One of the best things about the taught MA is that, like a BA, you get to work on a number of smaller projects in the run up to the mighty dissertation (a meaty 20,000 words rather than the 10,000 at BA level). This introduces a level of variety that I, for one, really enjoy. In the last two years I’ve worked on the medieval landscapes of Ludlow and its environs; the relationship between Thomas, Lord Coningsby and the town of Leominster; a project evaluating what a small country churchyard in the south of Shropshire can reveal about the community and culture of the parish it serves; and finally, a project asking what Joyce Jeffrey’s Household Accounts could reveal about her local identity. Each of these has resulted in a document numbering around 5,000 words and each one has been great fun to research and write – the bigger word count means there’s more room to play with and to explore complex themes. Continue reading
As part of my MA dissertation I’ve been researching the case of Robert Foulkes, and I gave a paper on a part of my research at the University of Leicester’s School of History Postgraduate Conference on May 17th. The full title was ‘Every step thou makest in sin, brings thee in greater danger’: The penitential sermon of Robert Foulkes‘, and I’d like to write a little bit about that paper here.
I’ve written about Robert Foulkes before, and his affair with Ann, and the dreadful circumstances that led him to commit murder. In the paper I gave, I focused on two different theories around execution, and explored which I thought Robert Foulkes’s case might be more relevant towards. Continue reading
The last couple of weeks have been extremely busy – I’ve had two paid jobs to work on, one is very temporary (lasting only a week, but almost full time work during that week), and the other is also temporary but only 5 hours work per week over the course of about 5 weeks. Between the first two jobs I’ve spent almost an entire week on campus, and my studies have had to fit inbetween those jobs. And if I’m honest, they’ve fitted in quite well. The week-long job required me to do some survey work, which was around 15-20 minutes out of every hour. I managed to find a computer most days at uni which I could use, and the remaining 40-45 minutes out of every hour I succeeded at working – transcribing or making notes, the kind of thing where the constant stop-start doesn’t matter too much.
One of the documents I’ve been working on is called ‘An Alarme for Sinners‘. This was a long document written by a chap called Robert Foulkes during January 1679, and published after his execution on 31st January 1679. Foulkes had been found guilty of the ‘horrid murther’ (murder) of his just-born child on 15th January 1679(1), and had been sentenced to be hung. What was unusual about Foulkes is that he was a married vicar, and the child had been born to one of his parishioners, not his wife. Indeed, the relationship with his mistress (Ann Atkinson) had been subject to a lengthy court case in Herefordshire (the parish they lived in was subject to the Hereford Diocese), and Foulkes and Atkinson had celebrated their way when they thought the case was defeated, leading to pregnancy and, eventually, the scaffold. Atkinson pointed the finger squarely at Foulkes when they were arrested and she was found not guilty of the baby’s murder. Before his execution, Foulkes receved a number of visitors from the leading authorities in the Church of England; because the scandal had occurred during the Popish Plot/Titus Oates affair when the Church was still feeling under seige, the divines who visited had asked Foulkes to write a document extonerating the wider Church from all blame. An Alarme for Sinners is the result.
The copy I had saved onto my computer was made up of a series of PDFs; each double page spread being saved as one file. This, together with the problematic print and preponderance of fs instead of s made me decide to retype it – not difficult for me, as I learned to touch type years ago. In the event it took me slightly over a day and a half to type the entire thing, inbetween surveys. This is for my MA dissertation, and my research is focusing more on the relationship that Foulkes had with his parishioners as a whole, and what the case can reveal about clergy-lay relations rather than the scandalous behaviour of Foulkes and Atkinson. Still, having gone through the process of typing the document, a number of thoughts have come to mind. At least one of these is the difference by which we regard a document like this now, compared to 1679, and what the document reveals about general society and crimes in that period.
In An Alarme for Sinners Foulkes had – or so he said – a number of objectives. His primary objective was to ensure that the church was not blamed for his crimes. His pamphlet decried his actions and attempted to warn other people from following on his path. He gave thanks that his sins were discovered so that he had a chance to realise his errors before he died (and was inevitably sent to hell), and he addressed those people who he thought had done wrong (on a general level), to try to advise them on where to go right from that point on.
