The policing of Ireland was a topic that vexed politicians from the act of Union, 1800, onwards. The country was prone to disturbances ranging from that particularly Irish pastime of faction fighting to agrarian unrest. In the opinion of Robert Peel, undersecretary at Dublin Castle, the provision of law and order by the country’s ‘natural’ leaders, meaning local landowners, had broken down. However, difficulties with policing spread beyond local notables to the county constabulary. These forces were controlled by local magistrates, appointed by the grand jury and were generally considered worthless.
The situation led to an ongoing struggle between local landowners and Dublin Castle, as the central administration attempt to reform policing and the administration of justice throughout the island. The outcome of this was the eventual establishment of a centrally control nation-wide police force in 1836. The Irish Constabulary (the Royal prefix would be awarded in 1867, following the force’s efforts in suppressing the Fenian rising of that year) was formed in 1836.
The government’s efforts to centralise the RIC was in direct response to the divided nature of Irish society. While the natural leaders of local politics were predominantly Protestant, the vast bulk of the population were Roman Catholic. While we must be careful not to simplify the divisions between these communities, there were two completing political and religious camps on the island. Due to this, any decision by government or its arms, such as the police, would be scrutinised for partiality. Given the formation of the Irish Constabulary only seven years after the granting of Catholic Emancipation, by a tory government reliant on the support of O’Connell, fears of centralised (political) policing were rife. Indeed such centralised policing was contrary to British ideas of liberty; the ideal was a non-military, regional police force whose control was in local hands. The RIC had more in common with European models of policing than British. Indeed, its intelligence gathering activities were more akin to policing in Indian than Britain.
By having a centralised police force throughout most of the island (the Dublin Metropolitan Police (DMP) was responsible for policing in Dublin) the Irish administration at Dublin Castle sought to ensure that police actions did not incite conflict. Hence, fears of political policing were in a manner well founded. Thus, it was Ireland’s well-known uniqueness in terms of political and social unrest that convinced the government of the need for a centralised and ‘politically’ controlled police force. This was to have long-term impacts on the structure of policing in Ireland, leading to a high level of correspondence. The police force was to become a sort of unofficial civil service. It was to compile statistics on a range of subjects, ranging from farming outputs to surveillance. However, this centralisation also removed the freedom of action of local commanders, leading, in many cases, to the most mundane decisions being taken at high levels of the force’s command structure.
Galen Broeker, Rural disorder and police reform in Ireland, 1812-36 (London & Toronto, 1970).
Stanley H. Palmer, Police and protest in England and Ireland, 1790-1850 (Cambridge, 1990).
Margaret O’Callaghan, ‘New ways of looking at the state apparatus and the state archive in nineteenth-century Ireland “curiosities from that phonetic museum”: Royal Irish Constabulary reports and their political uses, 1879-91’ in Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy. Section C: Archaeology, Celtic Studies, History, Linguistics, Literature, civ, C, no. 2 (2004), pp 37-56.
Adrian James Kirwan, co-editor of Holinshed Revisited, is an Irish Research Council funded Ph.D. candidate at the Department of History, National University of Ireland, Maynooth. His research focuses on the interaction between society and technology, more about his research can be found here.
Thomas Grubb was born to the Quakers William Grubb and his wife Eleanor (née Fayle) in 1800. Around 1832 Grubb established a mechanical engineering workshop in Dublin and began constructing modest reflector telescopes for his own use. Through his interest in astronomy he began undertaking various commissions for the erection and construction of telescopes, including a fifteen-inch reflector for the Armagh observatory. In order to mount this large telescope Grubb designed a system of triangle levers to reduce stress on the mirror. A similar system was employed by William Parsons, third earl of Rosse, in the construction of his six-foot reflector, ‘the leviathan’, at Birr Castle in the 1840s. In this early period Grubb’s work was primarily funded by private individuals.
These commissions soon brought him to the attention of scientific figures throughout the United Kingdom, and he was hired to construct telescopes for the Royal Observatory, Greenwich, and the University of Glasgow. He also fabricated twenty sets of magnetometers for Professor Humphrey Lloyd’s (Trinity College, Dublin) efforts to establish a network of magnetic observatories throughout the British Empire. These were to further scientific understanding of geo-magnetism and, eventually, thirty-three observatories were set-up throughout the world on the same model as the magnetic observatory based in Trinity College, Dublin.
A great deal of this research was not driven by ‘pure’ scientific interest. The British state, as a maritime nation, was strongly motivated to fund astronomy and the production of star charts. In fact, George Airy, Astronomer Royal, saw the main tasks of the Royal Observatory, Greenwich, as producing accurate stellar and planetary maps and the regulation of ships chronometers, all essential for navigation. Thus, the successful trajectory of Grubb’s business was, in many ways, firmly tied to wider British Imperial and trading interests. As the nineteenth century progressed the British state was to begin funding ‘pure’ research to a greater extend and this was to provide Grubb with much work.
It was the success of the Rosse telescope, which had gone someway to answering the question of the resolvability of nebulae, that was to prompt calls for a similar telescope to be erected in the southern hemisphere. This was realised in 1869 when a four-foot Grubb reflector was installed in Melbourne. Unfortunately, this telescope was to be a resounding failure, probably due to the inability of staff in Melbourne to polish the mirrors (these had been made using polished metal instead of the silver-on-glass method that was becoming popular). Thomas Grubb was to die in 1878 but the company was to remain in operation under the guidance of his son, Howard, who had taken control in 1868.
Howard Grubb was to remain in charge for fifty-seven years and in this time constructed most of the large telescopes erected across Britain and its empire, including five for the Royal Observatory. In addition, the company also constructed telescopes for a number of others, including a twenty-seven-inch reflector for the University of Vienna, 1881. In this period the majority of Howard’s large instruments were refractors. In the closing years of the nineteenth century the company also began making photographic instruments for astronomical observations. The previous system of human observers sketching their observations had been open to error and encountered difficulties when attempting to draw large and detailed star charts. In 1890 the company delivered seven, of thirteen, such instruments that were used as part of the Carte du ciel (map of the sky) project, the rest were constructed by the Henry brothers of France. (It was on one of these Grubb telescopes that Arthur Eddington was to show the distortion of a star’s position when its light passed near the sun, thus providing the first proof of Einstein’s theory of relativity).
In the twentieth century the company was to put its optical expertise to military use, designing rangefinders, gunsights and the first submarine periscope. This was to tie the fortunes of the company to the state in an even more obvious manner. Due to its increased importance to the war effort, the company transferred to the south of England in 1918. This move was to prove decisive and, with the end of the First World War, Grubb was unable to meet increasing costs. The firm was sold to Charles Parson, the youngest son of the third earl of Rosse, in 1925 and the new firm, ‘Sir Howard Grubb, Parsons and Co.’ was to continue in operation until 1985.
Ian Elliott, ‘Grubbs of Dublin: telescope makers to the world’ in Juliana Adelman and Éadaoin Agnew (eds), Science and technology in nineteenth-century Ireland (Dublin, 2011), pp 47-62.
Anita McConnell, ‘Scientific instrument makers’ in Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (Oxford, 2015), available at (www.oxforddnb.com) (19 Mar. 2016).
John Burnett, ‘Grubb, Thomas, engineer and telescope builder’ in Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (Oxford, 2015), available at (www.oxforddnb.com) (19 Mar. 2016).
Adrian James Kirwan, co-editor of Holinshed Revisited, is an Irish Research Council funded Ph.D. candidate at the Department of History, National University of Ireland, Maynooth. His research focuses on the interaction between society and technology, more about his research can be found here.
The recently approved €300 million transatlantic fibre optic cable to connect Mayo and New York will now doubt provide an important communication link between the US and not just Ireland but also the rest of Europe. While there is always an element of risk with such infrastructural projects, this one can build on a history of transatlantic telecommunications technologies going back to the mid-nineteenth century. The first attempt to construct a telegraph cable across the Atlantic Ocean was to take place between 1857-8. Given the fact that the first submarine telegraph cable had been laid only seven years before, between Britain and France, the scale of ambition must have been obvious to contemporaries.
