User:Ttocserp/sandbox: Difference between revisions – Wikipedia

Syntax

First time <ref name=”JBaz”>{{cite etc}}</ref>

Other times <“JBaz” /> This is self-closing; do not use </ref>

History

Thames embankments at Westminster (Wenceslaus Hollar, 1641)
At Limehouse, 1750. Notice the ladders.

“The Embankment” (capitalised) is usually taken to refer to the civil engineering works in central London implemented under the superintendence of Sir Joseph Bazalgette, but the river Thames as such had been embanked for centuries before that.[1][2]

=Previous embankments

At least one major embankment—in the City—can be traced back to the Roman era,[3] but most were started in the Middle Ages when higher tides began to overflow the river’s natural banks. The increasing tides were (and are) caused by the south-east corner of Great Britain gradually sinking relative to the sea.[4]

The tidal amplitude continued to increase over the centuries, hence the artificial banks were raised to match.[5] Occasional freak tides caused serious flooding; so that, by the beginning of the Victorian era, a widely respected standard was to build embankment walls to a ‘safe’ height 4 feet above above the highest normal[6] tides. The Victoria and Albert Embankments followed the 4-foot standard. Later, Bazalgette realised even that was not enough: the Chelsea Embankment wall was increased to 5. Since then the walls have been raised still further, most recently in 1973; and since 1982 the Thames Barrier, at first rarely needed as a tidal defence, has had to be closed with increasing frequency.

The original embankments had been made by local people who wanted to reclaim marshland along the Thames foreshore, gaining riverfront property. The embankments lined both sides of the river, extending from above London to the river’s mouth in the North Sea. James Walker (engineer) thought that, over hundreds of years, the builders had gradually constrained the originally shallow river to perhaps a fifth of its natural width; the increased hydrodynamic scour had deepened the channel, making it navigable by bigger ships. Thus owing to human intervention, the Thames in the London region, originally perhaps 1 km wide, is today basically a tidal canal flowing between solid artificial walls.[7]

Defects

The river Thames in central London at start of Victorian era: uneven embankments, few coastal roads. Notice enormous sandbank accumulated between Waterloo snd Blackfriars Bridges.

In some ways the ancient embankments of the Thames were an impressive achievement. But because they had been built in an uncoordinated way by local people who were pursuing their own interests, they had two major defects.

  • Irregularity. The banks of the Thames in London were highly irregular and uneven. Some parts of the river were twice as wide as nearby parts. Malodorous mud tended to accumulate in the wide parts, interfering with the navigation.
  • Lack of coastal roads. Although in legal theory the banks of the Thames were a public highway, in reality the law was ignored and the banks were treated as private property. Thus with few exceptions there were no public roads alongside the river. This meant that the nearest public highway on the north bank was the Strand, which became highly congested. There was nowhere to build an intercepting sewer without causing major traffic disruption.

Innovation

What the new embankments did that had not been done before, was to provide more than 3 miles of spacious public roadways alongside the riverfront in central London. They subsumed some of the existing embankments, straightening out numerous irregularities. Of more pressing importance, the Victoria Embankment provided an opportunity to construct a much-needed intercepting sewer to deal with a growing sanitary crisis. As a bonus it carried London’s second underground railway.

Previously, when Thames foreshore had been reclaimed by embankation, the newly recovered land had become the private property of the builders. The Victoria Embankment had recovered 37 acres and there had been numerous proposals to pay for the scheme by privatising the land. However “it had been left to a public body, having funds, to expend those funds for the public good”, said Sir James Bazalgette, which he thought a matter for congratulation.

The Victoria, Albert and Chelsea Embankments deserve to be considered separately since these three works were built neither for a uniform purpose nor to a uniform design, as Sir James Bazalgette himself pointed out. For example the Albert Embankment contained no sewer and was not very effective for preventing floods, not having been intended for that purpose.

Previous public works

Prior to the Thames Embankment there had been a few attempts

which had increased.[8] and by the beginning of the Victorian era a fairly secure standard had been achieved.
for flood-prevention, since the Thames was tidal; as the tides increased over the centuries the embankments were gradually raised to match.[9] They extended from above London to the river’s mouth in the North Sea.