One thing that was very clear in Foulkes’s document was that sexual relations with prepubescent children was regarded as a horror; something very very wrong, especially when said child had been handed into one’s care. In his pamphlet, Foulkes went to some length to deny a group of accusations which said: that Akinson’s father had made Foulkes her guardian; that he had that he had used his position as her minister to persuade her that polygamy was lawful (a persuasion that today might be referred to as grooming); and finally, that he had ‘attempt and endeavour to vitiate’ Atkinson when she was nine. The accusations clearly upset Foulkes a great deal – it ‘imbittered my Cup both at my Trial and at my Sentence’. He also said that while he accepted that he was guilty of many other things, he took comfort in being innocent of both of these accusations, even though he had sins that had ‘exceeded’ them – i.e. the murder of his child. What is clear is that Foulkes’ horror of the charges, and his anxiousness to deny them, despite already being found guilty to hang for murder speak volumes about how those crimes were regarded by his contemporaries and society at large.
[While it is impossible to be sure at this remove, it has to be said that recent work by historians does support Foulkes’s claim of innocence of these charges. Foulkes was not made the incumbent of his parish until Atkinson was around ten years old, although Klein felt he first met her when she was around seven. He was certainly never made her guardian, (although he was, of course, her minister), and the two historians who have written about the case regard the affair has having begun around 1669 – when Atkinson was around 19 or 20.]
Interestingly, the document seemed to suggest that it was because Foulkes was placed in a position of trust, that the accusations were so serious. In other words; it would not have been deemed so serious if Foulkes had attacked a stranger. Did they regard the breach of trust as the more serious crime, or was the breach of trust deemed more as what we would now call ‘an aggravating factor’ in the sexual assault? Interesting questions. I have to admit that I have done no research into this topic at all; but it certainly shows, for those non historians that bewail a ‘plague of modern paedophilia‘, that social awareness of the crime existed at least as far back as 1679.
Moving now to the issue of charitableness, as promised in the title – when I first read the entire document, I reflected on how it would be regarded if an equivalent document was produced today by a man condemned to life imprisonment for the same crime – infantcide. Foulkes is clearly trying to restore his honour and the honour of the Church in this document and admits as much. Today, a document like this would be regarded with a great deal of cynicism. (Just imagine the tabloid newspaper headlines!) In 1679 there was some cynicism – Foulkes even anticipated this, as he preceded one section with: ‘For satisfaction to those who were at my Tryal, and may have their belief warpt to uncharitableness…’ and then addressed various accusations (including the ones discussed above). At the same time, Foulkes clearly believed that publishing this pamphlet would let his voice be heard. He admitted to horrible crimes, crimes that he abhorred, and even a crime that he was not charged for, a crime that he said no one else considered or felt was a crime at the time. As he pointed out, he murdered his child without baptising her first. In doing so, he ‘murther its Soul’. In 1679, as it had been for centuries, it was strongly felt by many – including Foulkes – that unbaptised children could not enter heaven (which is why midwives had long been permitted to baptise children where it was clear that a child would not live long enough to permit baptism by a clergyman, although this permission was starting to disappear by the seventeenth century (2)). By murdering his child before baptism, Foulkes ensured his child could never enter heaven. He had failed the child on two levels, as both a father, and as a minister. His sheer anguish and pain at having failed his child on both levels leaps from the page; the reader almost has to accept that he felt as he did, his misery is utterly convincing.
He did not have to write this. He was originally asked to assist the wider Church by making it clear that she played no role in his crimes – no more, no less. Foulkes made the choice to try to reach out to people, to show them where he had gone wrong, to confess where he had gone wrong (and where he had not gone wrong). In this, he succeeded in his aim of restoring his honour; he was prayed for throughout the City of London on the night before his death – a day that also marked the anniversary of the death of Charles I. (3) Public pamphlets, which widely published not only the Alarme for Sinners, but details of the crime, his sentence, and pre-execution actions, also suggest that Foulkes succeeded in restoring his honour. The final line of one reads: ‘Thus ended this unfortunate Gentleman, who by the temptations of Satan was thus brought like Holy David into the horrid sin a Adultery, but as his sin resembled his, so did his Reptentence, and we hope they are now both singing Hallelujahs in the glorious Region of Eternal joy’ – i.e. we (the publishers) hope that this chap has gone to heaven. The message here is: if he, who committed such a dreadful crime, can repent and reach Salvation … maybe we, who are guilty of much lesser crimes, can too.
