In a previous post, Dr Katy Gibbons looked at how second-year students studying the Debating the Past module, translated Natalie Davis’s book The Return of Martin Guerre into other media: emojis, memes and poetry. Our first-year students in the Beliefs, Communities and Conflicts: Europe 1400-1750module are also set an assessment asking them to employ the imaginative use of media to explore a theme relating to their studies on the module. Below we look at two great responses to this.
Having initially thought about crocheting an item or artwork from the early modern period (!), Megan Conway decided to produce a comic. Visual formats often make it easier to take in complex information; historical comics and cartoons were what initially got Megan to be so interested in history as a child; she says might not have studied history now at university had it not been for them.
Megan Conway
There are controversies surrounding visual media as a form of education due to “ethical implications” such as how certain cultures are displayed and the bias that evolves from such. [1] To tackle this, Megan ensured that she mainly used stick figures with the flags, or clear labels, instead of defining features. The few times she drew historical people they were “cartoonised” and based on references to other modernised cartoon drawings and comic books. [2] Additionally, she avoided biased colours for example using red backgrounds as it is often used to symbolise Catholicism and orange as it symbolises Protestantism. She thus attempted to avoid any potential bias influenced by colour theory, depictions of certain countries or people.
Elliott Thomas and Jack Baker used a different approach, a podcast, quoting statistics which show that there was an estimated 23.3 million podcast listeners in the United Kingdom.[3] Podcasts are clearly an important medium in showing information, be it life advice, comedy or history.
They decided to do a podcast about colonial empires as they were an important aspect of the development of early modern Europe. More specifically, they decided on a tier list ranking a selection of colonial empires. Those empires were: Scotland, Denmark, Sweden, Russia, Spain, England/Great Britain, France and Portugal. Before setting off on research, in the group they discussed the parameters of how an empire is ranked, as naturally it can be controversial due to the sometimes-abhorrent crimes committed in their name. They decided that they should compare the empires based on: territorial extent, impact, military might and to a certain extent: legacy (mainly in the short term). They were quite strict in confining their discussions of the empires to the early modern period (c. 1450-1750)
They decided to group the empires in five tiers: The Best, good, middling, bad and the worst.
Their conclusions were surprising: instead of the stereotypical winners like the Spanish or Portuguese, France came out on top. Have a listen to their podcast and see if you agree.
[1] Annette Kuhn, ‘Memory Texts and Memory Work: Performances of Memory in and with Visual Media’, Memory Studies 3, no. 4 (27 September 2010), https://doi.org/10.1177/1750698010370034.
In this new post, first-year history student Touissant Maynard gives some great advice on studying history at Portsmouth, based on his own experience this year.
When going through the academic key stages, we are always told about the increased pressure and challenges that come with it. Now despite these warnings nothing could have prepared me for A-levels especially in those gruelling last 4 -5 months, so if you’re reading this then like me you made it through it. However, like I said moving up a key stage always provides a new challenge and uni gives you various ones both in and outside your academic studies. However, in an attempt to somewhat put your mind at ease I’ll say if you have chosen to study history at Portsmouth for the right reasons (the only reason being that you enjoy history) then I’ll say that the jump between year 13 and 1st year of university isn’t as steep when compared to the gap between GCSEs and A-levels. Especially those weeks when you discuss your A-level topics giving you a confidence boost for your seminar.
Touissant (3rd from left) at Portchester Castle with other members of the University of Portsmouth History Society.
Now hopefully by the end of the blog you would have left with some useful information on university history and have a better understanding on the new challenges you’ll face when compared to A-level.
In class the first thing you’ll notice is how different seminars are to the average high school classes we’ve been used to for 17 years. Often, we were told to remain in silence and take notes from the teacher and while that is standard procedure in a lecture, a seminar is a lot more student led. It will take confidence and preparation before-hand to master these seminars which took me a few weeks to grasp. Some of you might relish the opportunity to just sit and talk about history for two hours, especially if it’s on a topic you’re familiar with. However, coming from a stricter school in London, just talking in class like an everyday conversation was foreign to me so don’t worry if you can’t get the hand of it at first.
I mentioned before how seminars will require preparation and part of that involves the assigned reading on Moodle. As historians, the majority of your time outside university will be spent reading from primary sources to journal articles; its crucial. Short term it is a great way to help understand a particular topic and to forecast the type of discussions that will take place in your next seminar. Long – term, it will be very useful down the line when coming to assessments and make your life a lot easier when it comes to finding references.
