The Local Historian Volume 41, Number 4 November 2011

By Alan Crosby

For me, this is an auspicious issue of The Local Historian, for its publication marks the tenth anniversary of my editorship. We can overdo the marking of anniversaries and, indeed, they now seem to be a peg on which to hang almost anything—recently on the radio I heard a concert which marked the 61st anniversary of the opening of a venue, which hardly seems to be a cause for wild celebration. But I make an exception for the November 2011 issue of TLH. The temptation is, of course, to indulge in yet another retrospective and prospective approach: how did we do it then, how has local history changed over a decade, and what does the future hold. As to the last, I cannot say (though I confidently predict that in ten years’ time we will still be wringing our hands and delving into our philosophies over a) the shortfall in funding b) the academic versus amateur debate c) the parlous state of local history societies d) the value and merit of TV history … and other familiar issues).

With regard to the present state of local history, we are going through one of those periods—they come roughly every 25 years—when everything seems fluid and uncertain. Do other subjects have the same navel-gazing and introspective debates? Are those interested in natural history, or Baroque music, or stamp-collecting, similarly afflicted? Do they worry about theoretical underpinnings and overarching issues? I’m not sure, to be absolutely honest, how many local historians are actually worried about these matters anyway—maybe the Great Debates are actually confined to a very small group. We do in fact have much to be positive about—access to information has never been easier, publishing of local history in all its forms continues apace, there seems no danger of interest in the subject lessening, and popular awareness of local history (especially when linked with conservation, heritage and landscape issues) has never been greater.

The Local Historian seems to demonstrate this positive message. Yes, I am biased, but I do think that it continues to develop and to become more authoritative and respected as time goes on. We have no shortage of articles—indeed, I am constantly delighted by the frequency with which I receive offers of papers, or unsolicited typescripts appear by email or in the post, or historians ask if I would consider an article. The number, diversity and often very high quality of publications sent for review also gives great satisfaction. And the very positive comments that I receive allow me to conclude that TLH is on the right lines. It’s a great pleasure to be the editor, and a richly rewarding task.

Ten years on, I feel I should thank everyone who helps to make TLH such a success: particularly, Evelyn Lord as reviews editor, and Jane Howells as editor of Local History News, the patient recipient of countless emails from me, and the person who puts the web reviews and other content on-line on the BALH website. I’d also like to express my unbounded admiration and deep gratitude to the staff at Salisbury Printing, who do such an outstanding job in producing both publications and with whom I have developed a superb working relationship. And, of course, to you, dear readers, for your continuing support in so many ways. It is without compare, and very much appreciated.      

                                                                                               ALAN CROSBY

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By Richard W Hoyle

In this important article Richard Hoyle, one of the country’s leading historians of the early modern period, introduces new perspectives on the Land Tax and its use in the analysis of local communities in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. He uses as his case study the parish of Earls Colne in Essex, on which he has already written extensively with Professor Henry French. The article begins with an overview of the tax itself, explaining its history and the procedures for the collection of revenues – including the numerous changes which took place. The sizeable problems confronting any would-be analyst of the data are clearly identified, and Hoyle observes that because of these apparently insoluble difficulties the potential of the tax returns has never been fully realised.

He then considers the surviving documentation in The National Archives, providing an accessible introduction to the sources and their arrangement, and describing the particularly important question o f the redemption of the tax by payment of a lump sum. The extent of redemption (in the years around 1800-1804) is discussed. Hoyle draws attention to the potential for linking the tax returns themselves with the redemption certificates (which have never been subjected to historical analysis and thereby proposes new ways of exploiting the evidence of the taxation as a whole.

The article then discusses in detail the specific case of Earls Colne, with tabulated data showing the research potential. Topics analysed include the ownership of property ranked by size of payment, and calculations whereby the amount paid may be used to determine the worth of land and the structure of individual estates. The important question of absentee owners is investigated, and there is a very valuable consideration of the potential for looking at portfolio estate ownership, whereby owners held land in varying proportions in a number of parishes. It is suggested that such studies will allow us to be more aware of the entirety of property ownership, which a focus on a single community does not permit. In the concluding paragraph it is argued that using these sources we may see the rise and fall of estates, gain new information on landownership, landholding and farm size, and even approach the challenging topic of the distribution of wealth.