And therein lies the main difference between 1679 and today, I think. Today, we – as a society, I mean – regard a document like this, and cynically ask what the author got out of it, and question it no further; any thought of repentance is dismissed with ‘well, they would say that, wouldn’t they?’. In the Early Modern society, perhaps, people were more charitable, more willing to accept that there could be multiple motivations for it, but that they are not all ultimately self-seeking and self-serving, and that perhaps repentence could be real. Perhaps, in the western society that we have today, more charitableness towards people’s motivations would not be a bad thing.
In any research project larger than, say, 8-10,000 words, from an academic article, or an undergrad dissertation, right through to a PhD thesis or monograph, have a number of required elements which need to be considered at the beginning of the research project.
I’m actually starting the research for my 20,000 word MA dissertation now. I’m in a funny position because I’ve known for some months (since early last summer) what the subject would be, and I’ve been collecting source material for it for a while – it’s researching something that has already been covered by another historian, but I’m going to be tackling the same material, with totally different questions, so it makes for an easy beginning to the project, because all I need to do is to follow the other person’s references to the source material (to begin with, at least). But only now am I actually considering the planning of it, which is quite the wrong way to do things. I was struck by this yesterday, as I drove to pick up my partner at the end of the day from the station (good thinking time that, driving), and it occurred to me that knowing the subject, and having that list of references and source material making it easy, meant that I’d not really stopped to think about really key elements that do have to be considered in any research project, and at a fairly early stage.
First up – its not enough to say, for example, that you plan to research XYZ. Anyone can say that, can say, oh, for example, that they plan to research the impact of the Queen on British Society in the twentieth century. However, attempting to research a project with only a topic like that will struggle to succeed – at least, at academic levels – partly because it’s a huge topic that would be difficult to do well in a smaller project (e.g. dissertation) and partly because it’s unlikely to undertake the critical analysis that is required at these levels. A good way to do that is to have Research Questions (caps intentional!). These serve to both limit the project so that more indepth analysis of the subject is possible, and to prod critical thought. One way to think of research questions is to think about the wider themes that the material or subject includes. So, to take the Queen again, these could be women, fashion, monarchy, society, economics, politics, political structures (there are more), then slowly narrow the themes down till at a point where its sufficiently narrow that a question can be constructed. So, going with our previous example, Research questions for this might be: Did the Queen have an ongoing impact on what society thought was socially acceptable during the period (politics, political hierarchy)? How much influence did her style of clothing have on British fashion (fashion, economics)? It is possible to see the expression of her own opinion in her Christmas broadcasts (politics)? These kinds of questions lend themselves well to further restriction and definition, such as – what’s ‘socially acceptable’? what period of British fashion are we discussing? Should we include, for analysis, the audio-visual material that is presented as part of the Christmas broadcast as well?
In addition, further elements need to be decided on. A line of argument is absolutely critical – whether a simple one, which you might have in a smaller essay – through to a much more complex piece of work, a line of argument is what keeps you focused on maintaining a tight thread all the way through. In the former example it might be that the Queen had a massive impact on British Society – but it could also be that the Queen only had a massive impact after a certain date, or before a certain date, or that she had no impact at all. Whatever your line of argument, every point, every paragraph has to contribute to that argument, even if you temporarily take another perspective to show why an alternative argument just won’t wash.
In larger projects, an extension of the line of argument is how you’re going to break it down – what chapters are you going to have, how many, how big will they be, what are their individual lines of argument, how do those individual lines contribute to the larger whole? Some academics correlate a key research question to each chapter, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be this way. In the Queen example, the book could take a chronological approach, discussing her contribution to social mores, fashion and the christmas broadcasts in first the 1950s, then the 1960s, then… you get the idea. It could also do a chapter on each – the social mores, then fashion, then the christmas broadcasts.