Now for those who don’t like assessments (definitely me) you’ll be happy to hear that history at Portsmouth is 100% coursework based. Now, A-levels taught me the hard way how deadlines can creep up on you and it’s no different at university despite the constant reminders from seminar tutors. Now I’m not going to say something typical like don’t leave it till the last minute, because we all do, but I will stress getting it handed in on time because nothing will be worse than submitting a good piece of work only to be capped at 40 marks for late submission.
Ultimately, you’ll find that university is a lot shorter then you think and these 3 or 4 years will fly by especially when you notice the shorter terms. History can be quite a challenging degree and will demand a lot of attention outside the seminar room so the work you do outside arguably is more important than what you do inside. Also, try to have fun while you’re at it.
Fiona teaches the second year UoP option Underworlds: Crime, Deviance and Punishment in Britain, 1500-1900 which looks at sexual offences and attitudes in the early modern period. Her research looks at the relationship between sex and religion during the interregnum (amongst other things).
Photographs provide compelling insight into the past, but can we trust them to give an accurate depiction?[1]. Second-year UoP history student Becky Platt shows how a photograph seemingly showing an argument between a woman and a protestor during the poll tax riot in London in 1990, is shown to have a very differing story from the account of the woman in the picture. It is a great example to discuss how far we can believe a photograph to depict an event accurately. Becky originally wrote this piece for the 1st year history module Traces of the Past: Exploring Lives Through Sources.
The photo portrays a man and woman arguing with each other over a railing[2]The man appears agitated, and although we are unable to see his face, it seems he may be speaking angrily towards this woman as he is gesticulating with his free hand. What cements this is that he is being restrained by a police officer in riot gear, this gives the impression that the police officer is protecting the woman from the man. The woman is leaning forward against the railing to speak to the man, and within the context of the rest of the photo it seems as though she is arguing with him. Within the picture we can see a further two police officers standing to the side, both in riot gear. Overall, this looks to be a clash between two civilians, the man and woman, with the police officer trying to pull the man away, perhaps to protect the woman from him. However, how much should we believe this to be a true representation of what occurred on that day?
Source: James Bourne, Wikimedia Commons
To give context to this photograph we need to discuss the introduction of the incredibly unpopular poll tax, as it was known publicly[3], which eventually led to a riot in London on 31 March 1990[4]. Within government this was called the Community Charge and it was introduced in April 1989 in Scotland, with England and Wales following the next year[5]. The reason for its overwhelming unpopularity was due to everyone paying the same amount, no matter what wage you earned, and it being applied to every adult[6]. This was crippling for some people who were having to pay bills significantly higher than they had been previously[7]. A demonstration was held in London against the poll tax on 31 March 1990 with thousands of people coming out to march, and which eventually devolved into a riot[8]. In the following days the media reported on the riot with condemnation against the civilians involved in them but many suggestions have been made that following a peaceful sit-down riot police were dispatched and charged into the crowd, a provocation leading to retaliation [9][10]. The article in which the photo was included appeared in The Independent newspaper on 7 April 1990 under the title “The Mob’s Brief Rule”[11]. The use of the word mob leads readers to form a negative viewpoint on the event and the article goes on to blame the violence on “hoodlums and political extremists”[12]. Within the article this photograph is labelled “A West End shopper argues with a protester who is being taken away by the police”[13] which seemingly confirms the initial thoughts upon viewing it and readers may assume this depiction was accurate.
What is so interesting about this photo is the rebuttal from the woman in it, which gives credence to the idea that the riot police had been antagonistic. According to her account, which was published in The Independent a week later, the riot police had grabbed a young girl without provocation and were being rough with her. She states that the photograph shows the young girl’s male companion trying to get to her but being held back by the police, whilst she was attempting to convince the man to calm down due to the risk of arrest[14]. This paints a very different picture and contrasts how it is framed within the news article. It is a perfect example of how photographs can be misinterpreted despite their apparent truthfulness. The inherent danger with photography is the assumption that a photograph is an accurate representation of an event, without considering other aspects[15]. When viewing a photograph, we are seeing a snapshot of an event, but we are often missing further information regarding the circumstances and reasoning from the people captured[16], as is clearly shown when this woman refutes the initial assumption. The woman goes on to condemn the actions of the police, which gives a different perspective on the police, casting them in a bad light[17]. It is important to note that while we have received extra insight from the woman in the photo, we have not heard from the man being restrained, nor from the police officers. These perspectives could also show a different viewpoint of what occurred on this day. The photo and its rebuttal show the importance of viewing photography critically and not believing it to be fact. Nowadays, particularly with the rise of photo editing software, people understand that photos they are viewing could be falsified in some way. However, this software is relatively new, and I believe it could be overshadowing the need to be wary of assumptions that we know what is going on even with photos that we believe show an accurate image, such as those published in newspapers. The over saturation of photographs these days leads to a certain amount of carelessness when viewing photography. We are bombarded constantly with images, and we often glance and assume, with no real interrogation of what we are seeing.