However the story of this first cable attempt started much earlier. In 1854 the American financier Cyrus Field backed the construction of a telegraph line that would connect St. John’s, Newfoundland, to the rest of North America’s telegraph network; this line would be completed in 1856. As the distance from here to the British Isles was c. 1,000 miles shorter than from New York, the new cable could seriously impact on the time taken to transmit intelligence across the Atlantic and shorten the length, and hence expense, of any such cable. Such a crossing would benefit from a natural deep-sea plateau, which would mean that the cable would not have to descend too deep, and, unbeknown at the time, would protect the cable from the mid-Atlantic ridge.
In 1856 Field reached an agreement with John Watkins Brett (who had be responsible for the laying of some of the early telegraph submarine cables) and Charles Bright (the chief engineer of the British and Irish Magnetic Telegraph Company (B&I MTC)) to form the Atlantic Telegraph Company. A high proportion of the company’s shares were bought by directors of the B&I MTC, the chairman of which was Charles’s brother Edward Bright.
The first order of business for the new company was to secure some type of funding from the government. Despite the prevailing laissez-faire ideology, trade with North America was significant and the development of a rapid means of communication would no doubt be of benefit to the British economy. Due to this reason the government agreed to provide ships and the expertise needed to take soundings of the ocean floor, lay the cable and, most importantly, it agreed to subsidise the company’s operations up to the sum of £14,000 for as long as the cable was operational.
The cable having been constructed by the Gutta Percha Company was sent to Glass, Elliot & Co. and R.S. Newall & Co. for the addition of armour (this involved the wrapping of metal wire around the cable to protect it from damage by the ocean floor or anchors of ships). In 1857 this cable was loaded on the British government-supplied HMS Agamemnon and the US government-supplied USS Niagara. The presence of these two ships highlighted that the success of the cable was very much in the interests of both governments and that both were willingly to intervene in private enterprise when it was deemed necessary for the welfare of the state.
Unfortunately the 1857 attempt failed due to technical difficulties, the apparatus for feeding the cable over the edge of the ship failed. The following year however a second, successful, attempt was made. Much fanfare greeted the successful laying of the cable and telegrams were exchanged between Queen Victoria and President James Buchanan. However, within a short period of time it was obvious that the cable was not operating effectively and it was to fail completely in October 1858.
It failure was to be a turning point in the development of telegraphic technology. While prior to this telegraph engineers and electricians were primarily responsible for the design and construction of cable and apparatus, the failure and momentous expense of the transatlantic cable lead to the establishment of a parliamentary committee in Britain. This in turn called upon the expertise of many in the scientific communication, including the future Lord Kelvin, William Thomson. The effect of this was to put telegraphy on a much more scientific footing. Thus, while debates between engineers, who viewed electricity on a similar manner to fluid in a tube, and scientists who wanted to establish themselves as the experts on these technologies were to continue, the failure of this cable helped the scientists to promote their position as the dominant force in the development of electrical technologies.
Anton A. Huurdeman, The Worldwide History of Telecommunications (New York, 2003).
Adrian James Kirwan, co-editor of Holinshed Revisited, is an Irish Research Council funded Ph.D. candidate at the Department of History, National University of Ireland, Maynooth. His research focuses on the interaction between society and technology, more about his research can be found here.
Conference review: the British Society for the History of Science, Swansea University, 2-5 July 2015
The conference was, as usual, a highly enjoyable mix of academic sessions, roundtables and keynotes; with a bit of time reserved for some socialising. The conference was opened by Prof. Iwan Morus on the British Association for the Advancement of Science’s meeting at Swansea in 1848. The first full day of the conference, 2 July, was packed with sessions, with five parallel panels running at simultaneously. These ranged from early-modern science to Darwinism to the development of hearing technologies by the twentieth -century British Post Office. The day was finished with the awarding of two of the societies prizes the John Pickstone prize 2014 for best scholarly book (awarded to Graeme Gooday and Stathis Arapostathis, Patently contestable: electrical technologies and inventor identities on trial in Britain (Cambridge, 2013)) and the Dingle prize for the best book on history of science accessible to a wide audience. The Dingle prize was awarded to Martin J.S. Rudwick, Earth’s deep history: how it was discovered and why it matters (Chicago & London, 2014). Rudwick’s acceptance speak was a masterclass in the public lecture. He masterfully brought the audience through the evolution of thinking on the age of the earth and the significant impacts this deepening timeframe had on our understanding of not just the earth but also of man’s existence on it and theology. If the book is half as good as the lecture it promises to be well worth the read not just for those with an interest in the history of science but anyone who wants to understand how the natural sciences impacted upon society.
The second full day of the conference brought a plethora of excellent panels on the history of science, technology and medicine. The day included a panel on Science and Religion. This contained perhaps one of the top papers at the conference, Bill Jenkins (University of Edinburgh), ‘Evangelicals and extra-terrestrials: the plurality of worlds debate in Scotland, 1815-55.’ This paper trace the impact of astronomic discovers on Scottish Evangelicals who set out to deal with the possibility of life on other worlds. These evangelicals not only accepted that life existed on other worlds but also engaged in a series of discussions that sought to understand the nature of salvation in an extra-terrestrial context. The paper also explained how these figures combined science and teleology to justify their beliefs.
Perhaps the best panel of the conference was one entitled, ‘the travelling rat, 1850-1950’ which traced the interaction and co-existence of man and his travelling companion, the rat. One very good paper on the co-existences of man and rat, by Kaori Nagai (University of Kent), look at rats as passengers on nineteenth-century ships. The paper highlighted that while rats were considered a problem, they had to be managed rather than destroyed. For example, to stop rats eating into water butts the crew had to ensure that the ships complement of rats were well watered. The highlight of the session was Neil Pemberton’s (University of Manchester) ‘From foreign invader to subterranean fiend: sewer rats, sanitary modernity and Victorian underworlds’. This highly informative and enjoyable paper highlighted the fact that rats enjoyed a status as eaters of waste in sewers and, hence, were deemed important to public health. The paper also looked at the complex relationship between man and rat once it surfaced out of the sewer. By using contemporaneous accounts of rat catchers the paper demonstrated that the relationship between man and rat in the Victorian period was much more complicated than we assume.
The conference reached a crescendo with the Presidential keynote by Greg Radick (University of Leeds). This was based on some fascinating work using the history of biology to produce a genetics course that removes the concentration on Mendel’s famous experiments with peas and inheritance. This allows the student to learn the importance that other factors, such as environment, play, alongside genes, in human development.
Further information on the British Society for the History of Science can be found at its website: http://www.bshs.org.
For more information or to purchase Martin J.S. Rudwick’s Earth’s deep history: how it was discovered and why it matters (Chicago & London, 2014) go to: http://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/E/bo19211655.html
This year is the 800th anniversary of King John’s signing of the Magna Carta or ‘Great Charter’ of 1215. It was famously agreed to by King John of England at Runnymeade to avoid a battle with his rebellious nobles. In the document the king gave certain guarantees; the principal ones being protection for the barons from illegal imprisonment, access to justice and restrictions on payments due to the crown. While the document was annulled within a short period by Pope Innocent III, it was reissued in various forms by subsequent monarchs and has become a symbol of Citizen’s rights throughout the world.
The British Library is currently housing an impressive exhibition detailing the history of the Magna Carta. The exhibition using historical texts and audio-visual displays is quite successful at explaining the origins of the document to the visitor. In doing so it highlights the evolving relationship not only between the monarch and his most important nobles, but also their relationship to the pope and his role as a legitimising force within the hierarchical structure of the kingdom. Using various historical texts from the British Library’s extensive collections the exhibition traces the life of King John and shows contemporary perceptions of the charter.
The changing perception of the charter and what it signifies is an important element of the Magna Carta’s history. While originally a very short-lived document that sought to protect the rights of a few high-level nobles, it has been transformed over many centuries to a foundational document of human rights. The exhibition makes great efforts to highlight not only the origins of the charter but also the evolution of its various reincarnations. Great effort has been made to demonstrate its impact on the shaping of the modern world, the charter being view as one of the most significant documents in the development of citizens’ rights and the social contract. Thus, demonstrating that what we would consider to be the inalienable rights of the citizen, such as habeas corpus, were developed over a significant period of time, with individuals often using Magna Carta, however erroneously, in support of these rights.
