Quotulatiousness

January 18, 2020

The innovative 1720s

Filed under: Britain, Health, History — Tags: , , , — Nicholas @ 03:00

In the latest Age of Invention newsletter, Anton Howes says the real Roaring Twenties were back in the eighteenth century:

Last week I called the 1720s an era of schemes. 1720 was the year of the South Sea Company’s crash, as well as the collapse of John Law’s Mississippi Company in France. But the decade saw some oft-neglected innovations too. As I never tire of saying, Britain’s extraordinary acceleration of innovation was about all industries, not just the famous ones of cotton, coal, iron, and steam — a point that the 1720s demonstrate perfectly.

For a start, it was the decade in which smallpox began to be systematically eradicated through inoculation. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, having observed the procedure in the Ottoman Empire, had her daughter inoculated in London following an outbreak in 1721. The same epidemic prompted the trialling of inoculation in New England, and the reports of these successes provided the statistical evidence for it to be more widely spread. Soon, through Lady Montagu’s aristocratic connections, even the royal children were being inoculated. Inoculation was still dangerous — it was decades before non-deadly cowpox was discovered to also confer immunity to smallpox — but the 1720s marked the beginning of the end for one of humanity’s greatest killers.

[…]

Most famous, however, was the search for longitude. When at sea, it was relatively easy to tell how far north or south you were, but not how far east or west. The implications for navigation were immense. William Whiston, a protégé of Newton, was in 1714 instrumental in lobbying for the creation of a substantial government prize for a solution, and spent much of the following decades trying to win it. His earliest proposal, along with the mathematician Humphrey Ditton, was for ships anchored at fixed locations to essentially shoot fireworks at fixed intervals. By comparing the difference between seeing and hearing the flashes, you might calculate your longitude (it’s actually not that dissimilar to the principle that underlies GPS).

Marine chronometer “Copie No. 18″, Thomas Mudge, Jr., Robert Pennington, Richard Pendleton, et al, London, 1795 – Mathematisch-Physikalischer Salon, Dresden.
Photo by Daderot via Wikimedia Commons.

But unlike with the medical advances, the poets were having none of it. As one of them rather crudely put it:

    The longitude miss’d on
    By wicked Will Whiston;
    And not better hit on
    By good master Ditton.
    So Ditton and Whiston
    May both be bepist on;
    And Whiston and Ditton
    May both be beshit on.

Whiston and the other longitude-searchers also investigated using the earth’s magnetic variation — he produced perhaps the first map with isogonic lines, indicating where compass needles dipped — as well as solar eclipses. And as longitude could be found on land by looking at the eclipses of Jupiter’s moons, he tried to develop telescopes so that they could observe such events on the unsteady sea.

Nonetheless, the solution came from one of George Graham’s friends, the clockmaker John Harrison. Starting in the 1720s, Harrison developed a timekeeping device — the marine chronometer — that would keep its accuracy despite the rocking and rolling and atmospheric changes from being at sea. By comparing your local time with the time at Greenwich shown on the chronometer, you could calculate your longitude. (Though by the time his device came into use in the 1770s, another method had been discovered that involved observing the moon).

And of particular interest to woodworkers who also have historical interests:

While scientific minds sought the longitude, consumer items were also being transformed. In the 1720s, a ship’s carpenter to Jamaica, Robert Gillow, was among the first to import mahogany to Britain, creating a tradition of furniture-making in Lancaster that even the fashion-conscious French would come to regard jealously.

January 15, 2020

QotD: Louis XIV and the first accurate maps of France

Filed under: France, History, Humour, Quotations — Tags: , , — Nicholas @ 01:00

In our current age of apps, able to tell us exactly where we are in the world at any time, it’s hard to imagine an era in which most people would never have seen a map. The average English person of the mid-sixteenth century would have had little idea of the overall shape of their own country, let alone a foreign one. And even the merchants and elites who did have access to maps did not have an entirely accurate picture. Before the systematic adoption of trigonometric surveying, as well as the ability to accurately calculate longitude by observing Jupiter’s moons using telescopes, the process involved a lot of guesstimation. When the new techniques were introduced towards the end of the seventeenth century, the results could come as quite a shock. Louis XIV, when shown a revised map of his country, allegedly remarked that he had lost more land to his astronomers than to his enemies. France was a lot thinner than everyone had supposed.