This photograph is an incredible representation showing why we should not take images at face value. A photograph initially assumed to show a woman arguing with a protestor, corroborated by the labelling in the news article where it was displayed, has been shown to be a misinterpretation as stated by the woman within the photograph. It demonstrates the importance of thinking critically when viewing photography and not just glancing at a photo and assuming you understand what is being depicted. It does also lend itself to further discussion and interpretation as we are still missing perspectives, such as those of the man being restrained and the police officers. It is a fascinating case which provides such an interesting discussion with respect of the use of photography as historical sources.
[1] Derek Sayer, “The Photograph: the still image”, in History Beyond the Text: A Student’s Guide to Approaching Alternative Sources, ed. Sarah Barber and Corinna Peniston-Bird (London: Routledge, 2009), 49.
[2] Richard Smith, 31 March 1990, in “The Mob’s Brief Rule,” The Independent, April 7, 1990, 78.
[3] Danny Burns and Mark Simmons, Poll tax rebellion (Stirling: AK Press, 1992), 10.
[4] Anthony Seldon and Daniel Collings, Britain under Thatcher (London: Taylor & Francis Group, 1999), 50.
[5] Danny Burns and Mark Simmons, Poll tax rebellion (Stirling: AK Press, 1992), 10-11.
[6] Ewan Gibbs, “Historical Tradition and Community Mobilisation: Narratives of Red Clydeside in Memories of the Anti-poll Tax Movement in Scotland, 1988-1990,” Labor History 57, iss. 4 (2016): 439-62.
[7] Danny Burns and Mark Simmons, Poll tax rebellion (Stirling: AK Press, 1992), 10.
[8] Danny Burns and Mark Simmons, Poll tax rebellion (Stirling: AK Press, 1992), 87-89.
In the second-year UoP history module, Underworlds: Crime, Deviance & Punishment in Britain, 1500-1900, taught by Dr Fiona McCall and Professor Brad Beaven, students study the history of crime and punishment between 1500 and 1900. Students can take this option on a range of courses at Portsmouth, including History, Criminology and English Literature. In this blog post, based on his work for the module, second year UoP history student Edward Sainsbury discusses what can be learned from a detailed table of statistics on sentences given to criminals at the Devonshire assizes and quarter sessions courts between 1598 and 1638.
Over the course of an almost 30-year period almost 10,000 punishments were recorded in Devonshire in the early 17th century. These punishments were overseen by the Courts of Assize, which were justices appointed by the sovereign and travelled around England and Wales trying people for crimes. Also included in this source, is the Court of Quarter Sessions, which were county level courts that were typically held 4 times each year. The source meticulously catalogues each punishment from a list of 16 categories. The source, based on surviving archival records at the Devonshire Heritage Centre, was compiled by historian J.S. Cockburn as evidence for his research on court proceedings in the Western Circuit.[1] In this post, I will be analysing the source to discuss what it can tell us about executions and public punishments in the early modern period.
Detail from John Reynolds, The Triumphes of Gods Revenge Agaynst The Cryinge, & Execrable Sinne, of Willfull, & Premeditate Murther (1670)
Executions were clearly a popular punishment during this time period. During this time there were a number of ways people were executed but the use of gallows was by far the most common way to execute someone.[2] The source tells us that 620 people were sentenced to execution, this makes executions the third most popular punishment in Devon behind being granted clergy and whipping.[3] Crimes which merited a criminal to be executed were those where breaking the law was seen as an attack on the sovereign and punishable by death.[4] This led to minor crimes being punishable by death. A source depicting the percentage of crimes that resulted in execution in Sussex suggests that 94% of horse theft crime resulted in the accused being executed, while a more serious crime of murder was only 65%.[5] The number of executions over the period the source covers do not seem to change too significantly. The rate of executions in Devon would not drop significantly until the start of the civil wars.[6] The source ends in 1639 but by 1637 the rate of executions looks to be in decline.