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By Andrew Wareham

Andrew Wareham is director of the British Academy Hearth Tax Project at the University of Roehampton, and in this article he presents recent research findings concerning the tax in London and Middlesex, highlighting issues of interpretation which will be applicable elsewhere for other counties. He begins his article by emphasising the importance of seeing the hearth tax in the context of wider contemporary social and economic trends, and follows this with a detailed account of hearth tax manuscript research, showing how certain historians-notably C.A.F. Meekings and Jeremy Gibson, have helped to unlock the great potential that the tax returns provide. The article then considers the important question of the variations in the returns over time, pointing out that careful consideration of the individual year and the specific local circumstances is required.

The next section focuses on the opportunities afforded by computer analysis of the data, beginning by setting out the different views of researchers (notably Margaret Spufford and Tom Arkell) and then looking at current initiatives and approaches to computer analysis of the data. Wareham emphasises the sheer quantity of information which the hearth tax returns provide, and draws our attention to the under-used potential of the exemption certificates.

He then analyses key aspects of the returns for London and Middlesex, with particular reference to the geographical and social distribution of wealth; the contrasts between urban and rural communities within the same administrative unit; and the problems posed by inns and alehouses which, with their heated guest-chambers, distort the figures. The article then focuses on a hitherto little-regarded question, that of empty properties (in contrast to the occupied properties which were taxed and the occupied properties which were exempt). The detailed analysis of the figures for the London and Middlesex returns are placed in the context of those for Kent (where only 1.8% of houses were empty in 1664, but with very marked concentrations in Blackheath hundred, closest to London). There follows a closely analysed assessment of the implications of the statistics for London, considering not only the figures but also the fascinating socio-economic circumstances which aid their interpretation. The concluding section of the article gives a stimulating overview of how the hearth tax can be used by local historians in their own research, a task aided by the comprehensive set of notes and references.

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By John S Lee

This article is a version of a Wolfson Lecture delivered by John Lee at Cambridge in 2009. It is a detailed account of the estates and buildings of the Knights Templar at Temple Hirst, which lies beside the River Aire five miles south of Selby. The estate was held by the Knights Templar from about 1152 until the forcible dissolution of the Order in 1311, and then passed to a succession of secular landowners. As with other properties held by the Order, the place-name evidence is remarkably enduring despite the relatively brief quasi-monastic tenure. The paper begins with a general account of the Order and its properties in Britain, and then considers the scattered and often fragmentary early documentary references to Temple Hirst itself. The relationship between this and other Yorkshire properties is discussed.

The documentary, archaeological and architectural evidence for the buildings and the layout of the preceptory complex is presented, before a more substantial account of the estate and its assets and resources. This draws attention to the different landscapes and soil types, and the important agricultural work (including land drainage) which the Templars undertook here, and on properties elsewhere in the country. The suppression of the Order in the early fourteenth century is explained, and the latter part of the article shows the subsequent history of the preceptory buildings and the estate, a story determined by the vagaries of fortune experienced by the various landowning families into whose hands the property passed. The article is a valuable contribution to Templar studies and also demonstrates a successful approach to reconstructing the history of a specific estate. The very comprehensive notes provide a very useful bibliography of published sources on the Knights Templar and their history.

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By Martin Stilwell

In this article Martin Stilwell discusses the major housing programme which was planned and partly implemented by the London County Council in the later Victorian and Edwardian periods. He begins by explaining the background, summarising the key issues of overcrowding, squalor, high rents and inadequate supply which shaped the housing experience of poorer Londoners in the mid-nineteenth century, and then considers the creation of the Metropolitan Board of Works in 1855 and its eventual replacement by the County Council (1889) and London boroughs (1899). He then explains the key legislation which gave powers and responsibilities in the field of housing and which provided the means for the LLC to intervene in housing provision. The early moves towards slum clearance and the debates about the quality and resign of replacement housing – including the opinions of the private philanthropists – are discussed.

The LCC employed young architects with proven ability, and they developed a series of characteristic and relatively standardised designs, with Arts & Crafts motifs, and these represented a very important advance on existing housing provision. Unfortunately, the rents were significantly higher than the poorer potential tenants could afford. The article provides a detailed case-study of the Churchway scheme, between St Pancras and Euston Stations, built in 1901. The financial and planning aspects are discussed, in the context of the attitude of landowner – one of whom was philanthropically-minded and supported the proposal. The conclusion provides an overview of the LCC’s work in the period before 1914, and shows how the housing programme foreshadowed the Council’s ambitious garden estate policy of the post-1918 period.