Needless to say, I’m not researching the Queen’s impact on British society in the twentieth Century! I’m actually examining the case of a vicar who, in the post-Restoration period, had an affair with a parishioner. His other parishioners found out, and took him to court to try to get him removed from the parish as their clergyman. There are a number of different ways in which this material can be approached, exploring different themes. In writing and thinking about this blog post, I’ve had the themes playing in my mind, and I’ve been slowly writing ideas down in a seperate file. I still don’t have all the answers, but I do have a better idea of how I’m going to take this material forward. Suddenly, my 20,000 word MA dissertation doesn’t seem quite so daunting after all!
[I think it’s important to say – I don’t claim to have all the answers when it comes to doing research. I’m still learning myself! I just enjoy the process of learning by writing: by explaining here, to some imaginary, nebulous blog reader, I’m also explaining to myself. If, however, you are interested in reading something by someone who does know what they’re doing when it comes to research, then these two books may be a good starting point:
- B. Ballenger, The Curious Researcher: A Guide to Writing Research Papers (Pearson Longman, London, 8th ed., 2014).
- M. Petre and G. Rugg The Unwritten Rules of PhD Research (Open University Press, Maidenhead, 2nd ed., 2011).
I hope they’re of use!]
I spent last week immersed in the archives in Hereford, and I had a great time while I was down there. I am lucky enough that my mother lives nearby so I at least have somewhere to crash; this makes doing this research vastly easier. I went there with three aims:
- to check out the sources for my proposed PhD subject, to ensure that there are enough sources for me to study what I plan to study, and what kind of sources there are;
- to look at (and photograph) some of the sources for my planned MA dissertation;
- to look at (and photograph) some of the sources for an article I’ve got in mind.
But before I get into that, I want to spend a little bit of time writing about Herefordshire Record Office. It’s a great place to work! They’ve recently moved into a new, purpose-built building (with a coffee machine that absolutely rocks!) that is… well. Don’t take my word for it.. !
The main working room is lovely and bright – behind me, the room extends a little bit further, and since someone there needed the blinds drawn, it has made the area around where I’m standing, holding the camera, a bit dark. But otherwise, it’s lovely – certainly more than enough natural light to take photographs without a flash on a good digital camera. The building also has good toilets, smaller meeting rooms, a display area, and best of all… a mixed reception and small area where you can sit to eat your packed lunch or sip coffee from the aforementioned machine!
Outside is just as nice, a modernist building but I think those wooden tiles are going to colour beautifully, shading to a lovely silvery colour – they’re already on their way. The archivists are so fortunate to be working there – I know other record offices around the country are really struggling with space and with their working environments, not just for themselves, but for the people that visit their offices. I wish more record offices were able to have similar working conditions – hopefully one day. But in the meantime, its to HRO’s credit that they DO have these lovely offices, and I for one will be taking as much advantage as I can!
But onto my work. I left home Wednesday morning, and after a quick pub lunch, got there early enough to fit in about 3 hour’s work. They were immensely helpful and I was able to quickly assess what kind of records they have there. More importantly, I was able to assess that the methodology that I have in mind should work too, hopefully! I won’t know for sure until I actually try it and I don’t have time for that at the moment, what with my MA studies about to kick off again. But it is good news.
Thursday I was there all day, working on the second of my three aims, copying material for my MA dissertation. This is very much linked to my PhD proposal, in that its covering similar material (the MA, of course, being much smaller than the PhD) but since the MA gives me an ‘in’, it’s a way to get used to handling material that is notorious for being difficult to read and transcribe – namely church court records & depositions. Some of what I copied was in Latin, but I was able to make out enough to work out which records out of the stack were to do with my subject, I think, so I only copied those. I came home with a phone that was almost full of data and had to upload everything to dropbox that evening, hammering my mother’s internet connection in the process!
Friday I went with my mother to Brampton Bryan. Herefordshire Victoria County History had arranged a fantastic afternoon there, with two talks, one by Professor Timothy Mawl on eighteenth century garden design in Herefordshire, and the other by Dr. Jane Bradney on the Historic Gardens at Brampton. Both really interesting talks, then we got to see the castle and grounds at Brampton, in what is now a private home, so this was a real treat. I was also fortunate enough to meet some of the people who do a lot of work on local history in Herefordshire. The day was really good, although tiring, and I slept really well that evening. Many thanks to the people who organised the day!