On display is a fabulous range of texts displaying the contemporary and subsequent importance of this historical document. Most significant of these on display are two of the four surviving copies of the origin document.
The British Library’s website has extensive resources for those who want to find out more about the document and its history, this is available at: http://www.bl.uk/magna-carta?ns_campaign=treasures&ns_mchannel=ppc&ns_source=google&ns_linkname=Magna%20carta%20british%20library&ns_fee=0
By Adrian James Kirwan
For anyone interested in Dublin city and its history this book will provide much enjoyment to both those familiar and unfamiliar with the city’s history. The book begins with an introductory chapter which provides an overview of the ordnance survey of Dublin and the social and economic context of the city’s development up to 1847. The blending of these two topics is testimony to Dr Cullen’s knowledge of both.
The rest of the book, taking the ordnance survey (O.S.) five-foot to one mile maps (1847) as its basis, is divided into forty-five sections. These focus on selected areas of the mid-nineteenth century city. Each contains the relevant extract from the five-foot O.S. map and some have one to two contemporaneous images of the area, street, square (or prominent buildings within the selected area). In addition, each section contains an accompanying text that elucidates the readers as to how and why the topographical developments on the map took place. While readers will no doubt find the map extracts and accompanying images of interest, it is the text which is the real brilliance of this work. These short –never over a page- overviews of sections of the nineteenth-century city are insightful and well written. The research and understanding of the city that this work is a product of is well hidden behind easy to read and enthralling prose. The real appeal of this book is that, due to each section being self-contained, the reader can take up the book and read at their leisure, as an individual section only takes a few minutes to read. In the same instance, the combined work provides a good introduction to the historical development of Dublin’s topography as it stood in 1847.
For example, section 13, Sackville Street, gives an overview of the development of this street as part of the work of the wide street commissioners and highlights its gradual transformation of the street from a residential to retailing district. Another get section is number 2, Blue Coat Hospital and Smithfield, which gives the reader an introduction to two Dublin institutions that have sadly disappeared since.
This is a must read for anyone with an interest in Dublin and its historical development. The easy to access book makes it very appealing to those who wish to learn about the city without having to engage with a substantial history of the city, as well as those with a particular interest in the cities topographical development.
This book is an ancillary publication of the Irish Historic Towns Atlas project and was launched in conjunction with the IHTA’s Dublin, part III, 1756 to 1847 (Dublin, 2014) by Rob Goodbody. As the atlas stops its investigation of the city’s topographical development with the ordnance survey of 1847 this accompanying publication of the city in that year is a welcome addition, providing as it does a boarder contextualisation of the topographical information contained in the atlas.
This book and indeed the entire range of IHTA publications can be purchase at: http://ria.ie/research/ihta/publications.aspx
Conference review: Irish Towns as shared European heritage, Irish Historic Towns Atlas seminar, 22 May 2015
The Irish Historic Towns Atlas (IHTA) is a project of the Royal Irish Academy. It was been producing historical atlases of Irish towns since its establishment in 1981. Each atlas is produced as a separate fascicle and allows the user to trace the development of Irish towns through space and time. One of the central purposes of the atlas project is to allow for the comparative study of historic settlement. With a sufficient number of atlases completed, the IHTA has for the last number of years been holding an annual seminar to explore the utility of the project for comparative studies of historic settlement in Ireland.
The IHTA is part of a wider European project under the auspices of the International Commission for the History of Towns. This project has surveyed c. 500 European settlements in eighteen countries and represents a valuable resource for comparative studies of urban morphology. This seminar represented some of the first attempts to use atlases from Ireland and other European projects to engage in comparative study of historic settlements as a shared European experience. Thus, not only were the presenters attempting to compare various settlements but also in breaking new ground they were seeking to understand and identify the strengths and difficulties of such an undertaking.
The seminar had two main panels: ‘Medieval towns, colonisation and legacy’;and ‘Transformation in 18th and 19th century towns’. Each presentation used an Irish and European town to engage in a comparative study of urban development through space and time. A fine example of this was Mark Hennessy’s (TCD) presentation: ‘Kilkenny and Lviv: comparative perspectives’. Using the historic town atlases as the bases of his talk, he discussed developments in the urban environment within a broader political, social and economic context to highlight the factors driving urban development in each city and to explain the similarities and differences that these experienced. The two main panels were followed by a plenary session by Michael Conzen who provided an elucidating and informative discuss of the comparative study of urban morphology.
The conference was quite successful not only in producing some insightful studies of the idea of urban areas as a shared heritage but also highlighted some of the benefits and drawbacks of the atlases as a tool for such studies. While differences between and limitations in the various atlases were discussed, the conference very ably demonstrated that the wider European atlas project is a very useful resource for such studies. One hopes that this is the start of a very rewarding series of seminars that will further explore this topic and in doing so display another important use for the excellent work that is being done by the IHTA.
The IHTA has produce a series of books aimed at those seeking to understand both the atlases and the wide range of uses to which they can be put, these are :
Jacinta Prunty and H.B. Clarke, Reading the maps: a guide to the Irish Historic Towns Atlas (Dublin, 2011).
H.B. Clarke and Sarah Gearty, Maps & Texts: Exploring the Irish Historic Towns Atlas (Dublin, 2012).
There have also been a number of atlases produced, these can be view and purchased at:
2015 marks the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Hubble telescope, named after the American astronomer Edwin Hubble (1889-1953). Astronomers had been well aware that the earth’s atmosphere distorts light coming from stars and nebulae since early in the science’s development. Early astronomers, relying on hand-drawn images to relay their discoveries resorted to multiple observations of astronomical phenomenon in order to produce a reliable image. However this technique could still produce errors, in part due to the observer(s) imaging things they wished were there (or not seeing things that were). This was help by the development of photography in the nineteenth century. It would be many decades before the exposure time was short enough to allow for its use in astronomy but even then this technology had to negotiate with atmospheric interference. Following the Second World War the idea of a space-based telescope began to gain traction. Obviously, such ideas were aided by the development of rockets during that conflict.
First promoted by Lyman Spitzer, such a telescope would not only avoid the distortion of the earth’s atmosphere but also allow for the observation of x-rays, which are blocked by the atmosphere, from distance objects. Spitzer was to go on to head the National Academy of Science’s committee on the Large Space Telescope which held its first meeting in 1966, just three years prior to the first landing on the moon. Thus the genesis of a large space-based telescope must be understood in the context of the space race and, hence, the cold war.
The task of launching such a telescope into space had been studied by Wernher von Braun at the Marshall Space center in the 1960s. Von Braun had been a member of the German rocket society in the 1920s and received his Ph.D. while developing missiles for the German army. As well being famous as one of NASA’s foremost rocket engineers (developing the Saturn rocket) he also led the team’s which constructed the American Jupiter ballistic missile and, during the Second World War, developed the German V-2 rocket. This demonstrates the strong connection between German military rocket engineering and subsequent developments in American military and space rockets.
The feasibility of a large space-based telescope was significantly improved with the development of the Space Shuttle program from the 1960s. This would not only provide a platform with which to launch such a telescope but would also allow for periodic maintenance and repair of the apparatus. In 1971 NASA approved feasibility studies for a large-space telescope. This was followed by attempts to secure federal funding. However, at an estimated cost of $400-$500 million these proved difficult acquire. The only hope for the telescope would be a reduction in price. The substitution of the proposed 3 meter mirror to one measuring 2.4 meters brought the projected cost down to c. $200 million. With this the project secure partial funding from the European Space Research Organisation (now the European Space Agency) in 1975 and the rest of the funds were approved by congress in 1977.
The original launch in 1986 was aborted due to the loss of the Space Shuttle Challenger and the telescope would not enter orbit until 1990. Astronomers quickly noticed distortions in the images from the telescope due to a fault in its primary mirror. This was repaired during the telescopes first service mission in 1993 and the telescope has been astonishing the world since. However the faith of the telescope is as tied to the space shuttle program now as it was during its conception. With the end of that program there is no platform available to service Hubble and it will eventually fall into disrepair.