Anton Howes, “The House of Trade”, Age of Invention, 2019-11-13.

December 22, 2019

The North Magnetic Pole … a refugee from Canada’s Arctic

Filed under: Cancon, Russia, Science — Tags: , , , — Nicholas @ 05:00

Colby Cosh on the latest refugee to flee from Canada:

On Dec. 10, the World Magnetic Model used to calibrate compasses was officially updated. The “model” can be thought of as a map that you would use, given your location on or near the Earth’s surface, to find out how many degrees your magnetic compass is off from true geographic north (or south). This ordinarily happens every five years, but the wizards in charge of the system decided to update a year early because the north magnetic pole is moving particularly fast right now.

Positions of North Magnetic Pole of the Earth. Poles shown are dip poles, defined as positions where the direction of the magnetic field is vertical. Red circles mark magnetic north pole positions as determined by direct observation, blue circles mark positions modelled using the GUFM model (1590–1890) and the IGRF-12 model (1900–2020) in 1 year increments. For the years 1890–1900, a smooth interpolation between the two models was performed. The modelled locations after 2015 are projections.
Map by Cavit via Wikimedia Commons.

As most Canadians will have heard, magnetic north is, at the moment, fleeing Canadian territory and heading toward Russia. The rate of change is still very high by historic standards, first established in the early 19th century, but it has slowed just a little. In the year 1900 the pole was firmly in the Canadian Arctic, off Somerset Island. It wandered north, broke out of our high Arctic archipelago in about 2000, and has been streaking Siberia-ward across the open sea at more than 50 km a year since. The time component in the new WMM forecasts a slight slowing over the next five-year period, to about 40 km/yr.

This, like everything else involving Earth’s magnetic field, is a bit of a guess. The WMM has to be updated often because it does incorporate guesswork about the magnitude and direction of changes in the short-term future. The model will be most accurate now, and increasingly less so over the five-year term as the magnetic poles do their little dance — independently, by the way; the magnetic poles are not exactly opposite the Earth from one another, and the “south” one is scooting along much more slowly than the “north.” (Also, the magnetic north pole, the one to which the “north” needle of your compass is attracted, is actually a “south” pole to physicists.)

The truth is that the naive inquirer should not research Earth’s magnetism in the expectation that it is as well understood by scientists as, say, oceanic tides. (You can probably detect that I am talking about myself here.) The question “Why is the magnetic pole leaving Canada?” does not really admit of a solid answer. Maybe it’s the investment climate?

Probably most everybody is dimly aware that the magnetic poles flip outright from time to time — every half-million years on average. But the assumptions embedded in your handheld compass run much deeper than that. The Earth itself is only a big dipole magnet generally, rather than locally, and there is no guarantee of only one “north magnetic pole” as the field is measured near the surface. Competing “north poles” can form. (Which would, at least, let Russia and Canada each have their own …)

September 8, 2019

How Did War Become a Game?

Filed under: Gaming, Germany, History, Military — Tags: , , , — Nicholas @ 02:00

Invicta
Published on 28 Jun 2019

Get your first audiobook and two Audible originals when you try Audible for 30 days. Visit https://www.audible.com/Invicta or text “Invicta” to 500 500!

In this video we continue to take a look at the history of Kriegsspiel and explore the early days of wargaming that eventually gave rise to modern table top games such as Warhammer and Dungeons & Dragons.