Saturday I was back into the archives, researching the working woman in the seventeenth century in Herefordshire. My most productive foray that afternoon seemed to be in weights and measures – these are the records of people who have been flagged up for arrest as selling items with incorrect weights or measures (a form of scam), and since there are women’s names on the list, it shows that women were working in that period. I did a lot of photographing, so after this, I need to transcribe the names and then start doing further work from there, but still, it is a starting point.
What became very clear over the last week is that I am going to be spending a lot of time in the record office over the next year or so, if not the next 4 years! It’s probably a good thing I DO like it there, and that I have access to a readily available bed. In some ways being a historian is a bit like being in the armed forces. There, the oft-quoted quote is: “long periods of boredom, punctuated by moments of sheer terror”. For historians, it’s “long periods of nose-to-the-grindstone, not seeming to achieve too much, punctuated by moments of sheer exhilaration, excitement, and joy”. I think the latter is better, personally, even if it does mean the next few weeks will see long periods of nose-to-the-grindstone…!
Archive work has changed a great deal since the second world war. Not only have record offices gathered together information in a way that is more readily available, and opened it to the general public as well as historians, the advent of things like the internet have made family history research easier than ever before, as programmes like ‘Who do you think you are?‘ demonstrate. All these tools also make life easier for the historian – they can asertain what sources are available, in what condition, before they visit the archives, and in many cases, also ascertain if there are any specific conditions attached to viewing the material before they make a long, expensive and fruitless visit. I know of at least one set of documents, for example, with very stringent conditions attached to viewing them: you have to have written permission from the owners of the documents to view the documents you wish to view before your visit. If, during your visit, you happen to see another document in the collection that is key to your research, you may not view it, but you have to return home, reapply to the owner, and get written permission to view THAT document, and then return. As you can imagine, this can get very expensive, if you have had to travel some distance to view the document. Fortunately, most documents do not have this kind of restrictions placed on them.
In addition, if you do not live near to the archives, then staying in nearby accommodation can also make the trip expensive, while you take the time to fully transcribe what you need from documents. This is why many people who do research in archives choose to photograph documents, with the idea that they can get through a lot of material relatively quickly, then go home and transcribe it on a more leisurely basis at home. The development of digital cameras has helped a great deal with this as well, and most record offices permit photography – for a fee – and with stringent rules set up surrounding the use of the resulting photographs as well as rules surrounding how photographs are taken (no flash; limitations on what you do with the material to enable photography, for example).
The development of smart phones has taken this facility a step further. Scanning apps are becoming more popular now because they enable photographs to be taken of a series of pages, and which then keep them together in one file, usually a PDF, which can then be accessed through a computer or tablet later on. This has a major advantage over photographs in that it is clearer which ‘collection’, and therefore source, an image belongs to, and you can include a photograph/scan of the documentation information to ensure that referencing is retained for the source. [Any one who has had to frantically go back through their research to find the reference for source that is a key part of their argument will tell you, fervently, how it is a mistake that you only make once.] In fact, I do much the same thing with scans of secondary source material – chapters from books, or journal articles (where they’re in print) so that I have them readily available later – and when I do this, I always ALWAYS make sure that I scan the book title, and the reverse side of that page, which contains information such as publication place, date and publisher name, and similar information for a journal. Its a good practice to get into – both in the library and in the archives.
Although I use Camscanner, there are many different scanning apps available – see here and here (iphone) for discussions of the different apps that are out there. For me, the advantage to Camscanner is that it is possible to view the actual photographs that the app takes, as well as the PDF that is created. This is particularly useful if you need to zoom in to see the finer details, or if you need to isolate the photograph from the PDF in order to send it to someone (for example, one voluntary project that I am currently working on, asks for photographs of all the primary sources that we use, so that they can be read/checked by other people). The actual photographs are in a hidden directory, so whatever file manager you use on your phone, you need to be able to set it to view hidden directories, so that you can copy them to your laptop or whatever, for further work with there.