A Brief History of the Hubble Space Telescope, available at National Aeronautics and Space Administration, NASA history division (http://history.nasa.gov/hubble/) (24 April 2015).
Dr. Wernher von Braun, available at Marshall Space Flight Center, MSFC History Office (http://history.msfc.nasa.gov/vonbraun/bio.html) (24 April 2015).
2015 marks the bicentenary of the birth of George Boole who made significant contributions to a form of mathematics that is essential today for the operation of the internet. Boole was born in 1815 to John Boole (a cobbler) and his wife Mary. Despite the basic education that Boole received he was encouraged by his father, who was active in the local mechanics’ institute, to advance his learning. He would go on to teach himself classical and modern languages; in addition, he took a keen interest in science, particularly optics. Using these skills Boole was to spend his early adulthood teaching in various English schools.
In 1831 Boole began the study of advance mathematics, aided by his friendship with Sir Edward Bromhead (who had studied mathematics at Cambridge). Boole was to excel at mathematics and between 1841 and 1845 was to publish twelve mathematical papers, receiving a Royal Medal of the Royal Society of London for his work.
In 1845 the Colleges (Ireland) Bill was passed providing public funds for the establishment of colleges in Ireland. Boole, encouraged by the future Lord Kelvin, William Thompson, applied for a position as Professor of Mathematics at one of the new institutions. Boole was elected to that position at Queen’s College Cork (now University College Cork, UCC) in 1849. It was here that Boole was to make some of his most significant contributions to mathematics. At the centre of his new study was an attempt to construct a science of logic based on mathematical equations. His 1854 book, An investigation of the laws of thought on which are founded the mathematical theories of logic and probability, was a major contribution to the algebra of logic. This was to form the bases of Boole’s work for the rest of his life. This work was to focus on the differential operators and, thus, had a strong influence on Boole’s contributions to logic.
For his contributions to mathematics Boole was awarded honorary degrees from Dublin, and Oxford Universities; he was also elected a Fellow of the Royal Society in 1857. At the heart of logic is the need to determine whether a statement is true or false, thus, Boole’s attempts to use algebra to solve logical problems produced a binary form of mathematic equation. While contemporaries had a wide range of views on the success and originality of Boole’s work, it was to become famous in the twentieth century when an abstract Boolean algebra was developed and -with its binary bases- was to prove one of the best methods to study digital circuits. Thus when using the advance search function on an internet search engine -otherwise known as the Boolean operators- remember that the computer is using mathematics first developed in the nineteenth century. If one ever needed an argument for the utility and necessarily of blue-sky research this is surely one of them.
UCC are having a series of events to mark the bicentenary of Boole’s birth and his contributions to mathematics, more information can be found at the website George Boole (http://georgeboole.com/).
Grattan-Guinness, ‘Boole, George (1815–1864)’, in Lawrence Goldman (ed.), Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (Oxford, 2004), available at (www.oxforddnb.com) (6 March)
Roderick Gow, ‘George Boole’ in James McGuire, James Quinn (eds), The Dictionary of Irish Biography (Cambridge, 2009), available at (dib.cambridge.org) (6 Mar. 2015).
This month’s ‘Resources for Historians’ is a change from our usual review of useful websites. Instead the resource under scrutiny is a series of publications whose purpose is to guide readers through various source materials that would be of potential use to historians. While the series title points out that these are primarily geared toward local history there is much in the series that is of use to the study of a wide range of subjects.
The books follow a set format with the first chapter giving an introduction to the context of the sources’ creation and the uses to which they were put. This chapter is in essence a history of the sources. This gives the historian an insight into the available sources and the limitations imposed by their creation. This is followed by a chapter on accessing the sources, providing an overview of the various archives that hold the material under investigation and how to access them. The final chapter normally provides hints as to the potential uses to which the sources under investigation can be used. The books are normally finished with appendices that give an overview of the resources that are available.
An example of the material covered by these books is Jacinta Prunty’s Maps and map-making in local history (Disclaimer Jacinta Prunty is the author’s Ph.D. supervisor). The book provides an introduction to the world of maps and provides the reader with the essential knowledge needed to read, understand and use maps as historical sources. It guides the reader through the nature of maps, the manner of their creation with particular reference to map-making in Ireland. The book then provides all the information needed to locate and assess the main body of maps needed for a local or national study of Ireland.
Other very useful guides in the series are C.J. Woods, Travellers’ accounts as source material for Irish historians; in addition to an introduction the book has annotations of over 200 accounts and a bibliography. Indexes of travellers and places at the end of the book allow the reader to trace either individual travellers or allow one to enquire into any traveller accounts of a particular area. The same format is seen in Raymond Refausse’s, Church of Ireland records which provides a guide to published catalogues, editions of archives and manuscripts of the Church of Ireland as well as a guide to the main repositories for Church of Ireland records (a second edition of this book was published in 2006).
Other books in the series include Business archival sources for the local historian; A guide to sources for the history of Irish education, 1780-1922; Medieval Gaelic sources; The big houses and landed estates of Ireland: a research guide; Exploring the history and heritage of Irish landscapes; Sources for the study of crime in Ireland, 1801-1921; A guide to Irish military heritage; Counting the people: a survey of the Irish censuses, 1813-1911; Medieval record sources, Pre-census sources for Irish demography.
These guides are a highly recommended starting point for students, amateur historians or even experienced historians who are seeking to expand and understand the range of potential resources that are available to them.
See the complete series of Maynooth Research Guides in Local History available at Four Courts Press:
The British Society for the History of Science (BSHS) is the biggest society in the British Isles dedicated to the promotion of scholarly research into the history of science, technology and medicine. It holds two conferences each year: its annual conference (during the summer) and a postgraduate conference in January. This year’s successful postgraduate conference was held by the Department of Science and Technology Studies (STS) at University College, London.
The conference had a range of panels including ‘Histories & Medicine’, ‘Science & Empire’, ‘Science & Public Discourses’ and ‘Philosophy of Science’. There was an excellent panel entitled ‘State Sponsorship vs. Private Reward: The role of the twentieth-century General Post Office in Warfare and Welfare’. This was comprised of presentations by Alice Haigh, Coreen McGuire, Sean McNally and Jacob Ward which looked at the Post Office’s research and development activities in twentieth-century Britain. In particular this panel gave a fascinating insight into the Post Office’s role in the development of hearing aids for the NHS and its role as an R&D centre for the British military during the First World War.
An extremely interesting paper was provided by Michael Guida entitled ‘Sonic therapy: birdsong on the radio during the Second World War’. This paper provided a fascinating look at not only an emerging technology but also an insight into the debate over the use of these natural sounds to alleviate the tensions brought to Britain during the Second World War.
The highlight of the conference, for me, was a paper given by Erin Beeston (Centre for the History of Science, Technology and Medicine, University of Manchester) entitled ‘A space to congregate, educate and exhibit: sites of knowledge production and consumption at the Camp Field, Manchester’. This paper looked at the social impacts of the construction of a train station at the site. The paper traced the encroachment of the sub-urban Manchester on this site that had many traditional functions including an open air market. The presentation sought to explain how municipal authorities sought to influence the activities happening in the area by the construction of an enclosed market space in which social interaction could be controlled.
The conference keynote was provided by Prof. Hasok Chang (Department of History and Philosophy of Science, Cambridge). This focused on the relevance of History of Science to both scientists and wider society.
The conference was well attended with a large number of speakers and was a great display of the vibrancy of the history of science, technology and medicine. As well as a large number of presentations from various UK universities, speakers were also present from across Europe including Finland, Spain and the Czech. Republic. As always with a BSHS event there was a welcoming and congenial atmosphere. A lively series of social events and excursions added to this collegiality. These included visits to the Science Museum (London) and the Wellcome Collection. The social events included a welcome reception at the Grant Museum of Zoology and a Bright Club Event. The Bright Club which originated at UCL is a stand-up comedy show where students and lecturers use their research as the bases of a comedy act. Despite reservations this turned out to be a highlight of the conference and a very enjoyable evening was had by all.
The call for papers for the society’s annual conference is now open. More information about the British Society for the History of Science and its annual and postgraduate conferences can be found on the society website http://www.bshs.org.uk/.