[10] and by the beginning of the Victorian era a fairly secure standard had been achieved.

Existing embankments

The already existing embankments lined both sides of the river from above London to its mouth in the North Sea. A few stretches were works paid for out of the public purse; more were private works authorised by Parliament; but most were unofficial initiatives by farmers or other local people who wanted to recover marshland or get more riverfront property.

Public or authorised works

Victorian engineer John Baldry Redman said “In all there were about 10 miles of comparatively modern quays preceding the [Bazalgette] embankments”. They included an embankment from the Tower to the Temple, the Millbank, works in the London docks, and several others.

Vernacular embankments

Redman then added:

But those works were altogether thrown into the shade by the early embankments of the lower reaches of the Thames—what were locally called sea-walls—which might be considered pre-historic, there being no record of their formation. They were amongst the most marvellous works of their times… Those embankments, about 100 miles in length on the two sides, excluded about 30 square miles of tidal water.[11]

Their chief purpose was flood protection. They often supported trackways, but seldom four-wheeled vehicular traffic. In 1842, James Walker (engineer) had written of those ancient embankments:

it is evident that great labour and skill have been applied to confine [the river] within its present banks, which, from London to the mouth of the river, a length of 40 miles, are chiefly artificial. The probability is that gradually, as the embankments were raised, the ground at the back of them became higher … notwithstanding which, the marshes are still from 6 to 7 feet under the level of an average spring tide, and 9 or 10 feet under the highest tides… so that, if the artificial embankments were cut through, the Thames would, at the very next tide, take possession of the large space which has been so long abstracted from it, and would be generally five times its present width.

To prevent such a calamity it was the duty of the Commissions of sewers to see the banks were kept in good repair, in which they were so diligent that “During the thirty years that I have been engineer to the commissioners for the part of the river extending from London to below Dagenham, a distance of from 20 to 30 miles, no breach of any consequence has taken place.[12]

Motives for constructing the Bazalgette embankments

The Victoria, Albert and Chelsea embankments, which extended along 312 miles of river front and recovered 52 acres (21 hectares) of land, were not constructed for a uniform purpose.[13]

Bank straightening

Because local embanking initiatives had never been coordinated, the width of the river in the mid Victorian era was highly variable. At Charing Cross it was more than twice as wide as at Millbank, for example. The irregularity made for problems. The water ran deep in the narrow parts; not so in the wide parts, where insalubrious mud accumulated, interfering with navigation. Walker recommended straightening the river along more natural lines.[14] The Bazalgette project was to follow these.[15]

Traffic congestion

At the beginning of the Victorian era the river Thames was still London’s principal highway. The banks of the Thames were private property

Sewage disposal

The most pressing problem was sewage disposal, which started to become acute around the middle of the nineteenth century. Until 1815 a sewer was merely a ditch or conduit for draining surface runoff water from land; the word had no sanitary connotation; human waste had to be collected in cesspits, which were periodically cleaned out by gangs of men who sold the product as agricultural fertiliser; it was illegal to dump it in the sewers. Thus the river Thames, though standing beside the world’s largest city, was reasonably clean, and supported a substantial fishing industry.

The cesspits were odoriferous, however, and a mistaken medical theory held that bad smells spread diseases. Hence the practice changed and it became first permissible, then compulsory, to discharge organic waste into the London sewers. Since these had always outfallen into the Thames it came to be that 600,000 tons of raw sewage were dumped in the river daily.

Raw sewage was discharged into the Thames along both banks in central London, presenting a disagreeable aspect and a health hazard. Bazalgette’s Metropolitan Board of Works proposed a scheme of intercepting sewers which would discharge effluent further down the river. There was no major engineering problem south of the river

Sources

  • Dale, Hylton B. (1922). “The Worshipful Company of the Woodmongers and the Coal Trade of London”. Journal of the Royal Society of Arts. 70 (3648): 816–823. JSTOR 41355975.
  • Porter, Dale H. (1998). The Thames Embankment: Environment, Technology and Society in Victorian London. Akron, Ohio: University of Akron Press. ISBN 1-884836-29-1.