Research: Jon Peterson
Script: Invicta
Narration: Invicta
Artwork: Gabriel Cassata
Editing: Invicta

Bibliography
Playing at the World by Jon Peterson
Debugging Game History: A Critical Lexicon by Henry Lowood
War Games: A History of War on Paper by Philipp von Hilgers
Pluie de Balles – Complex Wargames In the Classroom by Jorit Wintjes and, Steffen Pielstrom

July 19, 2019

Forgotten History: Musée de Plans-Reliefs (Paris)

Filed under: France, History, Military — Tags: , , , , — Nicholas @ 04:00

Forgotten Weapons
Published on 18 Jul 2019

http://www.patreon.com/ForgottenWeapons

Cool Forgotten Weapons merch! http://shop.bbtv.com/collections/forg…

Hidden away up on the 4th floor of the Paris Army Museum (in Les Invalides) is the rather unexcitingly-named Musée de Plans-Reliefs. Up here in the dark is a collection of strategic dioramas dating back some 350 years. French King Louis XIV created a workshop to build these 1:600 sale models of the major fortifications around the French coast as a tool for planning military actions. Napoleon resumed the practice in the 1800s, and today the collection includes some 100 different models. Not all of these are on display, but they are quite large and intricately detailed. Truly a hidden gem of military history in the attic of the museum. If you have an opportunity to visit the Paris Musée d’Armée, don’t miss the chance to take an hour or so to see these!

http://www.museedesplansreliefs.cultu…

Contact:
Forgotten Weapons
PO Box 87647
Tucson, AZ 85754

June 5, 2019

The four equal-ish regions of Canada

Filed under: Cancon, Randomness — Tags: , — Nicholas @ 05:00

On Reddit, u/the_vizir posted an interesting illustration of Canada divided into four regions of (approximately) equal population, based on the 2015 electoral map:

[Click to see full-size image]

I used this map of Canada’s Federal ridings by DrRandomFactor as a base. Then I attempted to mirror the original map’s divisions, tallying up the populations of the ridings, as based on this chart from Wikipedia.

Ultimately, the original map proved to be rather accurate in the West, but in the East it was off by quite a bit. Despite my best attempts, I could not get the entire Quebec City to Windsor corridor into two geographically contiguous regions. And so Windsor ultimately got shunted into the Great Orange North.

Interestingly, in terms of ridings, the four regions are also rather equal — which one might consider surprising given the population disparity between the largest and smallest ridings (the least populous riding, Labrador, has 27k people; while Brantford-Brant, the most populous, has 132k). However, in the end, the red region has 80 ridings, the green region 83, the purple region 86 and the orange region 89.

The 25 most populous urban areas within that large, orange region include:

  • Halifax, NS — 404k
  • Windsor, ON — 392k
  • St. John’s, NL — 205k
  • Barrie, ON — 197k
  • Sudbury, ON — 165k
  • Saguenay, PQ — 161k
  • Moncton, NB — 145k
  • Saint John, NB — 126k
  • Thunder Bay, ON –121k
  • Chatham-Kent, ON — 102k
  • Fredericton, NB –102k
  • Cape Breton, NS — 99k
  • Sarnia, ON – 96k
  • Prince George, BC — 86k
  • Sault Ste. Marie, ON — 78k
  • Fort McMurray. AB — 73k
  • North Bay, ON — 70k
  • Charlottetown, PE — 69k
  • Grande Prairie, AB — 63k
  • Rimouski, PQ — 55k
  • Shawinigan, PQ — 54k
  • Leamington, ON — 49k
  • Truro, NS — 46k
  • Prince Albert, SK — 44k
  • Rouyn-Noranda, PQ — 42k

Somewhat surprisingly, even on this list, no communities in the Territories make the cut. The largest urban area in the North, Whitehorse, is still only 39th on this list, between Fort St. John, BC and Baie-Comeau, PQ. Yellowknife is 48th, between North Battleford, SK and Yorkton, SK.

The smallest riding in the orange area is Charlottetown at 46 sq. km, followed by Windsor West at 83 sq. km and Dartmouth-Cole Harbour at 102 sq. km. The largest riding in one of the other regions is Cypress Hills-Grasslands at 77,822 sq. km, followed by Kootenay-Columbia at 60,405 sq. km and Souris-Moose Mountain at 43,184 sq. km. All of these were in the purple region and were, unfortunately, necessary to bridge Winnipeg to the Calgary-Edmonton corridor, and then the Calgary-Edmonton corridor to the Lower Mainland.

