors are second only to Polish in the number of visitors. Writing from the perspective of an educator within British HE, with experience of delivering Holocaust education at Auschwitz-Birkenau, the author considers the imperative for Holocaust education in the UK and at sites of history, at a time when the number of Holocaust living survivors is rapidly decreasing, yet visits to the sites of the Holocaust are at an all-time high.

Living with the Ancient Romans: Past and Present in Eighteenth-Century Encounters with Herculaneum and Pompeii

The eighteenth-century ‘discovery’ of the buried cities of Herculaneum and Pompeii revolutionised the way in which individuals thought about their relationship with the ancient world. The accounts of British visitors between 1738 and the end of the century reflect a new historical sensibility, one predicated upon the extraordinary proximity between present and past that these sites seemed to ensure. Yet this communal, cultural response to the ruins of these Roman cities does not mean that the eighteenth-century influence of Herculaneum and Pompeii was purely decorative, nostalgic or sentimental. Several individuals who encountered these excavations over the course of the eighteenth century were able to shape and develop unique political and intellectual arguments influenced by these ruins, and by the feelings of particular closeness with the past that they inspired. This article examines the work of four individuals – Camillo Paderni; Johann Joachim Winckelmann; Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, and Sir William Hamilton – all of whom used the prevailing vocabulary associated with Herculaneum and Pompeii in order to articulate individual and in several cases innovative arguments on subjects as diverse as the validity of Neapolitan Bourbon rule; the ideal of Greek art, and the history of the earth. Their ideas indicate that these excavations, in a small but significant way, helped to shape a diverse range of eighteenth-century thought.

Environmental Impacts of Tourism on a French Urban Coastal Destination: Perceptions of German and British Visitors

This study presents an evaluation of the environmental impacts of tourism on the city of Nice using two well-established marketing methods, importance–performance analysis (IPA) and the gap method. Environmental impacts are evaluated by visitors from the two main generating markets of the destination: UK and Germany. The analysis of 211 visitor surveys identified that most of the environmental attributes of the destination required management action. Using the gap method, marginal differences were found on visitors' importance and performance scores of environmental impacts. IPA revealed that most of the environmental impacts measured needed attention, irrespective of visitor nationality. The results suggest that IPA may be a more valuable destination performance assessment tool than using the gap method alone. Eleven importance and only five performance scores were evaluated significantly differently by German and British visitors. Implications for the use of IPA as a destination performance assessment tool and some environmental management strategies are suggested for Nice. Suggestions are also offered on communication strategies for the British and German markets to improve perceptions of the environmental quality of Nice.

Unfinished Revolution: The Early American Republic in a British World by Samuel W. Haynes (review)

Unfinished Revolution: The Early American Republic in a British World. By Samuel W. Haynes. (Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 2010. Pp. 378. Cloth, $29.95.)(Editors' Note: Every so often, a significant book slips through the cracks and fails to receive a timely review. This 2010 title is such a book.)Reviewed by C. Edward SkeenAs the title suggests, Samuel W. Haynes argues that the United States did not truly slip its colonial past until the mid-nineteenth century. Long after independence, Americans continued to have a conflicted love/ hate relationship with the former mother country. Great Britain was the standard in virtually all aspects of American life, as citizens consciously emulated and compared themselves with the British. It was, however, hard to escape the sometimes-contemptuous condescension of the British toward the Americans, who found it hard to admit to feelings of inferiority.In the post-War of 1812 years, American pride was affronted in several ways. British visitors often published critical writings of life in the United States. Frances Trollope and others wounded American feelings with their descriptions of crude behavior, which, truthfully, were not far off the mark. The American response was a mixture of hostility and counterclaims that the British envied the new republic's growing wealth and power. In fact, Haynes argues, it led Americans from a deep-seated sense of cultural inferiority to a bold, if self-conscious declaration of their own exceptionalism (43). A British reviewer wrote in the Edinburgh Review in 1820, asking who read an American book, watched an American play, or looked at American art or sculpture, and it aroused a firestorm of protest in the United States. Forced to admit some validity in the observation, American intellectuals responded by pointing out rising literary artists such as James Fenimore Cooper and Washington Irving.As for American theater, Haynes, in one of his most interesting chapters, relates the sad state of the American stage. Virtually all of the leading actors were British. While the audience was largely upper crust, urban laborers often expressed class antagonism by protesting against arrogant British actors and those who fawned over them. Taking their lead newspapers that cited some insult by a British actor, theater riots were fairly common in larger cities. Haynes connects these urban riots of the 1830s and 1840s to the perceived British influence over the antislavery movement. In fact, the worst riot in the antebellum era, the Astor Place riot in New York City in 1849, began as a dispute between American actor Edwin Forrest and his British rival William Charles Macready. Anti-British sentiment and the humbling of a British actor might have been the ostensible cause, but class conflict and anti-abolitionist hysteria was at the root of the riot, which killed twenty-two people.America's deep sense of inferiority was most obvious in the political arena. Anti-British sentiment seeped into virtually every aspect of American political life. Exploiting Anglophobia for political advantage was ever-present as both major parties hurled charges against the other of being a tool of the British. Henry Clay's American System, for example, was attacked as a British system in disguise. …

Every Picture Tells Some Stories: Photographic Illustrations in British Travel Accounts of Russia on the Eve of World War One

Changes in technology meant that it had by the early twentieth century become comparatively cheap and easy to reproduce photographs in books. Many travel books written by British visitors to the tsarist empire, in the years before 1914, included reproductions of photographs. These photographs were sometimes carefully selected to complement the text and present a particular image of the country. On other occasions, though, they were little more than adornments designed to increase sales. The use of photographs in travel books was sometimes designed to foster a sense of the authenticity of the written text, given that they possessed a patina of realism that could not always be achieved by words alone. Some authors, like the travel writer Stephen Graham, nevertheless found it difficult to identify two-dimensional photographs capable of capturing in visual form a nuanced (if eccentric) understanding of Russia as a place whose identity was founded on a distinctive spirituality. Nor is it clear how readers were influenced by photographic illustrations in the books they read.