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By Julie Bagnall

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By John Sutton

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By Win Stokes

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By Andy Gritt

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By Andy Gritt

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By Claire Cross

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By Joan Dils

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By Jake Weekes

 ‘A GENERAL PLAGUE OF MADNESS’ The Civil Wars in Lancashire Stephen Bull (Carnegie Publishing Ltd 2009 500pp ISBN 978-85936-191-7) £18.99

Hitherto the only available publication on the three civil wars in Lancashire (1642-1646, 1648 and 1651) was that of Ernest Broxap, published over a century ago, an extremely solid work has become dated with the passage of time. There was a crying need for a new book to take account of the extensive research of modern scholars including the late Gordon Blackwood, Ronald Hutton and Malcolm Gratton. This gap has now been splendidly filled by Stephen Bull’s study which completely supersedes the earlier work. His book is thoroughly researched, drawing on a wide range of source material from contemporary manuscripts and pamphlets to modern university theses and learned monograms. The only archives apparently not used are State Papers 24 and 28 in The National Archives, which could have enriched the tapestry of this sterling work even further. The author has a brisk and fast-moving narrative style making his book a joy to read, a real page-turner. Excellent maps and illustrations also adorn the lively exposition, though the text is marred by occasional printing errors which are sloppy mistakes and could easily have been avoided.

This criticism apart, Bull is to be commended for an outstanding contribution to the military history of the 1640s at the county level. As he himself points out, ‘Lancashire’s role in these momentous events was quite distinctive’, not only because it was the first county where ‘the shooting war’ began in earnest in August 1642 but also because of the bitterness of the confessional strife which ensued within its borders between zealously ‘Papistical Cavaliers’ on the one side and fanatically Puritan Roundheads on the other. In every sense of the word, the armed struggle between King and Parliament in Lancashire was ‘a War of Religion’. Very few other counties in England and Wales possessed this sectarian quality to such a fierce degree, the exceptions being Staffordshire and Yorkshire where the religious divide proved equally sharp due to their above average concentrations of Roman Catholics and ‘the hotter sort of Protestants’ in a number of key locations. Two communities in Lancashire epitomised this stark ideological dichotomy: puritan Bolton, the so-called Geneva of the North’, and that stronghold of the old religion, Garstang in the Fylde. Religious differences were thus very much to the fore in Lancashire’s ‘bloody broils’.     

The title of Bull’s book, ‘A general plague of madness’, derives from a haunting phrase used by James Stanley, seventh Earl of Derby, to describe the horrific fratricidal conflict which engulfed his native county for the best part of a decade. Derby himself was to be one of the most spectacular victims of Lancashire’s ‘brother-killing days’, undergoing a brutal transformation from an affable, peace-loving peer to a violent, fire-eating Cavalier whose central role in the brutal massacre of the Roundhead inhabitants of Bolton in May 1644 led to his beheading in that same town as a detested war-criminal in October 1651. But Derby was not the only casualty in Lancashire’s profoundly uncivil wars. According to Bull, as many as 7500 Lancastrians may have perished during the fierce fighting in the county, around 5 per cent of the population. This is credible: in a single gunpowder explosion at Houghton Tower, near Preston, in February 1643, above a hundred Roundhead soldiers were blown to kingdom come due to their own carelessness!

No less disastrous was the devastation wrought on the Lancashire economy by the indiscriminate looting and plundering of the rival armies during their various campaigns. Take the poor husbandman of Blackburn, nicknamed ‘Duke of the Bank’, whose house was forcibly entered on Christmas Eve 1642 by marauding Royalist soldiers who robbed him of all his beef and other provisions, thereby completely ruining his festive celebrations. No wonder Lancashire was said to be a ‘miserably wasted county’ by 1651, with innumerable ‘swarms of begging poor’. Yet though the hostilities were bloody and miserable, the county seems to have recovered remarkably quickly.  Indeed, Bull argues that in terms of their cumulative impact the three wars proved ‘a relatively short hiccup or dislocation in Lancashire’s economic and demographic journey through the early modern era’. This especially applied to the shire’s population, which probably numbered about 150,000 in 1664, more or less the same figure as that in 1642. If Bull’s claim is accurate, there must have been a significant baby-boom in Lancashire during the Interregnum to have offset the heavy mortalities of the previous decade. Given the county’s collective descent into madness during the 1640s Bull is surely right to conclude his outstanding study with the observation that it was extremely fortunate that the fratricidal fighting among its inhabitants did not continue any longer than it did.  