(To those just looking for random facts: the smallest riding of them all is Toronto Centre, at 6 sq. km, followed by Papineau at 10 sq. km and both Laurier-Sainte-Marie and Rosemont-La Petite-Patrie at 11 sq. km each. The largest ones are Nunavut at 2,093,190 sq. km, Northwest Territories at 1,346,106 sq. km and Abitibi-Baie-James-Nunavik-Eeyou at 854,754 sq. km. And no, that last one doesn’t have the longest riding name. That would be Leeds-Grenville-Thousand Islands and Rideau Lakes, coming in at 49 characters and beating out the previous champion, West Vancouver-Sunshine Coast-Sea to Sky Country).

H/T to halls of macademia for the link.

October 20, 2018

Don’t waste your time coming up with something original … use this map for your next RPG campaign

Filed under: Gaming, Humour — Tags: , , — Nicholas @ 03:00

The Only Fantasy World Map You’ll Ever Need
by EotBeholder

Thrown together on a whim, yet meeting the needs of busy (or lazy) Dungeon Masters to this day, EotBeholder’s epic “Only Fantasy World Map” has all your role-playing game geography requirements covered.

Here’s something I threw together for the game I’m running with some coworkers. I plotted out where everything was going to go on a world map then decided, yknowwhat, let’s just keep the serial numbers filed off, so now it’s a map good for every RPG setting ever. Starting in the Tiny Bickering Fiefdoms is traditional but anywhere works. (My players are mostly from Tortuga.)

EDIT: Wow, almost four years later and this thing just exploded. The internet is a thing of mysteries. Thank you all! A lot (well, a number) of people have requested a blank version so they can add their own names… yeah, sure thing. To anyone asking for permission to use this for their own campaigns… I mean it hardly qualifies as “original”, so as long as you’re comfortable stealing from someone who steals from the people who only steal from the best, knock yourselves out 🙂

If I could make some additions (which I suppose I could, but, nah) I’d call out the Boring/Doomed Pastoral Village somewhere in the Tiny Bickering Fiefdoms or the Land of Poncy Knights, and also add a Giant Wall to Keep the Monsters Out. Giant walls are so hot right now.

H/T to Rob Beschizza for the link.

October 17, 2018

How Toronto got its name

Filed under: Britain, Cancon, France, History — Tags: , , , — Nicholas @ 03:00

Colby Cosh on the origins of the name of Canada’s largest city (which, surprisingly, isn’t the Mississauga name for “big stink on the water”):

Detail from a 1688 map of western New France by Vincenzo Coronelli that locates “Lac Taronto” at Lake Simcoe.
City of Toronto Culture Division/Library and Archives Canada via the National Post

By the time of Franquelin, “Tkaronto” had already become “Taronto,” a generic name for the highway between Lake Simcoe and Lake Ontario. The Humber River was called the Toronto River by the French before Gen. John Graves Simcoe and the British got hold of everything. The word, in turn, became attached to a trading settlement at the southern end of the trail — a pretty crummy place, by all accounts, but one destined for bigger things as part of a global seafaring empire.

The miracle is that it held on to the name. Simcoe insisted that “Toronto,” on being anointed as the site of the new capital of Upper Canada in 1793, be dubbed “York” in honour of Prince Frederick (1763-1827), Duke of York and second son of George III. This Duke of York is the “Grand Old Duke of York” from the satirical verse about military futility. He was also commander-in-chief of the British armies that helped to chase Napoleon out of Europe twice, and is thought to deserve genuine credit for this, so be careful who you write insulting rhymes about.

Simcoe dubbed Toronto “York” just because he was sucking up to a very identifiable future boss, and for no other reason. The people of Toronto seem to have understood this and resented it. In the decades to come, it was occasionally observed that there were something like a dozen other places in Upper Canada called “York.” Moreover, Simcoe’s “Little York,” as it was often called, seems to have presented an increasingly embarrassing parallel with the Americans’ bustling New York.