Southwark

n. The London Bridge area around AD 50. “Southwark was a low-lying expanse of sandy riverine islands, or eyots, interspersed with braided channels; a shifting landscape with extensive mudflats inundated at high tide”. Modern features located for comparison:

Turn performance

Although the Hawker Hurricane did not have the speed or climb rate of the Supermarine Spitfires or the Messerschmidt Bf 109, its lower wing loading meant that it was able to turn in a tighter circle, an important advantage in some phases of fighter combat.[16] It has sometimes been claimed the Bf 109 could turn inside the Hurricane, a matter considered below.

Significance

Fighter aircraft have been classified into turn performance and energy performance types; the latter have higher speeds and can climb faster; but the former have better instantaneous turn, and a tighter sustained turn radius.[17]

From the early 1930s onwards, in what aeronautical engineer Georg Hans Madelung called the “speed craze”, fighter designers prioritised maximum speeds and climb rates. Not until much later was there a general requirement for a better balance of performance, reducing wing loads to get extra agility in the turn.[18]

In the Battle of Britain the Hurricanes were assigned to a defensive role i.e. they were encouraged to seek out enemy bombers not fighters.[19] The bombers were escorted by fighters, often Messerschmidt Bf 109s or Bf 110s, whose task, therefore, was to attack any incoming Hurricanes. A standard fighter manouevre, taught to most fighter pilots, was to attack from astern, preferably by ambush from above. If the attacker was not seen coming in and could get close enough the result was probably a victory. If, however, he was seen in time, the basic evasive manouevre was the break, in which the defending aircraft turned hard in the direction of the attacker, if possible getting onto his tail.[20]

Wrote Pilot Officer Geoffrey Page:

In the Hurricane we knew that the Me 109 could out-dive us, but not out-turn us. With that knowledge, one obviously used the turning manouevre rather than trying to beat the man at the game in which he was clearly superior. With a 109 sitting behind you, you’d stay in a really tight turn, and after a few turns the position would be reversed and you’d be on his tail.[21]

Turning radius of Hurricane and other Battle of Britain fighters

An aircraft’s minimum turning radius cannot be quoted as a single number since it varies with altitude and loading. Accurate historical data are sparse because they were not published at the time, presumably for security reasons, or later for lack of archival research.[22][23]

In May 1940 a Messerschmidt Bf 109E3 captured by French forces was tested against a Hurricane, both flown by British pilots. The pilots reported that the Messerschmidt was faster than the Hurricane, and could out-climb and out-dive it, but could not turn as well. In climbing and diving turns at high speed, although the Bf 109 was placed line astern to start with, it could not keep the Hurricane in its gunsights and the latter was able to get onto its tail in only four turns. However, these trials were restricted to below 15,000 feet owing to lack of oxygen equipment.[24]

Likewise, a RAF Fighter Command report stated that “the Hurricane will easily out-turn the Spitfire in a simple tailchase, and bring guns to bear in two or three turns”.[25]

However in 1967,[26] in The Hawker Hurricane I (Profile Publications, No. 111, an 18-page booklet), aviation author Francis K. Mason wrote:[27]

Much has been written of the relative manouevrability of the four principal Battle of Britain fighters. Published here for the first time are comparative turning radii attainable, resolved to a combat altitude of 10,000 feet—the most common area of combat chosen by the Hurricane pilots in 1940 … if and when the choice was theirs. True airspeed, 300 m.p.h.

CL 12 ρ v2 Wing loading at half-fuel weight “Available g” Turning Radius
Hurricane I 1.0 170 22 lb./sq. ft. 7.5 800 feet
Spitfire I 1.0 170 24 lb./sq. ft. 7.0 880 feet
Bf 109E 1.0 170 25 lb./sq. ft. 8.1 750 feet
Bf 110C 1.0 170 32 lb./sq. ft. 5.2 1,210 feet

Mason did not state his sources. His numbers were repeated in Len Deighton‘s 1977 book Fighter,[28] achieving wider publicity.[29] They were criticised by Ackroyd and Lamont of the Aerospace department of Manchester University, who said Mason had arrived at them by calculation, which calculations were flawed.