Science week provides a unique opportunity for those with an interest in the history of science and technology in Ireland to visit many institutions and locations that might not be accessible during the rest of the year. While there is much interest in current scientific endeavours, Ireland’s rich scientific and technology heritage is often forgotten.
A good starting point for anyone seeking a greater understanding of the history of science in Ireland is one of Ingenious Ireland’s walking tours (of Dublin). During science week Ingenious Ireland will be hosting walking tours entitled ‘Irish Ideas and Inventions that Changed the World’, see here (fees apply). The founder and lead guide of Ingenious Ireland, Mary Mulvhill, will also be giving a talk at Portlaoise Library on Irish scientist and inventors (12 Nov., 7.30 pm).
A number of Irish Science and Technology museums will be opening their doors for the week including the Hurdy Gurdy Museum of Vintage Radio, located in the Martello Tower overlooking Howth Harbour, Dublin. This museum concentrates on the history of telecommunications. Also opening its doors is the National Science Museum, at St. Patrick’s College, Maynooth (15 Nov., 2.00 pm to 3.00pm). This museum contains one of the largest collections of historical scientific instruments in Ireland. (More about the museum can be found here). The National Print Museum will have an open day entitled ‘Printfest’ (15 Nov., 12.00pm to 4.00pm). A particular highlight of the week will be an exhibition entitled ‘The Eighth Continent’ at the Edward Worth Library (Dr Steevens’ Hospital, Dublin 8, opposite Heuston Station, 13 Nov. 10.00 am to 4.00pm). This will centre on a display of early-modern texts on the moon and for anyone with an interest in early-modern science the ‘Worth’ is well worth a visit (please excuse the extremely bad pun!).
Lecturers during the week include: ‘The King Under the Carpark- Where Science Meets History’, by Dr Cas Kramer, University of Leicester which was part of the group that found the body of King Richard III in 2013 (Waterford IT, 10 Nov. 7.00pm); a lecture on the Irish Scientist John Desmond Bernal will be given by Professor Paul Barnes, Birkbeck, University of London (Nenagh Arts, Centre Banba Square, Nenagh, 11 Nov. 8.00pm); Professor Etienne Parizot, Professor of High Energy Astrophysics, Université Paris VII, France will give an presentation entitled ‘Cosmic Rays: A Century of Adventure and Mysteries!’
For those with an interest in Science Communication and the difficulties that can arise from its misrepresentation might be interested in a lecture by Professor Brian Hughes, entitled ‘Adventures in Science Communication’ (Maynooth University, 10 Nov. 7 pm, Theatre 2, Hume Building).
Hopefully, our readers will have a chance to attend at least one of these exhibitions. Events such as these provide a great opportunity to demonstrate the wealth of science and technology heritage that Ireland possesses. In addition, for those with an interest in more contemporary scientific discoveries there is plenty on offer during the week. More information can be found on the Science Week website here.
Review of the Irish Network for the History of Science, Technology and Medicine’s 2015 conference ‘Science in the City’
The 2015 conference for the Irish Network for the History of Science, Technology and Medicine was held on the 3 October in the Edward Worth Library, Dublin. The theme for this year’s conference was ‘Science in the city’. This produced a number of excellent papers. Dr Ida Milne (NUI Maynooth/QUB) provided us with an overview of the 1918 flu outbreak in Dublin and with the municipal authority’s attempts to deal with it. This was followed by an excellent paper from Dr Tomas Irish (TCD) which focused on the role that academics in Trinity College played in the First World War. This was primarily concerned with academics who attempted to use their scientific knowledge to further Britain’s war efforts. The paper highlighted the perception that the war could be an event where academic scientists could prove the worth of their discipline in comparison to the study of Classics that had been such a feature of university education up to this point.
The afternoon session produced a fine paper by Tanya O’Sullivan (QUB) based on her recently completed PH.D. thesis. This looked at different academics’ view of the ongoing debate about the origins of handedness in nineteenth-century Dublin. This session was finished by Mary Mulvihill of Ingenious Ireland (who runs historic tours of Dublin with science, technology and medicine themes). This presentation was not only highly entertaining but also highlighted the interest in the history of science, technology and medicine amongst the general public.
The day was finished with the foundation of the Irish Network for the History of Science, Technology and Medicine. This network will be a focal point for those interested in the study of science, technology and medicine. We shall aim to give our readers more information on the network and its activities in the coming months.
Book review: Roland Wenzlhuemer, Connecting the Nineteenth-Century World: The Telegraph and Globalization (Cambridge, 2013).
The first thing that is obvious on reading this book is the author’s training as a social scientist. Much of the introductory and first chapter of the book is taken up with the social theory of technology. While this is an essential task for a history of technology study, in places the author’s use of detailed explanation and examples in striving for clarity can be excessive and detract from the empirical and narrative flow of the book. This makes the book an excellent starting point for students seeking to understand the sub-discipline that is the history of technology, as well as providing an excellent source of further readings. But it does make reading certain sections difficult and would deter the average readership without a strong interest in the history of communications.
The central aim of Wendzlhuemer’s book is to examine the role that the telegraph played in the process of globalisation during the nineteenth and early twentieth century. The book begins with the now near-obligatory comparison between the telegraph and the internet. This section concludes that there were similarities and differences between both technologies, in particular the ability of both technologies to ‘dematerialise’ information, i.e. physically separating information from a physical carrier. The book argues that to understand the development and application of these technologies we must look beyond the socio-, or technological-determinist understanding of technological development to what has been termed a ‘post-humanist’ approach. Thus, while technological systems are socially ‘shaped’, the technology has agency and impacts on its use. Bearing this in mind the book aims to understand how the forces of globalisation ‘shaped’ the global telegraph network and in turn how the availability of this network was utilised by those involved in the formation of a global economy.
The book is very successful in tracing how the development of global communication impacted upon temporal distances; that is the time it took to communicate between different regions of the world. The author through detailed research and analysis, using social network theory, is able to demonstrate that important financial and mercantile centres such as London developed significant links to regions like the east coast of the United States and India and this allowed rapid communication. However, in contrast, as these regions were becoming temporally closer other parts of the globe, due to poor telegraphic connectivity, were bypassed. In chapter six the book traces the development of international telegraphy and the author attempts to correlate the development of telegraphic connectivity with increases in trade, however while he maintains that this was the case in some regions it did not happen in others. The author, aware of the limitations of reliance upon telegraphic and trade statistics alone, is quick to point out that a study of the wider economic and structural factors behind these is needed to integrate the benefits of telegraphic connectivity within wider commercial interests.
As well as a global study of telegraphic development the author dedicates a chapter to the development of the telegraph in Britain and another to India. Again the use of social network theory allows an analysis of the use of this technology.
While the product of a substantial amount of work which provides a considerable amount of data of use to historians of the telecommunications this book at times presents this information without enough contextualisation. It is here perhaps that the book is too ambitious and by concentrating purely on international telegraphy could have allowed itself room to explore the wider factors influencing telegraphic development and its impact on globalisation in more detail.
In conclusion, for anyone researching globalisation, telegraphy and international trade in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries this is a must read, but the density of statistics would deter the average reader.
The recent boom in micro-brewing was emphasised recently when I was introduced to a close friend’s new home-brewing equipment. Without even producing a single batch plans are afoot for the rapid expansion of this private enterprise and I have no doubts that the directors at St. James’ Gate are already getting worried. However as the old adage goes if we don’t learn the mistakes of history we are destined to repeat them. With this in mind, as a word of warning, those expanding private and commercial breweries should make themselves aware of an event that happened 200 years ago which came to be known as the ‘London Beer Flood of 1814’.
The Henry Meux and Co. Brewery had been in operation at the junction of Tottenham Court Road and Oxford Street since 1764. Continually expanding the owners had built a vat in 1804 that held 610,000 litres of porter. On the 17 October 1814 a hoop on the vat gave way; this had happened numerous times before with no ill effect. However at half-past five that evening before the hoop could be replaced this vat ruptured sending 7,664 barrels of porter rushing into the surrounding buildings. Most of these were tenements and within minutes the flood had killed a mother and daughter and destroyed the wall of a nearby public house trapping and killing a young girl. Finally reaching a nearby wake the flood killed five of the mourners, bringing a whole new meaning to the term drowning your sorrows.