Two provisos with this:
- If you turn the scanned file into a PDF, upload the PDF to your laptop or wherever to read, and delete the scanned file from Camscanner, this also deletes the photographs on which your PDF was built. The PDF will still be readable, but obviously, you won’t be able to view your photos if you need to zoom in closely. If there is any possibility that you need to do that zooming in, or that you’ll need the corresponding photograph, make sure you upload the photograph(s) as well to your laptop.
- This process is data hungry. I can easily fill my phone on a visit to the record office, which makes it slow and clunky till I can get the material off my phone. the PDFs aren’t too big, but if you are routinely saving the photographs as well as the PDFs, then you will need to think about storage of all these big files. Personally, I wouldn’t bother keeping photographs for articles or books that have been scanned, particularly if those books/articles are readily available in your university library.
Camscanner will allow you to either carefully scan a page, with various steps, where you can view the result at every step, or it will allow you to automate the process, and scan multiple pages very quickly (without viewing the results till the very end). This is of particular advantage when scanning a book or article quickly. With this facility I can go into my uni library with a list of book chapters/articles, and walk out an hour later, having scanned what I need and then go home and work in comfort. 🙂 I do, however, recommend that you check the resulting PDF before you walk out. The automated process means that some pages can be only half scanned (especially if its got a picture taking up half the page – the automated part of it sees the bottom line of the picture frame as the bottom of the page, for example) or pages can be scanned a bit blurred or something that makes the text unreadable. A quick moment to look through the PDF to make sure that all the relevant bits are there and readable can save a lot of frustration later – and I would suggest the same process for archive work as well. If a page isn’t legible, then just rescan it.
Smartphones can work for you in other ways as well. The internet functions can be used to check odd bits of data that you need – that date, that you can’t quite remember – or it can carry your notes. Many people swear by apps that keep notes together across devices, like Microsoft’s OneNote, or EverNote, for example (this post compares them) but there are plenty of other apps that do similar things, of different complexity (this post reviews some of them). These can be really useful for toting around large amounts of info on the go – very very useful, if, like me, you have a tablet that you can view this on while using your smartphone to scan documents. But… these apps are dependent on the internet, and if your net connection goes down, or you go somewhere that doesn’t supply wireless (my tablet is wireless only, for example), then you’re in trouble. For this reason I always take my basic, must-have info in with me on hardcopy, and take a pencil and paper with me as well, and note the sources that I have worked on, as well as the pages that I have scanned. That way, if the worst should happen and my phone goes FUBAR between the record office and home, I only have to replicate the scan, and not the search (which any research will tell you, often takes longer than the scan). In addition, those paper notes are a useful back up for referencing – they saved my bacon a few times!
Does anyone else have any other uses for making researcher’s lives easier in archives, with smartphones/tablets?
… maybe not. Not so sure that particular style is working for me – as evidenced by the lack of daily posts. There is only so much one can say about reading articles after all (I may as well post my notes), and I suspect at this point that won’t change until the second year of PhD studies.
Quite how this is going to shift, I don’t know. But it is a young blog, and blogs often take a while to find their feet, to settle down into their style. I’m not too concerned about that. Maybe a weekly post would work better. Let’s try it, for now:
Monday morning was primarily spent away from my studies, catching up with a few necessities like food shopping and so on. I still have to eat! I spent the afternoon working through a few ideas for increasing the social media use and engagement of a project that I’m going to be working on, in preparation for a meeting on friday. I started to read through an article, but had to leave to collect my partner from the station before I could finish it, unfortunately. In that respect, its a forced ending to my day – 6.15pm or so, is when I more or less have to down tools. I can’t decide whether that’s a blessing or not – I suspect it both is, and isn’t.
Tuesday… Tuesday was amazingly productive actually. Every single thing on my to-do list was crossed off, plus some additionals, making for a very positive end of the day. I finished reading, and making notes on, the article from Monday. I use the Cornell notes method at the moment, which helps a lot in terms of not only getting it straight in my head what the article is about (active, rather than passive reading), but also helps me to relate the material to my own research topic. Then I made some rough notes, starting to draw together the plan for the lit review, starting to think about how to frame and position various historians and theories with relation to my research topic.