A section from Cockburn’s table of punishments.
During the 17th century, punishments were often conducted in public spaces; it was seen as a spectacle.[7] On the source we are looking at, punishments such as execution, stocks/pillory and whipping would commonly be done in front of a live audience.[8] Visual punishments were useful as they acted as a reminder of authority within the lower classes. Public trials and punishments were an innovation that came about during the Tudor Period, these punishments were originally reserved for the upper-class as a way to show the power of the crown, but their effectiveness as both entertainment and societal control meant they were gradually used on the lower ends of social hierarchy by the end of the Tudor Period.[9]
Whippings as a form of punishment remained largely popular throughout the period. They were overwhelmingly popular for the Quarter Sessions, being the most common punishment inflicted. This could be because the Quarter Session would typically look over lesser cases. For the Assizes it is a fairly even split between whippings and executions. Public punishments often had religious motivation as well. The punished were encouraged to redeem themselves, for public executions this often meant the punished was expected to make a speech humbling the crowd and seeming accepting of death in order to be ‘reborn again in death’.[10] This gives us an idea of the role religion played in everyday life and more importantly in the legal framework of 17th century England and Wales.
Moving on to religion, a notable inclusion to the list of punishments presented, is ‘granted clergy’. This involved the accused proving to the courts that they are a member of the clergy. This could be proven by reciting a verse of the bible. The original idea was that if the accused successfully convinced the judge he was a clergyman, they would be required to be tried in the ecclesiastical courts, which were notoriously more forgiving with their punishments. By the early modern period you did not need to be in religious orders to make this plea. Crimes which would overwise condemn a man to the gallows like grand larceny and manslaughter were commonly saved with ‘benefit of clergy’.[11] The number of people who were granted clergy stayed healthy through the time period recorded in the source, which suggests this was a tried and tested method for criminals to get out of a worse punishment. This was clearly an exploited part of the legal system as many years more notably in early years like 1598 and 1609 being granted clergy was close to being the most common verdict in the courts.
The source shows us what punishments were used during the early 17th century. It gives us insight into what people experienced during this time and it gives us a specific idea of the standard practices of English and Welsh courts. From this period, we know that capital punishment was commonly used and that the executions were public spectacles, which could hint at one reason for their continued use. Religion played a significant role in the legal process. This source only applies for Devonshire but with the information it provides it could be cross referenced when looking at punishments of other counties.
[1] J.S. Cockburn, A History of the English Assizes 1558-1714, (Cambridge, 1972), 94-96
[2] Paul Griffiths, “Punishing Words: Insults and Injuries, 1525-1700,” in The Extraordinary and the Everyday in Early Modern England: Essays in Celebration of the Work of Bernard Capp, ed. Angela McShane and Garthine Walker, (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2015), 79.
[3] For certain serious offences, it was possible for criminals to be spared execution by pleading ‘Benefit of Clergy’, by proving they could read.
[4] Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison, (London: Penguin Press, 1991), 49.
[5] C.B. Herrup, The Common Peace: Participation and the Criminal Law in Seventeenth-Century England, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987), 169.
[6] J.S. Cockburn, “Criminal Proceedings,” in A History of the English Assizes 1558-1714, 93.
[7] Griffiths, “Punishing Words: Insults and Injuries, 1525-1700”, 68.
[8] Sarah Covington, “Cutting, Branding, Whipping, Burning: The Performance of Judicial Wounding in Early Modern England,” in Staging Pain, 1580-1800: Violence and Trauma in British Theater, ed. by James R. Allard and Mathew R. Martin, (Farnham: Ashgate, 2009), 95.
[9] Sharpe, “Civility, Civilizing Processes, and the End of Public Punishment in England,” 221.
[10] Katherine Royer, The English Execution Narrative, 1200-1700. (London: Taylor and Francis, 2015), 63.
[11] Sharpe, “Civility, Civilizing Processes, and the End of Public Punishment in England,” 223.
Having initially thought about crocheting an item or artwork from the early modern period (!), Megan Conway decided to produce a comic. Visual formats often make it easier to take in complex information; historical comics and cartoons were what initially got Megan to be so interested in history as a child; she says might not have studied history now at university had it not been for them.