JOHN SUTTON

John Sutton is a retired university history lecturer who still teaches on Cambridge University’s International Summer School programmes as well giving talks on P & O, Saga and Fred Olson cruises. 

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By Jonathan Kissock

CHAPELS AND CHAPEL PEOPLE The Chapels Society Miscellany 2 (The Chapels Society London 2010 106pp ISBN 978-0-9545061-3-1) £18+£2 p&p from the editor 31 Melrose Ave, Reading, RG6 7BN

Founded in 1988 to promote interest in non-Church of England religious buildings, the Chapels Society has produced a regular twice-yearly newsletter full of useful articles on aspects of nonconformist buildings and practice, as well as occasional publications gathering together the results of more specialist research. In the absence of any formal introduction the principle on which these particular contributions were chosen for inclusion remains unclear (and there does not appear to be a no.1 unless it is the compilation entitled ‘Dissent and Gothic Revival’ produced in 2007). The article by Alan Petford on ‘Unitarians and ecclesiology in Northern England’ would seem to continue the latter theme, as does that of Clyde Binfield on the Congregationalist architect T. Lewis Banks. These chapel people sought to demonstrate their parity, or even superiority, in wealth, status and taste with any comparable Anglican congregation. There are many illustrations of planned and built edifices, some of which remain in the urban landscape of a number of our cities. Sarah Hill’s contribution, on the Arts and Crafts-influenced Christian Science church in Manchester has affinities with the general approach of Petford and Binfield. Again, this building is a statement of confidence by educated laymen and women aware of current architectural and artistic fashions, adapting them to the service of their particular beliefs. There was a conscious rejection of the elaborate Gothic in favour of simple but elegant design—on the evidence of the excellent illustrations Edgar Wood, hardly a name to conjure with in local history circles, was a master of quirky charm and stylish simplicity.

Kate Tiller’s essay on Berkshire in the mid-nineteenth century at first sight seems a rather odd starting point for a publication concerned primarily with places of worship, for it is about defining Chapel People rather than describing the genesis of chapel buildings. Using information from the civil census it attempts to identify and analyse the social and economic status of the nonconformist signatories of the 1851 religious census returns. The results offer a very different picture of local chapel folk from that provided by the urban commissioners of Gothic edifices or Arts and Crafts-inclined followers of Mary Baker Eddy. Except for surviving examples of chapels that existed at the time, very little can be deduced from these sources about the physical surroundings in which these Berkshire nonconformists met—but some were clearly very humble or even temporary locations. However the article itself provides a fascinating example of how much can be achieved using familiar material and will hopefully inspire others to pursue a similar line of research into chapel people for other parts of the country. Although the general thrust of this compilation is architectural it contains many thought-provoking insights into the ways in which particular local nonconformist communities perceived themselves and the Chapels Society is to be congratulated on producing such a diverse and attractive publication.

WIN STOKES

Winifred Stokes is a former university lecturer, and is now chair of the Durham County Local History Society. She is currently researching the history of early-nineteenth century joint stock companies in North East England.

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By Alan Crosby

In this second edition of a book first published in 1992 the majority of the text remains unaltered, with the exception of a brief additional chapter reviewing developments within Preston since the first edition. Notes and references have also been updated, but one considerable improvement, which is immediately apparent, is the inclusion of additional images, including several high quality aerial photographs. Many of the images from the first edition have been enlarged, revealing new detail, and the use of colour is also advantageous.

Hunt offers a broad chronological survey of the history of Preston, and this is without doubt one of the best local histories of any Lancashire town. His detailed knowledge of the modern geography of Preston greatly assists him in his quest to interpret centuries of its development and role within the wider region, incorporating some impressive archival work, judicious use of previous local histories by others, and expert use of landscape, artefacts, archaeological finds and photographs. He unfortunately refers to Preston as the ‘archetypal mill town’, a concept often referred to but rarely defined, but as he himself makes clear, Preston has a geographical location and a long-term history very much unlike that of other textile towns, so the ‘archetypal’ label simply does not fit. His observation that two centuries of textile production in Preston was something of an aberration is also overstated, although it does help to place the past 200 years into a broader perspective. The central theme of the book is Preston’s geography and geographical location, and the extent to which this made it a ‘central place’ in the North West since Saxon times. Preston grew as a legal, administrative, financial, commercial and market centre whose services were essential to a wide region. Indeed, its hinterland was, and remains, much larger than many other towns of comparable size.