I got quite a few emails done as well, in a veritable blizzard of productivity. Some of these I had been putting off for too long, but they got back to me fairly quickly, and they turned out to be relatively painless. I did a little housework (such as the ever-eternal washing up!) and prepared for a trip to the Record Office in Wigston, on Wednesday.
Wednesday… the planned trip to the record office. I’m doing a little voluntary work as part of the Charnwood Roots Project, where I’m researching the history of stage coaches and small carriers in parishes in the Charnwood Forest area (to the North West of Leicester). I’m well overdue in doing work on this, but I’ve been looking forward to it for a while, so … time to knuckle down. I managed to make serious inroads on the trade directories, which I think will be the main source for this project, starting from 1794 and I managed to get to 1849. It seems that although the stage coaches died fairly quickly after the introduction of the railways, the small carriers, going between the parishes and the towns, survived much longer – serving the equivalent of the rural bus network today. It will be interesting to trace the services for each parish, see how much continuity there was. I’ve already seen that with coach builders, there was a continuing trade from one particular street in Leicester, for example, although the actual business changed hands at least once. I suspect, that for parishes where the same person/family did this role for decades, they would have been seen as of key importance to the parish, like the parish clergyman or school teacher – if they weren’t disreputable in other ways. I have found evidence in local newspapers, later on (latter part of the 19th Century) that the carriers sometimes had a relationship with alcohol that was, well, lets describe it as less than healthy! Anyway, I’ve scanned/photographed the relevant pages with my phone and camscanner (more about that in another post), so what needs to be done now is a) extracting the relevant information out of the trade directories into parish format, and b) organising the photographs so that they’re ready for turning over to the wider Charnwood Roots project, ready for someone else to incorporate as part of the parish histories. So that will be a day or two’s worth work – probably starting next week.
One thing that I should really note is how good it felt to get into the record office and back into primary sources. I reflected on this in a comment on this post, by someone else who is doing a DailyPhD style blog, although in the sciences rather than the humanities like me. Stewart commented on how he got ‘far too excited’ because he was doing real science (for a change, rather than other stuff) and it immediately struck home for me, because I felt the same way in the record office. Nothing quite like the smell of a record office in the morning… (!) but in all seriousness, I think most people who work as serious historians will recognise what I mean: the excitement that comes when handling old documents, primary sources, of figuring out how to make them relate to your theory, of the implications of them… For me, however, there’s the ‘ding’ moment when you find a document or something that completes the puzzle, makes your theory work, makes you understand something that you were trying to work out… how it contributes to the ding isn’t so important, but the ‘ding’ moment is this moment of incredible clarity where the world, just a little bit, a tiny little bit, suddenly makes sense, or more sense than it did before, and I just feel on cloud nine when I get that. I don’t know whether other historians feel the same way – its not something that I think most people would feel comfortable discussing!
Anyway, back to the week’s review. Thursday, I uploaded the photographs and PDFs (of the trade directories) from my phone to my laptop, so they’re in a better format for working with next week. This was easier said than done as previously I had done this on a one-by-one basis – not suitable when you’re dealing with several hundred photos! So I had to research, investigate and download a suitable app for downloading large amounts of material, and finally found one, then had to sort them out – what with one thing and another that took most of the afternoon. I also did some final preparation for Friday’s meeting, then rounded off the day with a little reading of an edited book.
The meeting on Friday went well – that was discussing a new job that I will be doing, very part time, working as a social media officer for the Leicestershire Victoria County History project. This is something I’m looking forward to getting involved with – even did a little work on it on Friday afternoon and was very happy to see results immediately, so that’s good news. I’m also hoping to put in for another part time job doing research – it all looks good on the CV and its something I enjoy doing, so why not?
Next week: More work on the social media project, applying for that other research role, more work on Charnwood Roots, starting to pull together that Lit Review, more reading, and more research work in the record office – can’t wait for that day, at least! My mother is dropping by for a cup of tea tomorrow, on the way past, so it will be good to see her too 🙂