In 1834, when the Legislative Council of Upper Canada decided that the capital needed to be formally incorporated as a city, the citizenry remembered that they belonged to “Toronto” and appealed to the council to have the more musical old name restored. Over four decades their annoyance had not receded. Diehards who wanted York to remain York for imperial-grandeur reasons were outvoted, and Toronto’s formal Act of Incorporation observes that “it is desirable, for avoiding inconvenience and confusion, to designate the Capital of the Province by a name which will better distinguish it.” The appellation “Toronto,” of course, had actually been nicked from a spot some way off, but the white settlers had mislaid that information, and didn’t check with anyone who would know better.

July 1, 2018

Mapping medieval trade routes

Filed under: Africa, Asia, Economics, Europe, History — Tags: , — Nicholas @ 05:00

Open Culture linked to a fascinating new map by a Swedish grad student, showing trade routes during the Medieval period:

A small portion of Martin Jan Månsson’s trade map of the Middle Ages.

“I think trade routes and topography explains world history in the most concise way,” Månsson explains in the very small print at the map’s lower right corner. “By simply studying the map, one can understand why some areas were especially important–and remained successful even up to modern times.”

The map covers 200 years, spanning both the 11th and 12th centuries, and “depicts the main trading arteries of the high Middle Ages, just after the decline of the Vikings and before the rise of the Mongols, the Hansa and well before the Portuguese rounded the Cape of Good Hope.”

It also shows the complex routes already available to Africa and Asia, and the areas where Muslim and Christian traders would meet. The open-to-trade Song Dynasty ruled China, and the competitive kingdoms in the Indonesia region provided both Muslims and Europeans with spice.

Looking like a railway map, Månsson’s work shows how interconnected we really were back in the Middle Ages, from Greenland in the west to Kikai and Kagoshima in the East, from Arkhangelsk in the frozen north to Sofala in modern-day Mozambique.

The full-sized, high-resolution map can be downloaded here.

Update: Tim Worstall was kind enough to link to this post and uses Månsson’s map to help explain the gravity model of trade:

A standard observation is that places which are closer together trade with each other more than places which are further apart. Add to that the thought that larger economies will trade more with other larger economies – well, you know, more economic activity means more economic activity – and you get the gravity model of trade. So, therefore Britain’s trade future lies with those places nearby, in the EU, than with places further away like the Commonwealth or the US.

This is, sadly, actually the level of debate over Brexit at times. We should trade with France because it’s 26 miles away, so there. The point being that while the gravity model is true – among the best empirically supported of all economic observations – that’s not actually what it says. Rather, that those places which are closer by trade distance trade more with each other. Trade distance being a more complex point than mere geographical location.

[…]

The point here being that by showing the trade routes it is showing us this trade, or perhaps economic, distance which is what the gravity model is about. Valencia and Palma were very much closer – and trade very much more – than Valencia and Toledo, despite roughly equal distances crowfly wise.

June 30, 2018

Adventures in Sicilian non-verbal communication

Filed under: Europe, Humour, Italy — Tags: , , , , , — Nicholas @ 06:00

At El Reg, Alistair Dabbs recounts some tales from a recent trip to Italy:

This isn’t the first time I have strayed into a Twilight Zone of cross-lingual and intercultural bafflement during this vacation. Throwing caution to the wind a few days earlier, I’d rashly allowed Google Maps to plot a walking route from the centre of Palermo to La Zisa. Why I did this, I cannot say, especially given my poor experience of Google Maps’ walking routes in the past. This is, after all, the app that once directed me to walk through the centre of an unlit Hyde Park at 2am and whose audio inexplicably but routinely barks “Turn left!” when you’re supposed to turn right.

On this occasion, Google Maps decided to take me on a scenic tour of the city’s most impoverished slums. Given that what few pavements existed along the way were knee high in refuse and canine excretia, it was less of a walking route than a wading route. The final 100 metres appeared to be some kind of theme park attraction along the lines of Disney World’s “Pirates of the Caribbean”, except this was “Dope-addled Inbreds of the Mediterranean”.

To access this den of iniquità, I had to pass through one of those pedestrian gates design to stop cyclists from riding through it. It was blocked by a tweenager who’d been trying to ride his bicycle through it and got stuck. The unlikely resolution of such an attempt was emphasised by two obvious challenges: it was an adult bike and the boy was so fat that he looked like an inflatable sofa. Both the bicycle and his body were at least two sizes too big for him.

