The commercial relations of England with Muscovy have been already investigated at various times by the author of this paper, by Professor Scott, by Dr. Gerson, in America, and lately by Miss Mildred Wretts-Smith; but the relations of Holland with Muscovy are, I believe, still little known.

If study of the university can have any place in the general history of society, it must be understood as a part of a much larger historical phenomenon, of whose vastness and complexity the university's records themselves make us aware. In the sixteenth century we are conscious of powerful currents of social change and energy upon which the universities floated with little or no power of control: a rapidly growing population, geographically and economically on the move; a burgeoning school system; urban wealth growing and changing location, but always under the massive dominance of London; an active land-market; rise in prices; and the work of governments, both national and local, concerned with education and its consequences. This is the setting of Tudor society, and only special optical devices will enable us to pick out the university and set it in the foreground. In the process some distortion is inevitable. An indication of the problems that occur in university history may be found in the view of a recent student of Tudor Cambridge who, while acknowledging that one contribution of the universities to the complex change within English society was ‘the creation of a more refined and integrated cultural and intellectual milieu’ centred upon London and the court, finds the truly significant contribution in a more informed, vigorous and tenacious local solidarity in the ‘country’. Another historian of Elizabethan England tells us that in the universities, ‘the interesting thing, as so often in English life, is the extent and intimacy of the social mixture’.

William ofLouth, Bishop of Ely, died on 25 March, 1298, and was buried on the south side of the choir of the cathedral church between two pillars near the high altar, on the spot on which a magnificent altar tomb under a canopy was set up in his memory. After the funeral, as was the custom, the prior and monks assembled in the chapter-house and chose proctors to carry the news of the bishop's death to Edward I and to the Archbishop of Canterbury.

The Order of Preachers was created under the skilled direction of two great men: Dominic of Caleruega and Jordan of Saxony. Whatever else they may have been, both were brilliant organizers; they sketched between them the most sophisticated constitutional organization known to the Middle Ages; for good or ill, they created for us the idea and technique of committee government. Both, it is clear, had tidy and lucid minds. We know that Jordan wrote excellent Latin, was capable of making plain in a few words the nature of the casting vote in general chapter, and equally capable of communicating to his friend Diana Dandalo, and to us, the inwardness of spiritual friendship and the delight of missionary work among the students of Bologna and Paris, many of whom he gathered into the Dominican Order.

When Stephen was crowned King of England, there were only six English earls: Chester, Buckingham, Surrey, Warwick, Leicester and Gloucester; whilst the King of Scots held the earldoms of Northampton and Huntingdon, which he had obtained by his marriage to the elder daughter of Earl Waltheof. Three of the six earls, it may be added, belonged to a powerful family group, for Leicester was twin-brother of the Count of Meulan, Surrey was their stepbrother and Warwick their first cousin.

THIS lecture is named for George Walter Prothero (1848–1922), historian and editor: and one excuse for giving a lecture on W. B. Yeats to an audience of historians is that Yeats actually knew Prothero. They both sat on the Academic Commttee of the Royal Society of Literature and in 1912, after a meeting of this body, Yeats wrote to Lady Gregory:

This paper analyses the phenomenon of historical reenactment of Great War battles as an effort to create what is termed ‘living history’. Thousands of people all over the world have participated in such reenactments, and their number increased significantly during the period surrounding the centenary of the outbreak of the Great War. Through a comparison with representations of war in historical writing, in museums and in the performing arts, I examine the claim of reenactors that they can enter into historical experience. I criticise this claim, and show how distant it is from those who do not claim to relive history but (more modestly) to represent it. In their search for ‘living history’, reenactors make two major errors. They strip war of its political content, and they sanitise and trivialise combat.

The eighteenth article of the Treaty of Versailles between England and France contained a provision that commissioners should be appointed on either side to draw up new arrangements of commerce between the two nations on the basis of reciprocity and of mutual convenience, and that these arrangements should be completed within the space of two years, dating from January 1, 1784. The insertion of this article had not been effected without difficulty. The views of France and England as to foreign trade were divergent. The French were what in modern language would be called free traders. Vergennes and his advisers had learnt from the physiocrats that the wealth of a country consisted not so much in the amount of gold and silver which happened to be within its borders at any particular time, as in the natural products of the country itself. The English ministers were to a great extent under the dominion of the mercantile system, which taught that the balance for or against the wealth of one country compared with another lay in the larger amount of cash which one of the countries possessed. Thus, in arranging the conditions of peace, while the French ministers wished for a fresh treaty of commerce with England, the English ministers only desired the renewal of the treaty of commerce of 1713, made at the Peace of Utrecht. This treaty, which never came into complete effect, placed France and England reciprocally on the footing of the most favoured nation, but it was deeply affected by the Methuen treaty between England and Portugal, which gave Portugal a special position towards England superior to that of any nation, how-ever favoured.

