Investigations of a Dog

The latest early-modern edition of the Carnivalesque blog carnival is now up at Walking The Berkshires. Tim has hosted editions of just about every history related carnival and as usual he’s done a fantastic job. There are loads of fascinating posts, but my favourite has to be the one about pissing dogs in the American Revolution.

The 13th MHC is now up at The Cannon’s Mouth. In this case 13 isn’t unlucky at all as Ken has done an excellent job.

The next edition will be coming home to Investigations of a Dog on 15th May. This is a special edition with a theme of Contested Boundaries. As well as territorial disputes, we’d like to see posts about how war complicates boundaries of race, class, gender, sexuality, species etc. Above all we want to question the boundary between peace and war. If you see anything on these themes, please submit it. Or you could even write something if you feel inspired.

Submissions don’t have to be on these themes - you can still submit posts about any aspect of military history, war and armed forces. The usual limits apply: posts mainly about wars that happened after 1 January 2001 are not eligible.

E-mail submissions to fallon.young@4-lom.com or use the the submission form.

And we still need hosts for June and July - I’m not doing it two months in a row! If you’d like to try hosting please get in touch.

I’m starting to think that calling a post “Am I a proper historian now?” might have been a bad idea. It really wasn’t meant to be as self-pitying as it might have seemed, but of course text doesn’t always obey its authors intentions. There have been some interesting responses from Christopher Thompson and Oxoniensis on the problems and opportunities of pursuing academic history outside universities.

First of all I want to stress that I don’t feel inferior or excluded just because I don’t have a job in a university (or anywhere). The publication of my first article shows that I can get work published in peer reviewed academic journals as long as what I write is good enough, and that I can write pieces which are good enough. I don’t really have any problems getting speaking engagements either. I’ll be giving a paper on animals and early-modern society at the FORWARD symposium at Nottingham Trent University on 28th May. To the extent that I am excluded from things, many of these are things that people inside history departments might wish they were excluded from too: admin, meetings, petty rivalries, marking semi-literate essays etc. I’ve never really been interested in teaching, which limits the kind of jobs I can get. Concentrating on research is likely to mean a continuing cycle of short-term jobs and unemployment, but I thrive on adversity.

There are obviously some disadvantages to being independent and unemployed, and not just lack of money. I don’t have very easy access to a good academic library. Although I have graduate membership of Leeds University library, which is outstandingly good, it’s a 2 hour/£25 train journey away. Membership of the IHR gives me online access to some journals but not all the ones I need. With no ATHENS password most of the resources archived by the AHDS are off limits to me. The last two problems could be overcome by greater commitment to Open Access in the humanities. Oxoniensis suggests looking for some way of helping historians outside the academy, but a formal organisation might just shift the boundary between historians and everyone else rather than destroying it. I want resources which are currently limited to academics to be freely available to everyone, regardless of who they are or what they want to do with them.

Mercurius Rusticus responds to Oxoniensis by saying “Just let people do their own thing”. I completely agree. Self-publishing on the web, whether through blogs or other kinds of website, gives almost complete freedom (within the law of course). You don’t need anyone’s help to start a blog. You don’t need funding or qualifications or any kind of formal legitimation. You can just do it. I think this freedom is important. It would be terrible if blogs were formally peer reviewed and counted towards RAE. Instead of enthusiasm and risk the blogosphere would be full of safe but dull posts by people who didn’t really want to do it. Investigations of a Dog is my personal space where I can live under my own law and say “so I willed it”. As the Beckett paraphrase in the sub-title suggests, this is a place where I can try to fail in more interesting ways. I don’t always manage it. Sometimes I’ve embarrassed myself with an ill-considered post which could have done with more editing, and some of my posts have just been mediocre, but the possibility of getting something good makes it worth taking these risks.

Last week I posted about experiments with Python to automatically identify places mentioned in lists of horses donated to parliament’s armies in the English Civil War. The initial results were very encouraging. Using the difflib algorithm to compare a selection of places with a list of Buckinghamshire parishes gave very encouraging results. Since then I’ve scaled it up and also tried some different approaches. The results are less clear cut when comparing bigger lists, but I’ve been able to write a program which should save me a lot of time compared to the manual methods that I used during my PhD.

(more…)

Anyone with online access to War In History can now download my debut article which is about horses and the New Model Army. I haven’t got my hands on a hard copy yet, but it’s quite exciting to see it on the website. Now I just need to finish the Difficult Second Article…

1. Gavin Robinson, ‘Horse Supply and the Development of the New Model Army, 1642-1646’, War In History, 15 (April 2008), pp. 121-140.

The next MHC will be at The Cannon’s Mouth on Thursday 17th April. E-mail submissions to militaryhistorian at gmail dot com or use the submission form. Anything vaguely related to wars and armed forces before 1 January 2001 can be included.

Then we need more hosts, especially for May. I’m thinking of hosting another one myself later in the year, but preferably not May as I have too much writing to do. If you have a blog (it doesn’t have to be about military history) and you’re interested in giving it a go please get in touch.

Never mind the scary theory, here’s some empiricism. And computer programming. The piece I’m working on is an analysis of lists of horses donated to the parliamentarian army in the First Civil War. There are some figures derived from these lists in my forthcoming article in War In History and in the seminar paper that I posted in November, but I’m trying to write an article which examines them in much more detail. This article will be related to debates over allegiance and the causes of the war, which is why I’ve been trying to explore the historiography and think about theoretical issues, but the substance of it will be fairly straightforward empirical stuff with lots of numbers. That’s not to say that this kind of analysis is easy. If it was someone else might have done it all years ago. John Tincey was the first person to try it, but he only did the smallest of the three account books, which is a fraction of the size of the other two. Following his lead I decided to do all of them.