Nosokomia to Sacred Infirmary: Legacy of the Knights Hospitaller and Chimbarazo Hospital in the Evolution of Hospitals from Medieval to Modern

With the onset of hostilities in early 1861, most thought the fighting would be short-lived, a few months at most. This unfounded optimism was quickly laid to rest in July with the first major battle of the American Civil War at Manassas (Bull Run), when Brigadier General PGT Beauregard’s Southern forces prevailed in a bloody conflict that would presage the carnage to come. Thousands of sick and wounded combatants poured into Richmond, the newly established Confederate capitol, from the surrounding countryside. Only a small number found their way into hospitals. One firsthand report described “the whole country . one vast hospital, . scattered throughout hotels, private houses, public halls and wherever it was possible to spread a blanket” 1 ; leading one English visitor to observe, “There was scarcely a gentleman in or about Richmond who had not from one to four patients in his house.” 2 As a result, Richmond itself resembled a vast city of improvised hospitals with little or no planning or organization to provide needed medical services and little to build on, as all 5 existing hospitals in Richmond at the start of the war were small facilities with patient capacity of only 30 to 100 beds. 3 Clearly, this would be inadequate for the future. The newly appointed surgeon general of the Confederacy, Dr Samuel Preston Moore, a native South Carolinian who had resigned his commission with the US Army when the war began, was charged with the creation of a Confederate medical department with no existing bureaucracy or infrastructure to build on and limited funds. He designated Richmond as the center for a hospital system because it was in proximity to all the fighting in the east, and was both the largest city in the region and a major transportation hub, with links to both railroads and shipping and suitable road access in all directions. This would prove a wise decision because more than 60% of the Confederate wounded would pass through Richmond hospitals during the subsequent war years. 4

'The Best Way to See Waterloo Is with Your Eyes Shut'

This article analyses how nineteenth-century British visitors of Waterloo anticipated, experienced and explained their visit of 'the field'. The article shows how British visitors attempted to claim ownership over Waterloo and to legitimise their own commemorative practices by simultaneously searching for authenticity and longing for the familiarity (and commercialisation) of the 'beaten track'. By doing so this article calls for a shift in our understanding of nineteenth-century British Waterloo tourism. The view that emphasises the succession of an early generation of authentic travellers by a later generation of 'mere' tourists is replaced by a view which sees the desire for authenticity and the need for the familiar as two forces which were continuously negotiated in creative ways by travellers throughout the whole nineteenth century.

ARCHITECTURAL ANXIETIES: DICKENS'S PICTURES FROM ITALY

Like many other British Protestant travel writers, Dickens analysed and condemned Italian Roman Catholicism. This article focuses on the discomfort, befuddlement, and indignation experienced by Protestant tourists when confronted with the paraphernalia of continental Catholicism. Deploying the idea of ‘the attraction of repulsion’, it examines how Dickens was simultaneously drawn to, and revolted by, Catholicism, attacking what he considered its superficial theatricality, empty formalism and unthinking superstition. Using theories associated with Freud, this essay considers how the attraction/repulsion of Catholicism instigated uncanny effects in British visitors, including feelings of uneasiness and bewilderment, frightening dreams, and hallucinatory reverie.

Commemoration of the Great War on the Somme: exploring personal connections

This study was undertaken at two sites on the Somme, France, one of the main battlefields of the Great War (1914–1918). It used a quantitative method and sought to explore the relative strength of two bases of personal connection (family and nation) to interests in visiting the area. The impact of attendance at a commemorative event on visitors' battlefield interests was also explored. The sample at the Thiepval memorial was dominated by British visitors and by Australians at Villers-Bretonneux. The analysis indicated that people with close family connections to the war had higher levels of interest in seeing sites of their family's war-time involvement, desire to pay their respects and historical interest. Attendance at a major national event (Anzac Day) appeared to increase national interest in people who did not have family connections.

Roma Antica, Sacra, Moderna : The Analogous Romes of the Travel Guide

The guidebook is not merely a registration of the city and its historical evolution or of the changing preferences of visitors but rather a device that selects and arranges aspects of the city—real as well as imaginary—into a coherent representation of that city. This is particularly the case in Rome, a city composed of three different entities: the ancient, the Christian, and—from the second half of the seventeenth century onward—the modern capital, each with their own monuments and histories. From the sixteenth century onward, Roman guidebooks use the categories of Roma antica, Roma sacra , and Roma moderna to define and represent these three components. In this essay, we argue that the changing application of these labels in the course of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries reflects not only the far-going physical transformation of the city during that period but also new ways of thinking about the identity of Rome. The reconfiguration of the three "Romes" in the space of the guidebook, operated by means of a continuous rearrangement of sections, illustrations, and descriptions, illustrates how successive authors and publishers attempted to fit the three well-established categories onto reality. An examination of how English visitors reacted to Rome will demonstrate how effective the categories of Roma antica, sacra , and moderna were in organizing the perception of the contemporary city and its analogs.