Hunt has producing an accessible text that is aware of wider academic contexts without allowing them to distract from his objective. It is primarily local history for a local audience and Prestonians will undoubtedly be enriched by this book. If this second edition exposes a new generation to the long-term history of England’s newest city, it will have served its purpose. But I do have misgivings: in places it feels rather insular and selective. Would a non-Prestonian have devoted as many pages to Preston North End with barely a mention of other significant leisure activities: horse racing, cricket, music hall, theatre and cinema. Even the temperance movement, which was exported around the world, gets less coverage than football. But other omissions are more difficult to comprehend. In the new chapter on Preston’s current state and future prospects the city’s major economic sectors are discussed, but apart from a single reference to the education sector Hunt does not acknowledge the presence or economic importance of the University and its 30,000 students. There are some major historiographical omissions. Michael Anderson’s extensive work on household structure in Victorian Preston remains unused, as does Elizabeth Roberts’s pioneering oral history. The insights into early industrial family life afforded by Alan Crosby’s edition of the Family Records of Benjamin Shaw similarly do not inform the book. These omissions are very difficult to comprehend. Hardly any of the updated references are to academic studies published in the last twenty years, and many refer to other local histories, few of which approach the general quality of Hunt’s own work. The first edition included numerous references to unpublished postgraduate work, but Hunt has not taken advantage of any of the same conducted in the last twenty years. This is much to be lamented, for this is not the book it could have been.

Overall, Hunt demonstrates mastery in the art of writing accessible and high-quality local history. His task has been made easier by the existence of many earlier studies, but the text is also based on a large amount of primary research with local records, and his many local contacts have facilitated the use of private records that would otherwise go unused. This book deserves to be read by those with an interest in the history of Preston, or with an interest in the long-term functions of urban centres. The overview and the marshalling of disparate evidence makes this the best general text on the history of Preston, but those seeking greater detail would need to look elsewhere.

ANDY GRITT

Andy Gritt is director of the Institute of Local and Family History at the University of Central Lancashire where he is a senior lecturer in history. He has published articles on various aspects of rural history and population history in Economic History Review, Agricultural History Review, Rural History and Local Population Studies.

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By Sean O'Dell

HERTFORDSHIRE’S WAY: 19th century migration frontier and marriage obstacle Peter Bysouth (EAH Press 2010 xiii+166pp) £9.50 from EAH Press, 7 Thornton Court, Thornton Road, Girton, Cambridge CB3 0NS

This is a most welcome book that applies extremely detailed, high quality local research to a topic of much wider significance. Bysouth undertook his research as part of his Masters degree, and in this respect the book is most unusual: far too much of the postgraduate research work undertaken in the United Kingdom remains unpublished, and therefore under-read. This is a particular concern, because there is a legion of excellent dissertations on local topics, access to which would greatly benefit those outwith the University sector. Bysouth’s book is a notable example and many local historians reading this book will undoubtedly begin to plan similar research in their own areas. It provides a blueprint of how to conduct such research, giving not only comparative data but also methodological guidance and detailed appendices which present comprehensive coverage of the evidential base for his argument. An inexperienced researcher, or one new to local demographic studies, would undoubtedly find such guidance extremely useful.

The study investigates the combined influence of the ancient trackway of the Icknield Way in northern Hertfordshire and Ermine Street that crossed the Icknield Way at Royston, building on ideas first promoted by Charles Phythian Adams regarding the influence of watersheds and perceived obstacles on cultural boundaries. Most authors who have looked at this issue have done so by investigating marriage horizons, and Bysouth’s study is no exception. The introduction surveys some of the literature on marriage horizons and migration, and establishes the characteristics of nineteenth-century Hertfordshire. Bysouth writes with purpose and efficiency, rapidly establishing the significance of his research. Chapter 2 reviews the Hertfordshire evidence for parochial endogamy rates. Endogamy rates in Hertfordshire were generally lower than reported by Phythian Adams for Claybrooke Parva in Leicestershire, varying from 53 per cent to 82 per cent in the sample parishes. However, endogamy rates were generally higher in the larger parishes, and in most parishes endogamy rates fell during the nineteenth century. Having established the aggregate overview, Bysouth discusses several case-studies of individual surname groups, which he refers to as ‘dynastic’ families (those that were established and of long-standing). He convincingly shows that surnames remained very strongly associated with single parishes, with a number of these core families exhibiting very high endogamy rates.