By waving his arms around, he indicated that I was welcome to pass through the gate. By waving my arms back at him, I indicated that I would certainly do so after he had extricated himself. This attracted some shifty onlookers who helpfully grunted and waved their arms around at both of us until eventually we were all gesticulating like delegates at a semaphore convention.

Fearing an unfortunate outcome from this clash of cultures in unfamiliar territory, I coaxed the fat kid and his bike out of the gate and taught him to play the banjo he was carrying, ending with a spontaneous duet between the two of us. It was only by sheer luck that I’d remembered to pack my bagpipes.

March 24, 2018

James May doesn’t trust Sat Navs | Q&A extras | HeadSqueeze

Filed under: Technology — Tags: , , , — Nicholas @ 02:00

BBC Earth Lab
Published on 27 Sep 2013

Don’t trust the Sat Nav! Speaking from experience, James thinks we shouldn’t blindly trust a machine. Get a map!

February 14, 2018

Viral mapping by Sasha Trubetskoy

Filed under: Australia, Cancon, History, Media — Tags: — Nicholas @ 03:00

Have you seen this map by Sasha Trubetskoy?

Click to embiggen.

It wasn’t the first time one of his maps went viral, but it provided him a key insight into getting his maps in front of a large number of people:

I learned from Reddit that if a Canadian sees something that mentions Canada, they will upvote out of solidarity. You can game that. So I made a map of every Canadian province, if every Canadian province proposal had succeeded. Not many people know Jamaica was going to be part of Canada. That map got me on Huffington Post Canada.

I was like, Canada worked, let’s try Australia. Same idea, every Australian state proposal. That worked too.

A very popular recurring theme in viral maps is a fictional subway network of some sort. I can see why people like that. It’s cute, it’s bright colors, everything’s nice and organized, it’s fun to look at.

Somehow I stumbled upon the idea of representing the ancient Roman road network. I tried to make it look like a modern publication that the actual Roman Empire would have, like little leaflets at the train station. The map is in Latin. I don’t know Latin, but I have a knack for picking up little bits and pieces, maybe born out of necessity from my childhood. My parents come from Moscow, and at home we only spoke Russian. My grandma speaks French.

Latin has six cases, Russian has six cases, and they’re essentially the same. I had an intuition, like, how would I say this in Russian? Then replace the words with Latin. It turns out that’s a fantastic way of doing it.

H/T to Colby Cosh for the link.

January 25, 2018

Looking deeper than just England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland

Filed under: Britain, Humour — Tags: , , , — Nicholas @ 05:00

H/T to @GarethSoye for posting this one (originally from Brilliant Maps):

[Click to see full-sized image]

January 10, 2018

Re-partitioning Australia

Filed under: Australia, Humour — Tags: — Nicholas @ 03:00

Jessica Brisbane posted this to Facebook:

[Click to embiggen]

September 7, 2017

Roman Roads of Britain

Filed under: Britain, History — Tags: , , , — Nicholas @ 04:00

Last month, Colin Marshall shared this post on Open Culture:

[Click to embiggen]

Though some of Britain’s Roman Roads have become modern motorways, most no longer exist in any form but those bits and pieces history buffs like to spot. This makes it difficult to get a sense of how they all ran and where — or at least it did until Sasha Trubetskoy made a Roman Roads of Britain Network Map in the graphic-design style of the subway maps you’ll find in London or any other major city today. Trubetskoy, an undergraduate statistics major at the University of Chicago, first found cartographical fame a few months ago with his “subway map” of roads across the entire Roman Empire circa 125 AD.

“Popular request,” he writes, demanded a Britain-specific follow up, a project he describes as “far more complicated than I had initially anticipated.” The challenges included not just the sheer number of Roman Roads in Britain but a lack of clarity about their exact location and extents. As in his previous map, Trubetskoy admits, “I had to do some simplifying and make some tough choices on which cities to include.” While this closer-up view demanded a more geographical faithfulness, he nevertheless “had to get rather creative with the historical evidence” in places, to the point of using such “not exactly Latin-sounding” names as “Watling Street” and “Ermin Way.”

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