Documentary sources for studying buildings commissioned by women tend to conceal their involvement in building projects. Historians could usefully give greater attention to the formal elements of women's commissions to show how women used buildings and building projects to make statements to a wider world about their wealth, ancestry, social aspirations, taste, religious preferences and their ability to deal with directing builders, managing money and the other practical details that go with building projects. Architectural historians could benefit from an understanding of buildings that do not survive and of buildings which exist in literary works which allow some reconstruction of the spaces occupied by men and women and illuminate their domestic relations.

This article addresses the experiences of Croats and Croatia in the aftermath of the First World War, showing how the interwar Kingdom of Yugoslavia privileged the wartime sacrifice of Serbia and the Serbian army and how Croats were often depicted as the remnants of a defeated state, Austria-Hungary, and therefore less entitled to citizenship in the South Slav kingdom. It focuses on three large veteran associations: the Association of Reserve Officers and Warriors, the Union of Volunteers, and the Association of War Invalids.

This paper examines the extent to which English seamen in the later sixteenth century began to employ astronomical observations and mathematical calculations in navigation instead of relying largely on practical experience. It discusses the manuals of seamanship that were published in increasing numbers at this period and also looks at the availability of instruction in the necessary mathematics. The popularity of some texts including Waghenaer's theMariner's Mirrour, a book combining charts and sailing directions with the tables needed to use astronomical observations, are, it is suggested, an indication of the progress made in this respect by the early seventeenth century.

It tends to be assumed that Queen Elizabeth was interested in maps and globes, not least because she was frequently depicted in their vicinity. Investigation strongly suggests that this was not the case. It is argued that this did matter. By depriving her of an independent source of spatial information, it made her more dependent on her ministers and, in particular, it meant that the royal estates were not mapped before 1600, with long-term financial and possibly constitutional consequences for the crown.

Andrés Bello (1781–1865) is generally reckoned to be the foremost intellectual amongst opponents of the Spanish empire in the Americas after the Napoleonic Wars. This paper provides a synoptic account of Bello's development as a scholar, politician and statesman from his early career as a servant of the crown in colonial Caracas, through his nineteen-year exile in London, to his prominent role in the institutional design and management of the young Chilean republic. The paper traces the historiographical treatment of Bello and the application of his cosmopolitan learning to the tasks of nineteenth-century state-building. It is suggested that his trajectory reflected a successful adaptation of liberal precepts to a conservative local social setting within a world order dominated by British promotion of free trade.

On the corresponding occasion last year, I ventured to offer some remarks on the subject of medieval Welsh lawbooks, and more particularly on the editing of them. When edited, they serve as historical evidence. I therefore propose on this present occasion to consider the sort of historical evidence that they contain, and the kind of historical question that they raise. As I have to operate within the narrow compass of an hour, I must limit my field of view, and this can be done quite simply. A Welsh lawbook was made up of a series of what, in the absence of a recognized technical term, may conveniently be called ‘tractates’. I am going to consider just one of those tractates. It is, in more than one sense, the most easily distinguishable of them all. It is also the one that forms the very first part of the text of the Welsh lawbooks, coming immediately after the opening prologue. From its situation at the very beginning of the text, it should be the most inescapable document in the lawbooks—though, as Edgar Allan Poe demonstrated in a famous story, a document situated in the most obtrusive position is precisely the one that may most easily escape notice. It is quite a sizeable document, running to some twenty pages of modern print. It is extant both in medieval Latin and in medieval Welsh.

This historiographical review considers a corpus of literature which examines the spread of modern Western sport within and beyond the locus of public schools, princely playgrounds and club greens in colonial India. While locating the old historiographical problems and new social historical interpretations, a great deal of attention has been paid to foregrounding significant research areas that are less catered to in existing scholarships. As well, this review contends that the eagerness to examine colonial interventions in the sports field without tracing the conflict and negotiation between two different – pre-colonial and colonial – ideas of leisure and body cultural movements expounds an incomplete history of Western sport in modern India. While doing so, it urges a rectification of the methodology of current academic studies in which vernacular literary sources are treated as a ‘passive mediator’ merely reflecting the popular enthusiasm for sport. It concludes that this ‘reflectionist’ approach is a hindrance to research work on the diffusion of Western sports in colonial India, which recognises the emergence and development of a new sporting culture as the discursive formation that surrounded the ideological meanings and images of the literary construction of sport.

There are few subjects in our country's history which are so enshrouded in mystery as the so-called conspiracy which was designed to place Perkin Warbeck upon the English throne. It is with great diffidence that I present the following account, which I have collected from various sources, being well aware that the subject is one which has occupied and baffled many of our ablest historians.

The anticlerical violence of the Spanish Civil War has received significant scholarly attention in recent years. However, there has been relatively little focus on the iconoclasm, even though the destruction of objects was easily the most common form of anticlerical violence. Nor has the effect of iconoclastic violence on those who treasured or venerated these objects been examined. This article looks at the emotional significance of the material artefacts that came under attack during the Civil War. It argues that, while some objects were treated simply as the material of which they were made, most provoked more complex interactions. In contrast to most earlier episodes of iconoclasm, these also left a visual record, which shows how the memory of the violence was shaped not only by textual accounts but also by photographs that memorialised and aestheticised it.