According to them, to arrive at those values Mason had assumed the aircraft were flown at 300 m.p.h. while in a sustained angle of bank so steep – about 80° – that the g forces would have been “beyond the limits of any pilot at that time and most probably beyond the structural limits of the aircraft”. Further, none of the aircraft engines could have delivered the required thrust, since far more power is required to overcome aircraft drag in a very steep turn.[30]

Recalculating for speeds actually achievable with those engines, and assuming the aircraft were flown at maximum power as near to the stall as possible, again at 10,000 feet, Ackroyd and Lamont arrived at the following among other parameter values:

n (≅”available g”)[31] Angle of bank Turning radius
Hurricane I (Late) 2.80 69.1° 202 m (663 ft)
Spitfire IA 2.74 68.6° 209 m (686 ft)
Messerschmidt Bf109E-3 2.67 68.0° 260 m (853 ft)
Messerschmidt Bf 110C-4 2.64 67.8° 256 m (840) ft)

They accepted those were still only estimates, but believed them to provide a reasonable assessment. They tended to be confirmed by a contemporaneous flight report on a captured Bf109 E-3.[32]

Sources

  • Ackroyd, J.A.D.; Lamont, P.J. (2000). “A comparison of turning radii for four Battle of Britain fighter aircraft”. The Aeronautical Journal. 104 (1032): 53–8. doi:10.1017/S0001924000017784.
  • Caygill, Peter (2005). Flying to the Limit: Testing World War II Single-Engined Fighter Aircraft. Pen and Sword Books. ISBN 9781783409358.
  • Deighton, Len (1977). Fighter: The True Story of the Battle of Britain. London: Jonathan Cape. ISBN 0-224-01422-6.
  • Delve, Ken (2024). The Story of the Spitfire: An Operational and Combat History. Yorkshire and Philadelphia: Air World. ISBN 978-1-03615–004-4.
  • Dibbs, John; Holmes, Tony; Riley, Gordon (2017). Hurricane: Hawker’s Fighting Legend. Bloomsbury. ISBN 9781472822963.
  • Madelung, G.O. (1978). “Characteristics of Fighter Aircraft”. Journal of Aircraft. 15 (3): 129–133. doi:10.2514/3.58329.
  • Mason, Francis K. (n.d.). The Hawker Hurricane I. Vol. 111. Leatherhead, Surrey: Profile Publications.{{cite book}}: CS1 maint: year (link)
  • Rigby, David J. (1990). “Hawker’s Wonderful Hurricane”. Air Power History. 37 (2): 26–28. JSTOR 26271114.
  • Spick, Mike (2021). Luftwaffe Fighter Aces: The Exploits and Tactics of Germany’s Greatest Pilots. New York: Frontline Books. ISBN 978-1-5107-5436-2.

A Royal Commission was appointed to inquire into the system under which sewage was discharged into the Thames by the MBW, and whether any evil effects resulted therefrom. The Commission reported (February 1884) that although the sewerage works were highly creditable and had been of great benefit to the metropolis, there were a number of problems. Sewage from the northern outfall was being partly discharged over the foreshore and not through submerged pipes as originally intended. Crude sewage was being discharged throughout the year without attempting to separate the solids. The tide was carrying effluent a long way up from the outfalls, almost as high as Teddington, oscillating back and forth for a long period before getting out finally to sea. In hot and dry weather there was a serious nuisance, the smell being very offensive. For 15 miles below the outfalls, fish had disappeared.

Royal Commission (1884). “Metropolitan Sewage Discharge”. The British Medical Journal. 1 (1207): 333–4. JSTOR 25265644.

Intuitive explanation (simplified)

Significance

Carnot’s engine is important in the history and reasoning of science. Richard Feynmann said “The science of thermodynamics began with an analysis, by the great engineer Sadi Carnot, of the problem of how to build the best and most efficient engine”.

