This book looks at how local history developed from the antiquarian county studies of the sixteenth century through the growth of ‘professional’ history in the nineteenth century, to the recent past. Concentrating on the past sixty years, it looks at the opening of archive offices, the invigorating influence of family history, the impact of adult education and other forms of lifelong learning. The book considers the debates generated by academics, including the divergence of views over local and regional issues, and the importance of standards set by the Victoria County History (VCH). Also discussed is the fragmentation of the subject. The antiquarian tradition included various subject areas that are now separate disciplines, among them industrial archaeology, name studies, family, landscape and urban history. This is an account of how local history has come to be one of the most popular and productive intellectual pastimes in our modern society.
An archaeology of lunacy examines the historic lunatic asylum from an interdisciplinary perspective, employing methods drawn from archaeology, social geography, and history to create a holistic view of the built heritage of the asylum as a distinctive building type. In the popular imagination, historic lunatic asylums were dark, monolithic, and homogenous, instruments for social confinement and punishment. This book aims to redress this historical reputation, showing how the built environment and material worlds of lunatic asylums were distinctive and idiosyncratic – and highly regional. They were also progressive spaces and proving grounds of architectural experimentation, where the reformed treatment practices known as moral management were trialled and refined. The standing remains of the nineteenth-century lunatic asylum system represent a unique opportunity to study a building-type in active transition, both materially and ideologically. When they were constructed, asylums were a composite of reform ideals, architectural materials, and innovative design approaches. An archaeological study of these institutions can offer a materially focused examination of how the buildings worked on a daily basis. This study combines critical analysis of the architecture, material remains, and historical documentary sources for lunatic asylums in England and Ireland. Students and scholars of later historical archaeology and built heritage will find the book a useful overview of this institutional site type, while historians of medicine will find the focus on interior design and architecture of use. The general public, for whom asylums frequently represent shadowy ruins or anonymous redevelopments, may be interested in learning more about the buildings.
Family history, towns, landscape and other specialisms
interest, and at how the study of towns is
now often seen as separate from local history. We shall look also at
some of the sub-disciplines which now have a separate but related existence, including landscape studies, industrialarchaeology, and placenames. The list is not exhaustive, and any split with local history is
more apparent than real. After a storm, we put down the umbrella and
go our separate ways, but that does not mean we lose contact; indeed,
the specialisms we shall be looking at in the following pages can be seen
as an enrichment of the whole process of
This book examines the impact that nostalgia has had on the Labour Party’s political development since 1951. In contrast to existing studies that have emphasised the role played by modernity, it argues that nostalgia has defined Labour’s identity and determined the party’s trajectory over time. It outlines how Labour, at both an elite and a grassroots level, has been and remains heavily influenced by a nostalgic commitment to an era of heroic male industrial working-class struggle. This commitment has hindered policy discussion, determined the form that the modernisation process has taken and shaped internal conflict and cohesion. More broadly, Labour’s emotional attachment to the past has made it difficult for the party to adjust to the socioeconomic changes that have taken place in Britain. In short, nostalgia has frequently left the party out of touch with the modern world. In this way, this book offers an assessment of Labour’s failures to adapt to the changing nature and demands of post-war Britain.
Regional Research 34
Massey, Doreen. 2001. “Living in Wythenshawe”. In The Unknown City: Contesting
Architecture and Social Space. I. Borden, J. Kerr, J. Rendell, and A. Pivaro eds.
pp. 458–476. Cambridge, MA; London: MIT Press.
May, Vanessa and Stewart Muir. 2015. “Everyday belonging and ageing: place and
generational change”. Sociological Research Online 20 (1): 8.
McKenzie, Lisa. 2015. Getting By: Estates, Class and Culture in Austerity Britain.
Bristol: Policy Press.
McNeil, Robina and Michael Nevell. 2000. A Guide to the IndustrialArchaeology of
enabled local history to
flourish in universities under the wing of its adopted discipline, economic history. The rise of a separate discipline of social history from
the 1960s was a further boost to the subject, but there was also fragmentation. Urban history turned into a separate discipline, and other
related areas developed their own areas of interest, particularly industrialarchaeology, the study of the family, and, of course, heritage.
Economic history itself was ultimately undermined by local history,
because the search for explanations of industrialisation
Dolly Pentreath, who died in 1778 and was
something of a local celebrity, is usually presented as the last
monoglot Cornish speaker.
See Hilary Orange, ‘Cornish Mining
Landscapes: Public Perceptions of IndustrialArchaeology in a
Post-Industrial Society’ (PhD thesis, Institute of
, ‘Chorlton mills and their neighbours’, IndustrialArchaeology Review,
2 (1977–8), pp. 207–9; S. Clark, ‘A note on Little Ireland’, IndustrialArchaeology,
14 (1979), pp. 36–40; A. Barry, ‘Little Ireland: a study of an Irish community
in nineteenth century Manchester’ (BA dissertation, Department of History,
Manchester Metropolitan University).
60 Manchester Courier, 19 May 1847.
61 Mervyn Busteed, ‘“The most horrible spot”? The legend of Manchester’s Little
Ireland’, Irish Studies Review, 13 (Winter 1995–96), pp. 12–20.
62 Edward Higgs, A clearer sense of the census
(2006), pp. 575–607.
Turnbull, ‘Canals, coal, and regional growth’, p. 544; Williams and Farnie, Cotton
mills, pp. 48–119; W. Holden, ‘Water supplies to steam-powered textile mills’,
IndustrialArchaeological Review, Vol. 21 (1999), pp. 41–51. See also Miller et al.
A. & G. Murray, pp. 154–5.
See, for example, A. Briggs, Age of improvement: 1783–1867 (London: Longman,
1971), p. 21; Colum and Goodall stated that the ‘steam engine … largely freed the
textile industry from the constraint imposed by the availability of water’; see G.
Colum and I.H. Goodall, Yorkshire
The factory in a garden
38 Butterfield, R. ‘The Shredded Wheat Factory at Welwyn Garden City’, IndustrialArchaeology
Review XVI:2 (Spring 1994), 196–213.
39 Bournville Reporter (August/September 1977), CB.
40 Jeff Opt, NCR archivist at Dayton History.
41 Bell Labs, ‘Come Work at Bell Labs’ and ‘Holmdel Twentieth Anniversary’.
42 Telephone conversation with Ed Eckhart, company archivist.
43 See for example Tuan, Y-F. Topophilia: A Study of Environmental Perception, Attitudes, and
Values (Englewood Cliffs, NJ, 1974).
44 For a discussion of