In 1999 I spent about 2 weeks in the PRO typing these lists into an Access database. I’m still using that transcript as the basis of my work now, although I’ve converted it to XML to make it more flexible and checked a selection of the entries against digital photos of the manuscript. I’ve been using the Python classes that I developed for representing uncertainty to calculate totals of horses and values. Some pages are damaged, meaning that exact totals can’t be calculated – this is something that was difficult to deal with in Access but the combination of XML and Python has enough flexibility to cope with it. Getting totals for days and months is fairly easy, but I also want to group by the social status of the donors and the counties that they came from. Before I can group by counties I need to identify place names given in the manuscript as although some entries specify a county in the address, many more give a place name without a county.

(more…)

More thoughts relating to my last post on Glenn Burgess on revisionism. I was making what might look like esoteric theoretical points there, and it might not always be immediately obvious how that applies to the existing historiography in practice. Anti-theory polemic often constructs a false dichotomy between all points of view being equally valid on the one hand and only one objective truth being valid on the other. I think things are more complicated than that. Although I reject objectivity I do think that there are many interpretations of history which are invalid for various reasons, including being internally inconsistent, not being very well supported by their own evidence, or even contradicting the laws of physics. But once we’ve dismissed all these interpretations as being impossible, we could potentially be left with many interpretations which are possible. This is where we get the theoretical issues that I wrote about before. It might not be possible, or even necessary, to choose between all these possible interpretations and choose a single correct one.

Applying this to English/British Civil War/Revolution historiography can illustrate the point, but it’s not necessarily obvious because other, more obvious, factors get in the way. For a start, many histories of this period (particularly, but not only, from Whigs and Marxists) have fallen at the first fence because they are internally inconsistent and/or not well supported by their own evidence (these are arguably the same thing, because poor evidence is an inconsistency for any empirical work but possibly irrelevant to non-empirical work). More have fallen at the second fence because other historians have produced evidence which contradicts them. Most, if not all, of the histories written from Gardiner onwards have shared certain basic empirical assumptions, so it’s perhaps surprising that these works have often not lived up to empirical standards of proof. Pointing that out should be alarming, but it might also be misleadingly comforting. Surely if everyone genuinely adhered to proper empirical standards we’d be able to find the one true story, wouldn’t we? I don’t think so. The fact that in practice so many historians have tried to argue for interpretations which are impossible doesn’t do anything to diminish the theoretical possibilities for an abundance of interpretations which can’t be dismissed as wrong but which can’t be chosen between. In practice we’re only just starting to see this.

Following Glenn Burgess’s example, I’ll take two different works and compare them: John Adamson’s The Noble Revolt and John Walter’s Understanding Popular Violence. Both books are meticulously researched to the highest standards (or at least higher than most other books I’ve seen). Their descriptions of what happened would be difficult to challenge on empirical grounds. Both relate to the causes and outbreak of the First Civil War but each has a very narrow focus rather than offering an overarching model which claims to explain everything. It is perhaps this focus that allows the authors to be so meticulous, and therefore avoid falling at the early empirical fences. This is not to say that they are less ambitious than Lawrence Stone or David Underdown (examples of historians who did attempt overarching explanatory models), just that their ambitions might be pointing in a different direction. Neither Adamson nor Walter explicitly claims to be telling the whole story. They have omitted many things and made arbitrary decisions about what to include, as any historian must when writing any history, but they have not attempted to close down other possibilities outside their chosen scope. This is not to say that they think anything goes. Within their chosen scope, both have demolished previous interpretations which now look impossible or at least highly improbable. The most important thing is that these books do not contradict each other much, if at all. It would be quite easy to see them as dealing with different parts of the same thing. Therefore we have two interpretations which differ because their focus and end points differ, but which are not mutually exclusive. However, I suspect that it would be difficult to synthesize both works into a single overarching thesis in the style of Lawrence Stone. They’re just different. Taken together they suggest that the civil war might be too big and complicated to ever be distilled into a single work. I think that this will become increasingly obvious in the future as we see more books like these.

1. John Adamson, The Noble Revolt (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2007).
2. Glenn Burgess, ‘On revisionism: an analysis of early Stuart historiography in the 1970s and 1980s’, Historical Journal, 33 (1990), pp. 609-27.
3. John Walter, Understanding Popular Violence in the English Revolution: The Colchester Plunderers (Cambridge University Press: Cambridge, 1999).

‘On Revisionism’ is an important article from 1990 (you can download it free from Historical Journal) in which Glenn Burgess sets out a fair appraisal of what revisionism is (or was) and defends it from some unfair criticisms, then makes some more sophisticated criticisms. It’s possibly unfair to beat Burgess with a stick that hadn’t been published at the time he was writing and which was (and perhaps still is) considered extremely radical, but I’d like to compare this article with the work of Keith Jenkins, and some of the theorists who inform his work, because there are some surprising similarities. Ultimately Burgess and Jenkins draw different conclusions, but they are tackling some of the same problems and at times use similar arguments. For the purposes of this post I’m not going to question empirical epistemological foundations at all, but if we accept that the past really happened, and that we can know facts about what really happened, there are still many practical and theoretical problems concerning what to do with those facts.

(more…)

And now the return of my series of posts about English/British Civil War(s)/Revolution(s) historiography. Today I’m considering Brian Manning’s The Far Left in the English Revolution. Published in 1999, this is one of the most recent examples of old-school Marxism. If you’ve read any of my previous posts on causes and allegiance you’ll know that I’m not really a fan of Marxism, but I’m trying to see the good as well as the bad. There has been some criticism of Manning’s work from Rusticus. However, I’ll always have a certain amount of respect for him simply because he’s always been prepared to offer a clear, succinct, and empirically testable definition of “revolution”. It’s surprising how unusual that is for a historian of this period.

(more…)