Indeed this was not the only time the Meux brewery came to the attention of the public for the wrong reasons. An 1818 Report from the Committee on Public Breweries highlighted the poor brewing practises at the brewery which lead to a £100 fine. However despite these setbacks the brewery was to continue in business for many years.
So for all those budding brewers please remember: safety first.
Liverpool Mercury, 28 Oct. 1814.
While there is much more culture than history on offer this night does have some great events for those with an historical leaning in their recreational pursuits. There will be several historical tours of Dublin city (including tours of the historic quarter, museum quarter, the north Georgian area, TCD and the Docklands, and Temple Bar, all require booking thought the Culture Night website and some are already booked out, so hurry!).
Some fine buildings and museums are also opening for the night. In addition to the main national museums, these include the Custom House (open 5-11pm), Dublin Castle (open 6-10pm), Dublin Civic Trust (open 5-9.30pm), Dunsink Observatory (open 7-11pm), Dublin Writers Museum (open 5-9pm), the Freemasons’ Hall ( 5-10pm) and the Irish Architectural Archive (open 5-11pm) to name but a few. The night however is not restricted to Dublin with events taking place throughout the island. Galway City Museum, for example, will host ‘Sketches of Galway’s Cultural History’, in Limerick city the Hunt Museum is opening for the night and Belfast has an array of events.
While Holinshed is focused on history it mightn’t hurt to acquire a little bit of culture. Remember there is plenty on offer including a vast selection of traditional music, for example guided tours of Na Píobairí Uilleann’s premises on Henrietta Street (worth a visit to see the building alone) which will of course include some fabulous pipers. In addition, some of our other cultural delights will be on offer with the opening of the National Gallery of Ireland, the Contemporary Music Centre, the National Concert Hall and a Public Art Walking tour. Visitors to the Culture Night website would be forgiven for thinking that this event should last a week not a night and with all these excellent events on offer the hardest part (at least for myself) will be choosing which one to attend.
All details on the above events and many more are available on the Culture Night website http://www.culturenight.ie/
We would be delighted to hear if our readership knows of any particularly good events, so please tell us via the comments section below or email firstname.lastname@example.org and we will post them for you.
A recent trip to Romania brought with it the chance to visit Bran Castle, located outside the city of Brasov in Transylvania. As well as being an historic fortress the site is also advertised as the home of Dracula. While there were multiple sites of historical interest in the locality, as a large group of historians the chance to visit the fictional home, of a fictional character, from a fiction book, written by a man who had never visited the place, was too good an opportunity to pass on. So off we set in full hope of coffins, plastic bats and perhaps a few damsels with perforated necks.
Construction of the castle itself was originally started by the Teutonic Knights; it was completed in 1388 and was used as a customs post by the citizens of Brasov. It is ideally situated for this task, controlling a valley cutting through the mountains. Ownership of the castle changed many times in the following centuries, with many structural alterations taking place. It underwent substantial renovations in the 1920s when it was used as a residence for the Romanian royal family. However its links to the historic figure Vlad the Impaler are slender to say the least. He was ruler of the neighbouring Principality of Wallachia and his only connection with Bran Castle was his supposed incarceration there for a short period.
I have to admit as a tour group consisting of a coach-full of historians there was an inordinate amount of disappointment when we discovered that the castle has, in the last few years, begun to concentrate on its historic origins and the period of royal habitation rather than on its dubious links to Bram Stokers Dracula. Talk of Stoker himself brings out a hidden duality in the local population. One moment, the Dublin-born, Stoker is a near national hero who has done wonders for the local economy. Perhaps the tour guide’s talk of individuals arriving with garlic chains is an exaggeration, perhaps not; what is certain is the steady stream of tourist descending on the castle throughout the day. Indeed, the idea of ‘Dracula tourism’ has produced at least one Ph.D. on the topic (see further reading). However the fact that Stoker has managed to turn a popular folk hero (a Romanian Robin Hood), known to the rest of the world as Vlad the Impaler, into a mystical monster cannot be anything but bothersome to national pride. Indeed the few information posters at the castle relating to Dracula are quick to highlight the national perception of Vlad as a good ruler.
Romania is not alone in realising that sometimes the best ‘heritage’ is invented heritage. While Dublin has much to offer in terms of historical sites, events like Bloom’s Day are some of the capital’s biggest attractions. ‘Dracula tourism’ is big business in Romania and the move to highlight the castle’s authentic history is tempered by this. As one local pointed out to me when asked why they continue to advertise the site as the home of Dracula: ‘I don’t know if you know many Romanians, but we are not stupid’.
Bran Castle website, available at http://www.bran-castle.com/index.html
Hovi, Tuomas, Heritage through Fiction: Dracula Tourism in Romania (Annales Universitatis Turkuensis, Ph.D. Thesis, 2014), available at http://www.doria.fi/handle/10024/98458
Review of the annual conference of the International Committee for the History of Technology (ICOHTEC), Brasov, Romania, 29 July-August 2014
The International Committee for the History of Technology (ICOHTEC) was formed in 1968 as a forum for scholars of technology from both sides of the ‘Iron Curtain’. The society has had an annual conference most years since 1970 and has published an annual peer-reviewed journal, ICON, since 1995.
This year’s, 41st annual, symposium was held at the Transylvanian University of Brasov, Romania, from the 29 July to the 2 August. The theme of the conference was ‘technology in transition’ with presentations on both technological transition and technology in times of transition. There was an extensive array of speakers covering many aspects of the history of technology ranging from technology and medicine, to telecommunications, to nuclear power. Forty-nine panels with over 150 presentations took place between Wednesday 30 July and Saturday 2 August. Highlights of the conference included a panel on ‘“The dark side of technology”: technology and illness since the nineteenth century’. The presentations in this panel ranged from a study of the rise of repetitive strain injury due to the telegraph (Amelia Bonea, Oxford University); to the development and marketing of Overbeck’s Rejuvenator (James Stark, University of Leeds), a device which supposedly use low current electricity to improve health. This was an interesting presentation which highlighted the position of electrical health products and how mainstream medical organisations such as the British Medical Association dealt with them. It demonstrated how Overbeck through the use of advertisement was able to make a considerable sum of money despite the private disdain of many professional medical bodies. The highlight of this panel was Dr. Jennifer Wallis’s (Oxford University) paper on the use of technology in the asylum. Though a case study of the use of the syphymograph (a device design to give recordings of the pulse by being strapped onto the patients arm) the paper investigated how the introduction of technology to the asylum could lead to difficulties in the treatment of already nervous patients. The paper also highlighted how perceptions of pulse rate were linked to certain mental conditions and how through the development of the syphymograph and its ability to record pulse rates new therapies were developed.
In line with the conference theme Dr. Mauro Costa da Silva (Federal Institute of Colegio Pedro II, Rio de Janeiro) presented an excellent paper on the transition from landline-based telegraphy to aerial telegraphy in Brazil. This was not only a presentation that demonstrated extensive archival research but also highlighted the impact that factors outside the purely technological had on the development of telecommunications in Brazil. In addition, the paper was instructive on the different roles that British-funded submarine cables and the inland cables funded by the Brazilian government played.
Other important aspects of an ICOHTEC conference are the social events. These were extensive with tours taking place before, after and during the conference. In addition a different social event took place each night including an opening reception, traditional music night, ICOHTEC’s renowned jazz night and the conference dinner. All these were excellent opportunities to mix with others interested in the history of technology.
In conclusion, the wide mix of presenters, including historians, scientists and engineers, gave some excellent presentations on a range of topics. The conference was an enjoyable experience from both an academic and social perspective.