It can be proved that no heat engine can be more efficient than a Carnot engine. Thus it represents the ideal with which all practical fuelled engines can be compared.

Carnot’s concept

Heat engines

“Every one knows that heat can produce motion”, began Carnot. A heat engine is one that converts heat into motion. The heat engines of his day (1824) were mostly steam engines. Fundamental to the Industrial Revolution, they had been greatly improved by British engineers, said Carnot, without really understanding the theory of what they were doing. Other driving fluids had been tried instead of steam, for instance, air. Carnot pointed out that anything that exerts a force when heated and cooled might be used, e.g. alcohol or mercury vapor; even a solid metallic bar. Regardless of such secondary details, his question was: Can heat engines be improved indefinitely? Or will we run up against a fundamental limit beyond which it is impossible to go? What is the principle?

Heat can do no work unless it goes to a cooler place

Carnot showed, first, that heat by itself can never produce motion: it must also have a cooler place to go to. It was so for the common steam engine, where heat was generated in the furnace and ended in the condenser, but he proved it must be true for all heat engines that could possibly be devised. He did it by imagining an engine so perfectly sealed off from the outside world that heat cannot escape. Then the fluid can never cool down – so the piston cannot retract. Such an engine could deliver no power. “It is necessary that there should also be cold; without it, the heat would be useless”.

Thus all heat engines derive their power by exploiting the difference in temperature between a hot place and a cool place. (This insight was afterwards used to formulate what is considered a fundamental law of the universe, the Second Law of Thermodynamics. It can be generalised to apply not only to heat engines but to all possible generators of power.)

The cycle can be run in reverse

Next, Carnot reasoned that the cycle can be made to work in reverse. By forcing the engine to run backwards we can make heat go from the cool place to the hot place, though it is going to cost us some power to turn the engine. Provided we pay this price, the cool place will be made even cooler (as in a refrigerator) and the hot place will be made hotter. In effect, Carnot had invented the heat pump.

(This insight – that one cannot convey heat from a cool to a warm place, except by expending energy, lies at the heart of another way of stating the Second Law of Thermodynamics.)

Maximum efficiency

Lastly, by paying careful attention to what happens to the fluid in the cylinder as the piston is taken round the complete cycle, Carnot realised that some of the heat is being “wasted” – it escapes to the cool place without doing any useful work. The “waste” occurs whenever it is allowed to heat up the fluid instead of doing work. This fraction of the heat merely warms the parts and is eventually lost to the cool region. The perfect engine would be designed to reduce this dissipation to an unavoidable minimum.

Carnot devised the ideal cycle for doing this. The details are shown in the diagram elsewhere in this article. Such an engine is today called a Carnot engine. A simple thought experiment showed that no engine can be more efficient than this. For, if one existed, it could drive the Carnot engine backwards, and

Further, a simple mathematical calculation showed that the maximum efficiency any engine can possibly have is dictated by the difference in temperature between the hot and the cool region, and nothing else. The formula is given elsewhere in this article.

Modern understanding

Carnot wrote at a time when heat was widely understood to be a kind of invisible substance, called caloric. Today we think of it as a form of energy, which either can be converted in other forms of energy, such as work, or to used change the temperature of a body. We can now say that in the perfect engine – the Carnot engine – heat is, insofar as possible, converted into work.

Sources

Kerker 1960

Interpretations

Recruitment tool

Jovita Feitosa turned up an opportune moment for the war effort, since recruitment was faltering. It has been argued that she was made a tool of recruitment propaganda and used to manipulate public opinion (though she herself had not intended this). Here was a country girl from a remote part of the Empire who had disguised herself as a man in order to enlist: an example to encourage timorous male volunteers[34]: 196  and shame draft-dodgers. That was why she was fêted and accompanied by newspaper reporters everywhere she went – her tour through the northern provinces has been described as a “veritable circus” – and granted an audience by the Emperor Pedro II himself.[35]