Chapter 3 discusses the marriage horizons of exogamous marriages. Much of this lengthy chapter is occupied by ‘diagrammatic maps’ designed to show the geographical spread of marriage horizons from each of the sample parishes. This is not always successful and the casual reader, or those unfamiliar with the geography, might need to work hard to get a sense of the overall pattern. Nevertheless, it is clear that Icknield Way did have a very strong influence on marriage horizons in rural villages, though its influence on the marriage horizons of the market towns of Baldock and Royston was negligible. Ermine Street, on the other hand, had little effect on marriage horizons. Chapter 4 investigates literacy rates of marriage partners by using the sometimes contested method of counting those who signed their own name in the register. Overall, literacy rates were in the range 47 to 72 per cent for the sample parishes in 1800-1899. Generally, literacy was higher in the market towns than rural villages, while male literacy rates were higher than female rates in towns and lower in rural villages. Literacy among endogamous marriage partners was generally lower than for exogamous marriage partners. There was, however, a clear upward trend across all parishes during the nineteenth century, with rural rates typically increasing from 20-30 per cent in 1800 to 85- 95 per cent in the 1890s, and the market towns increasing from about 40 per cent to around 95 per cent over the same period.

Chapter 5 looks at the occupations of exogamous and endogamous marriage partners, and extends the investigation of literacy by examining different occupational groups. Bysouth has taken the unnecessary step of presenting some data in both tables and charts, so the space devoted to tables and charts is double that for text (much of which simply repeats the figures provided in the tables). The quality of the research is not in question, but this chapter perhaps more than any other lacks the accessible commentary that the analysis and argument require. Nevertheless, it is clear that there was a strong positive correlation between migration and literacy, with the most distant bridegrooms in both rural parishes and market towns displaying higher literacy than endogamous marriage partners and closer migrants in almost all occupational groups. Chapter 6 looks at the census evidence for migration in one of the sample parishes, Sandon. In contrast to the previous chapter, this chapter lacks tabulation. The advantage of census analysis over parish register analysis is that it can provide an indication of couples who had migrated into an area after marriage, or of Sandon-born couples who had migrated elsewhere and subsequently returned. In 1851 one quarter of couples had neither partner born in Sandon, in 1881 only 16 per cent. Overall, this feels like a chapter too many: Bysouth has not made full use of the census nor has he really integrated this chapter with the rest of the study.

The conclusion succinctly summarises the major findings of the research, highlighting the role of Icknield Way and literacy in determining the marriage horizons of these sample parishes. The book is rounded off by more than fifty pages of appendices, giving the reader ample opportunity to rework and present the data. It is undoubtedly of immense value and will reward the careful and patient reader who is prepared to engage with the text and the many tables, charts and diagrams. It is not a straightforward book and it requires some effort on the part of the reader, partly because of a succession of minor errors which are a constant irritation. The text would have benefited from much closer proofreading and the application of consistent conventions. More serious is the sheer density of the text: the style, and obsession with presenting every scrap of evidence, render the argument less accessible than it could have been. It could have been communicated much more succinctly and clearly. There is the basis here of an important article on nineteenth-century marriage horizons, but the significant evidence needs to be extracted from the rest and the argument expressed without being obstructed by evidence occasionally bordering on the antiquarian. The book reads like a master’s dissertation. It is a very good piece of postgraduate work, and the research warrants publication, but it is presented as if for assessment. Much more effort should have gone into producing an accessible text, for as it stands this study is unlikely to receive the attention and recognition it deserves from a wide audience of local historians.
 

ANDY GRIT

Andy Gritt is director of the Institute of Local and Family History at the University of Central Lancashire where he is a senior lecturer in history. He has published articles on various aspects of rural history and population history in Economic History Review, Agricultural History Review, Rural History and Local Population Studies.

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