Three other railways were to follow the example of the Kingstown to Dalkey line in using atmospheric pressure for propulsion. The first of these was the earliest stretch of the London, Croydon and Epsom railway. While initial problems on this line were overcome, a major valve failure led to the temporary closure of the line and its conversion to locomotive power. Isambard Kingdom Brunnel, who had visited the Kingstown to Dalkey line, was to advocate the use of atmospheric pressure to power the proposed South Devon Railway due to doubts of the ability of locomotives to traverse the steep gradients on the line. Several engine houses were constructed and the first section of this line was opened in 1847. The South Devon Railway was eventually converted to locomotive power for several reasons. These included, as in Ireland, leaking seals and difficulties in controlling the operation of the line. The other atmospheric railway was the Naterre-St Germain line which opened in 1847. In many ways this line was similar to the Kingstown to Dalkey line: it was short, had only one engine and, therefore, only propelled the carriages in one direction. It was to remain under atmospheric power for several years of its existence. In Ireland the Kingstown to Dalkey Atmospheric railway was to remain in operation until 1854. This continued use demonstrated that the technology could be used successfully despite its faults. However, proposed railway extensions that would see the construction of a continuous railway line from Dublin to Wexford lead to the conversion of the line to locomotive power signalling the end of atmospheric railways in Ireland.
Brunnel’s atmospheric railway
Source: “Brunel’s Atmospheric Railway”. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution 2.5 via Wikimedia Commons – http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Brunel%27s_Atmospheric_Railway.jpg#mediaviewer/File:Brunel%27s_Atmospheric_Railway.jpg
Atmospheric railways were to fail for a number of reasons. These included the fact that engines even though in use only when there were carriages on the line, had to be kept powered in preparation leading to considerable expenses, the leakage caused by the leather seals added to difficulties, technological difficulties were encounter in the production of working valves and the addition of several stops on bigger lines made them much harder to control. Another important reason for the failure was the locomotive promoters’ success in not only improving their designs but also the reputation of steam propelled trains. However the very fact that atmospherics were constructed is an insight into railway expansion in the period. While a reverse reading of the railway development would see a direct and inevitable succession from the Stevenson’s Rocket to steam-power locomotives and then the diesel-powered trains of today, this was not the reality. Before the technology became what social theorists would call ‘black boxed’ multiple technologies were deemed by contemporaries to be potentially the best method of propelling trains.
Hadfield, Charles, Atmospheric railways: a Victorian venture in silent speed (Newton Abbott, 1967).
Buchanan, R.A., ‘The Atmospheric Railway of I.K. Brunel’ in Social Studies of Science, xxii, no. 2, Symposium on ‘Failed Innovations’ (1992), pp 231-243
The idea that comes to mind when one is asked to think of a railway is most likely a steam or diesel locomotive pulling a series of carriages. However, in the early years of railway development many methods of propulsion were experimented with and promoted. Even during the famous ‘Liverpool and Manchester Railway Trials’ of 1829, which in popular memory pivoted on the success of George and Robert Stevenson’s steam-powered Rocket, the competitors included a horse-power carriage and a locomotive using John Ericsson’s ‘heat engine’. However, among the main competitors of locomotive propulsion were the many types of fixed engine railways. Fixed engine railways used a stationary engine to pull carriages along the tracks, normally using rope or cable. These had many perceived advantages: they used tried and tested stationary engines, did not have to propel the engine as well as carriages and were considered much safer. In addition to these perceived advantages, stationary engines were seen as particularly useful on steep gradients where they were often used either instead of or to supplement locomotive power.
The idea of using atmospheric pressure to propel railway carriages was first promoted by engineers in the early part of the nineteenth century, with probably the most well-known being Samuel Clegg and the Samuda brothers, Jacob and Joseph. These railways would use atmospheric pressure derived from a stationary engine to propel carriages. Much experimentation was undertaken on the proposed atmospheric railway system which was used as much to ‘prove’ the technology to potential investors as to improve upon it. This included the erection of a half-mile track at Wormwood Scrubs, London.
Figure 1 Kingstown to Dalkey Railway
Source: Illustrated London News, 6 Jan. 1844
Atmospheric powered railways made an early appearance in Ireland, where the first commercial atmospheric railway opened on 29 March 1844. This new Kingstown to Dalkey atmospheric railway line was an extension of the Dublin to Kingstown Railway line. It consisted of a railway track between which was laid a pipe with a slit running down the centre. This was sealed with overlapping leather to create an airtight tube which was connected to a stationary engine at Dalkey. This large engine had a thirty-six foot flywheel and three boilers measuring four foot three inches in diameter and thirty-six feet in length. It would remove the air from the tube to create a vacuum. The front carriage or ‘leading car’ on this line had a piston which when connected to the atmospheric pipe in the centre of the tracks would propel the carriages to Dalkey. As the route had what was considered to be a steep incline the use of atmospheric pressure was deemed the best method of propulsion. In addition, the gravitational pull of the decline would propel the carriages on the return journey thereby removing the need for a second stationary engine based at Kingstown.
The fastest speed achieved on this line was eighty-four miles an hour when the ‘leading car’ was tested without any other carriages. In order for the carriages to start their accent to Dalkey the attendants at Kingstown pushed the carriages down a short decline at the station until the piston on the leading car connected to the atmospheric pipe between the tracks. Once the carriages reached a certain point on the track power to the engine would cut power thus allowing momentum to bring the carriages into Dalkey, aided by the drivers brake. This system was not without problems and the carriages were known to have stopped short of the station. Unfortunately other more serious issues were encountered; the main one being the failure of the leather to reseal properly after the ‘leading car’ had passed, leading to a loss in pressure.
In our next instalment we shall trace the application of this technology beyond Ireland.
Hadfield, Charles, Atmospheric railways: a Victorian venture in silent speed (Newton Abbott, 1967); Scannell, James, ‘From Kingstown to Dalkey by air’ in Dublin Historical Record, lxii, no. 1 (2009), pp 83-97; Murray, Kevin, ‘The atmospheric railway to Dalkey, in Dublin Historical Record, v, no. 3 (1943), pp 108-20.
By Adrian James Kirwan This site has an ancient history of use as a defensive fortification with the oldest surviving building, St Margaret’s Chapel, dating from the twelfth century. Other noticeable additions are the Great Hall and the Half Moon Battery both built in the sixteenth century. The first thing one notices on the way to Edinburgh Castle is the steep ascend (the planners just weren’t thinking of the poor tourists!) and how perfect the location was for defence. Unfortunately the view upon approach is obscured by the modern seating erected for public viewing of the military tattoo. Once you are past this however the view opens up to reveal this ancient stronghold. Holinshed recommends that those with a passion for military pageantry arrive prior to 9.00am. This will allow them to view the trooping of the guard before the 9.30am opening (bearing in mind the upcoming referendum, this could be one of your last chances to see this done by the British Army). The castle has been added to extensively over the centuries and in order to properly understand the significance and history of the structure it is recommended to get a guided tour. Audio tours are rentable at a kiosk to the right of the portcullis gate. This is a multi-faceted destination; the castle itself contains a wealth of architectural gems that tie strongly to Scottish history, in particularly with James V &VI and Mary Queen of Scots. A visit to view the Scottish Crown Jewels is a must and keep an eye out for the dog cemetery, where regimental and officer’s dogs are buried. Added to this are the stunning views of the city provided from the battlements. An important and often overlooked part of the castle is the Scottish National War Museum. Featuring material relating to many prominent Scottish military figures, the museum is divided into multiple display areas focusing on different aspects of Scotland’s military history. In addition to the displays of military uniforms, weapons and medals are audio-visual exhibitions explaining various areas covered by the displays; with a particularly enjoyable one showing original black and white film footage of the First World War. This museum alone is well worth a visit and is particularly good at demonstrating the importance of Scottish involvement in the British Army not just for that institution but also for Scotland and its place within Great Britain. As an aside, the castle’s gun is still fired at 1.00pm as it has done since 1861. This was originally done to allow ships in port to align their chronometers but quickly became the tool by which the city regulated its clocks; maps were even produced so that the city’s residents could compensate for the time delay between the firing of the gun and the sound reaching their part of the city. Priced at £16, a visit to the castle is an enjoyable excursion. Its close proximity to the National Gallery of Scotland and the Walter Scott memorial makes it the ideal starting point for a historical and cultural tour of the city. For more information see http://www.edinburghcastle.gov.uk/
Conference Review: The British Society for the History of Science (BSHS), St. Andrews, Scotland, 3-6 July.
The British Society for the History of Science was founded in 1947 and is the largest society dedicated to the history of science, technology and medicine on the British Isles. It aims to stimulate and facilitate research into the history of science, technology and medicine and to promote these disciplines within the wider research and teaching communities.
This year’s annual conference was another great success with a high academic standard on display at presentations covering a wide range of topics and subject areas. In addition, as anyone who has attended a BSHS event before can testify, a highly enjoyable time was had by all.
The variety of session themes included: Colonial and Imperial Science; Images of the Sciences; Interdisciplinary Approaches to Early Science and Medicine; and ‘Race,’ ‘Ethnicity’ and Research on Human Genetic Variation, 1930s-Present. The first session for example produced an excellent paper from James Poskett (University of Cambridge) entitled “‘The minds of men are on the move”: phrenology in Bengali print culture, 1845-1850’. This explored the transmission of phrenology to a colonial setting and how Bengalis used it to assert their own cultural and scientific objectives.
For historians of technology –such as myself- there was also plenty of scope. Session themes included two sessions on technology and communication, covering the nineteenth and twentieth century respectively. Highlights of these sessions included a fascinating paper, by Ales Materna (University of Ostrava) on the Vitkovice Ironworks of Austrian-Hungary and the role of the Rothschild family. Using this main theme the paper opened up a broad range of topics covering technological development, Austrian naval improvements in the lead up to the First World War and the wider political factors that saw Vitkovice employ the patents of Krupps in the production of their iron. The second session covering technology and communication in the twentieth century was also quite enjoyable, with a paper by Thomas Lean (British Library) using material from an oral history project to trace the factors that influenced the development of the British electricity supply system from nationalisation to privatisation. This was very successful at portraying the sense of public service that drove much of this development.
The conference which was spread out over four days –unfortunately I was unable to attend the whole event- combined a good mix of traditional presentations, round-table discussions, workshops for postgraduates, tours and social events.
What was most encouraging was the wide range of topics and the obvious interest in the history of science, technology and medicine that was on display. While the history of medicine in Ireland has been thriving in recent years one would have to wonder why the same interest has not been taken in the history of science and technology. There are few historians who would argue that both areas did not play a large part in shaping the history of this country but there seems, in comparison to Britain, to be little research in these areas. A look at the BSHS’s website http://www.bshs.org.uk/ and conference page will alert those with an interest to the many areas of research currently being undertaken and perhaps help those hoping to pursue research in the field. The next BSHS meeting will be the annual postgraduate conference to be held at University College, London, in January, 2015. For those interested in submitting a paper keep an eye on Holinshed’s events guide or the BSHS website for the call for papers.
Dippam, Documenting Ireland: Parliament, People and Migration, available at http://www.dippam.ac.uk/
Dippam is a free-to-access online archive of records relating to Ireland from the eighteenth to the twentieth century. A visit to the website’s homepage will present the user with access options for three separate databases. These are the EPPI: Enhanced Parliamentary Papers on Ireland; IED: Irish Emigration Database; and the VMR: Voices of Migration and Return. Access is free of charge to all these databases.
The Enhanced Parliamentary Papers on Ireland database gives the user access to all parliamentary papers about Ireland and Irish affairs from the period following the Act of Union (1801) to 1922. This amounts to over 14,000 documents which includes material relating not only directly to Ireland but also the Irish in Britain and overseas. The database is easy to use with a keyword search function which can be restricted chronologically and/or by document type.
The Irish Emigration Database contains over 33,000 documents relating to emigration from Ireland. The main types of documents contained in this database are privately created documents such as diaries; newspaper extracts in relation to emigration; and official government papers. The material in the database covers the whole of Ireland and North America from 1700 to 1950, but the bulk of these sources pertain to the period 1820 to 1920. This database is also searchable by keyword, date range and document type.
The final database available on this site is the Voices of Migration and Return. This is a database of interviews with ninety-three migrant and returnees from the nine counties of Ulster. The interviews are on average two hours long and were carried out by researchers from universities across Ireland. This has the most advanced search function with categories for sex, age group, denomination, birthplace and decade of migration and return, amongst others.
In conclusion, the website provides an array of documents in relation to Ireland. The Enhanced Parliamentary Papers database is a great resource for those studying Irish history particularly in light of its free access. The two other databases should provide plenty of material for those interested in migration studies either for academic or personal research.
‘Resources for Historians’ will be a monthly post reviewing a free, internet-based resource for historians and history enthusiasts. Potential contributors or alerts about possible sites for review are most welcome and should be sent to the editors at email@example.com.
Adrian James Kirwan, co-editor of Holinshed Revisited, is an Irish Research Council funded Ph.D. candidate at the Department of History, National University of Ireland, Maynooth. His research focuses on the interaction between society and technology.
As Britain’s naval power increased the need for proper navigation at sea became a pressing concern. In 1761 John Harrison manufactured his H4 chronometer which would enable British ships to retain accurate time. An accurate chronometer regulated to a fixed meridian (Greenwich) combined with the measurement of the local meridian would allow for the establishment of a ship’s longitude.
The Astronomer Royal, George Airy, was busy establishing Greenwich observatory as the prime authority on astronomical observations. In advancement of this, the Observatory began, using telegraph lines, to transmit a regular time signals in 1852 to time balls in docks, firstly in London and then throughout Britain. These time balls would consist of a ball mounted on a pole that would drop at 1 pm and thus allow any ships in port to regulate their chronometers.
In Ireland a separate centre of scientific knowledge based at the Observatory of Trinity College (the Royal Observatory, Dunsink), began in 1866 to regulate a time ball in Dublin docks. While initially this ‘regulated’ time was transmitted using a portable chronometer, this was eventually replaced by a telegraphic signal in 1873. This signal was used to regulate not only the time ball at the docks but also clocks at numerous other locations across the city. Thus Irish scientists sought to challenge the monopoly on time that was being asserted from Greenwich, whose signal was transmitted to Dublin by the Post Office. Therefore, two separate systems of time regulation developed in Dublin: one regulated by Dunsink and one by Greenwich.
Until the nineteenth century local time across the British Isles was based on the local meridian, for example Galway time was eleven minutes behind Dublin. With the development of rail networks across the United Kingdom each town on the line used a different time. This proved to be problematic for networked and spatially dispersed systems such as railways to operate in. To solve this, railways operated a standard time (GMT) across the network. This often led to a situation where the time displayed on the clock inside the railway station was different to that displayed outside. Hence the famous story of John Pentland Mahaffy (a professor at Trinity College, Dublin) who upon missing a train made a complaint to the railway clerk that the clocks outside and inside the station had two different times. To this the witty clerk quickly replied that there would be no need for two clocks if they both showed the same time.
While time signals were originally introduced to regulate ship’s chronometers, they were quickly adopted as a method for regulating the clocks of those with access to the new ‘regulated’ time. Initially this was done manually with a portable chronometer corrected visually by a time ball and then brought to individual homes to correct their clocks; eventually many premises were provided with a telegraphic time signal. ‘Regulated’ time was of growing importance in a society whose labour patterns had changed from task orientated, e.g. sowing crops, to a time orientated, e.g. factory production.
In order to standardise time across the United Kingdom and ‘to removed certain doubts as to … expressions of time occurring in Acts of Parliament’ the government passed the Statutes (Definition of Time) Act, 1880. This abolished local time across the British Isles replacing it with GMT (Greenwich mean time) for Britain and DMT (Dublin mean time) for Ireland -thus, Leopold Bloom’s reference to ‘Dunsink time’ in Joyce’s Ulysses. Henceforth, there would be a c. 25 minute difference in time between Britain and Ireland. The government introduced the Summer Time Act, 1916 which continued the separation of GMT and DMT. Later in that year a second bill stated that on the 1 October, Irish time instead of going back one hour would instead be put back thirty-five minutes in order to bring it in line with GMT, where it has remained since.
Patrick A. Wayman, Dunsink Observatory, 1785-1985: A Bicentennial History (Dublin, 1987).
Stephen Kern, The Culture of Time and Space, 1880-1918 (Cambridge, Mass., 2003).
David Rooney and James Nye, “‘Greenwich Observatory Time for the public benefit’”:
standard time and Victorian networks of regulation’ in The British Journal for the History of Science, xlii, no. 1, pp 5-30.