She began to divide public opinion, however; there were many discordant voices, and some even questioned her motives for joining, saying she did it to follow a lover. It was asked how she had been made a sergeant, quite a difficult promotion for male soldiers and one never granted to raw recruits. There was anyway a proper role for women in war but it did not include combat. The author and soldier Alfredo D’Escragnolle Taunay wrote that “she should have remembered that for a woman it is more noble to heal wounds than to open them”. On 16 September 1865 the war department ruled that to allow her to be a combatant was contrary to military regulations, though it did not forbid her to go to the theatre of war in some other role, e.g. nursing, which was a longstanding Brazilian tradition. (According to historian Francisco Doratioto, she did become a nurse;[36] some sources say she did go to Paraguay in that role, between August and December 1865.[34]: 196 ) Upon ceasing to be useful to the authorities she was allowed to drop out of the news; hence her subsequent history is obscure. Returning to her home province, she was not well received by her father. Her suicide was reported in the local newspaper on 16 November 1867. She received a pauper’s funeral.[35] Some said she returned to Rio de Janeiro, where she was abandoned by her lover, an English engineer; others, that she died in a house fire.[34]: 196 

Archetype

The figure of Jovita can also be seen as an archetype that recurs in Western[37] culture, namely the warrior-maiden; she has been called the Brazilian Joan of Arc.[34]

Sources

Carvalho, José Murilo de (2022). Jovita Alves Feitosa: Voluntária da pátria, Voluntaria da morte (in Portuguese). São Paulo: Chão. ISBN 978-6580341009.

------------

Charivari

Sources

xx

xxx

The question is not what the war is called in this or that South American republic, but what it is called in the English language, this being En:Wikipedia. A subsidiary question is which name is most useful for an English encyclopedia.

As to that:

1. “Paraguayan War” is the preferred usage in the English language, certainly in serious scholarly writing.

The JSTOR library is a database of nearly all recent high-quality scholarly articles in the English language. The facts speak for themselves:

Articles in JSTOR database that mention the phrase at least once:
“paraguayan war” “war of the triple alliance” “triple alliance war”
in title 49 7 2
anywhere in article 1,069 450 2

(Source: JSTOR, interrogation of search engine provided, 29 April 2024, all articles.)

The larger (albeit lower quality) Google Scholar database paints a broadly similar picture:

Google Scholar hits
“paraguayan war” “war of the triple alliance” “triple alliance war”
3,880 2,610 814

Likewise, there are clearly more books with “Paraguayan War” in the title, than “War of the Triple Alliance.
(Source: Google Books, interrogate intitle:field.)

2. “War of the Triple Alliance” is parochial.

Outside South America there have been many triple alliances, so “War of the Triple Alliance” lacks context.

The 1864-1870 war is little known outside South America.[44] By itself, the title “War of the Triple Alliance” doesn’t tell the international reader anything. Which triple alliance? There have been quite a few in human history. To suppose “Triple Alliance”, without context, must mean the South American one, is parochial. “Paraguayan War” at least points the reader to the right continent.

3. “War of the Triple Alliance” is less accurate. The Paraguayan War began in 1864; there was no Triple Alliance until 1865.

4. The title “War of the Triple Alliance” can be ideologically loaded. It was increasingly hijacked by the revisionists of the 1970s, with their conspiracy theories of an invisible plot to “get” Paraguay. But it was the war that caused the triple alliance, not the other way round. The war actually began and developed in 1864, between Paraguay and Brazil alone; there was no triple alliance then, just a Paraguayan army sacking the Mato Grosso’s capital. Not until after Argentina’s province of Corrientes was invaded in April 1865 did Argentina make an alliance with Brazil – its traditional enemy.[45]: 260, 358 

  1. ^ Bazalgette, Edward (1878). “The Victoria, Albert and Chelsea Embankments of the River Thames”. Minutes of Proceedings of the Institution of Civil Engineers. LIV (IV): 1–60. Retrieved 27 Oct 2025., pp.1, 2.
  2. ^ Porter, Dale H. (1998). The Thames Embankment: Environment, Technology and Society in Victorian London. Akron, Ohio: University of Akron Press. ISBN 1-884836-29-1., pp.109-9.
  3. ^ Archibald, Marion; Lang, