Until the arrival of Sources, the search for non-published archival sources for Ireland was dependent on the famed Hayes Catalogue, a multivolume set consisting of a collated card catalog that had been photographed, printed, and bound in a large folio-sized form.  Needless to say, this was early 20th century technology at its finest, but hardly conducive to today's research by multiple keyword entry points. Moreover, for overseas researchers, unless you were lucky enough to have access to a library who had purchased these volumes, you could plan on several weeks at the start of your research trip trolling through the Hayes volumes when you would have preferred to have your list of manuscripts to consult ready and assembled.

Sources, like many of the newest online catalogs to emerge in recent years (say, the new WorldCat and the British Library database), is formatted around a simple keyword search with the ability to filter instantaneously by selecting subcategories on the margins of the produced results. This, too, has been helpful in that it makes choices about filtering more informed--you can see immediately how many results, for example, would be provided for each filter applied. It also enables you to stumble on tangential sources because it provides a list of potential subject categories related to the results, rather than forcing you to guess subjects, genres, or tags that might bring up such sources. This mitigates a major problem with today's keyword searching, namely that it is so directed that the researcher may no longer stumble upon useful items along their way to the item being sought.

But perhaps most interesting given the worldwide scope of Irish studies is the spatial mapping of archives and the size of their holdings. Here, one learns that wherever one's location, it is likely that there is an archive nearby with some Irish-related material to consult.   

I was able to spend last Sunday with yet another cemetery organization that is putting together some great history-related programs, providing internship opportunities for preservationists and historians, and working to improve surrounding neighborhoods--all while maintaining the grounds of important historic sites.

Shockoe Hill Cemetery is located just north of downtown Richmond, and, as I learned, happens to be the burial place of Chief Justice John Marshall, William Cabell, and a number of other Virginia notables, including Edgar Allan Poe's foster father.

In getting a glimpse behind the scenes with both Congressional and Shockoe Hill Cemeteries in the past six months, I've been truly impressed to see the ways in which the volunteer organizations overseeing these sites have worked hard to diversify and expand their scope.  Congressional Cemetery has put together an elaborate cell-phone tour and website to merge graveyard and museum, while Shockoe Hill has started an event series that included speakers on Poe and Marshall last month.  No doubt their creative teams have a number of future project already in the works that many of us will be interested in.

Many thanks to Doug Welsh, Jeffry Burden, and Ivy Spicer for inviting me in for St. Patrick's Day festivities!

Despite attempts to convince my George Mason study abroad students prior to leaving that Ireland's winters rarely approach the worst in the U.S., we managed to land in the midst of fairly horrific ice in the west and considerable snow in the east.  This picture, taken at Dunguaire castle near Kinvarra, Co. Galway gives some taste of how thick the frost had become by the end of the first week.  Luckily, there was a bit of a thaw about five days ago and by the end of our trip it was back above freezing with just the usual bouts of rain.  Although the cold wreaked absolute havoc with the roads (many closed) and with water supplies (I heard a few people mention that relatives had been without water since Christmas), if there was any bright side to the situation it was the absolutely stunning views of the snow-capped mountains of Connemara:

Aside from adventures abroad, I must also excuse my inattention to the site in past months due to a newly hectic schedule--I will take up a new post this January with the history department at Virginia Commonwealth University. With any luck, I'll be able to make some small contributions a few weeks down the road.

The publication of the 2009 inaugural lecture delivered by Cambridge Regius Professor of Modern History Richard J. Evans has sparked a brief firestorm of controversy regarding perceived slights against non-British academics, but such reactions have missed a more interesting question at the heart of Evans's lecture: is a historian's national identity relevant to his or her field of choice?

The central question posed by Evans focuses on the relative abundance of researchers (some British-born, others not) who specialize in continental European history and who hold posts at British universities, a number he contrasts with the far fewer academics at continental universities working on a field other than their own national history. Indeed, Evans goes further and argues that British historians have attained this position in part because of their insistence on a combination of research rigor and readability that has helped build their international reputation.The concept is interesting, although obviously open to predictable accusations that Evans has unfairly painted a portrait of British academic curiosity and prowess alongside continental insularity. Such, in fact, were the responses on at least one discussion network, H-Albion, in August.

Yet in turning to the details of the published lecture itself, one finds far less controversy than advertised. Certainly, his claims to a uniquely British approach to historical writing that espouses lively prose with archival depth raises eyebrows. But Evans--as well as many of the British academics he cites--never attempts to claim an exclusively British interest in non-domestic history. In fact, he acknowledges that American historians in particular exhibit a disproportionate willingness to study non-domestic topics, especially when it comes to interest in areas of the world outside of the U.S. or Europe.

At the same time, his discussion does raise a key point: what prompts historians to specialize in the history of another country or region? In my experience, such a question rarely sparks discussion within an academic setting, but inevitably arises whenever meeting somebody publicly for the first time. Moreover, aside from the career decisions implicated in any research focus, what relationship, if any, can be expected between a historian's national affiliation and the product of their research? Does living in the U.S. in the 21st century, for instance, make a researcher studying early colonial New England any more capable of interpreting that past than a contemporary historian born and residing in Paris? Can anybody claim a geographic "affiliation" with, say, any medieval or ancient past simply on the basis of his or her place of birth?

Perhaps the items of greatest interest in the Evans lecture are his interviews with a number of historians who struck out to study another country. Accounts of how these researchers first accomplished this leap--and in particular, how they acquired the language skills necessary to do this--makes for engaging (and heartening) reading for anyone who has struggled to replicate this feat.

A few weeks back I had the good fortune to pitch in over at Congressional Cemetery here in southeast Washington, DC by helping with the latest burial vault restoration being undertaken at this historic site.  Between this project and another volunteer opportunity I had with the cemetery earlier in September, I am beginning to appreciate just how much work goes into keeping these types of landmarks in top shape.

Once the site of over fifty brick burial vaults, neglect in decades past and disintegrating mortar joints have caused the collapse of nearly half of the cemetery’s vaults. Since 2008, the cemetery’s directors have been working to preserve the remaining vaults by restoring the brick and replacing missing mortar, and already a number of them have been successfully repaired or are nearing completion.

Despite some occasional rain threats, our day with the Keyworth vault seemed to proceed without a hitch.  Patrick Crowley, the cemetery’s executive chair, managed to document the event nicely, and I left with an even more heightened appreciation of the expertise of the sciences of archaeology and bone forensics. Moreover, the experts from Smithsonian who led the project were most patient with a historian like myself who rarely gets a chance to leave the world of microfilm and old documents for a real-world immersion in material history.  For a story on the project, check here.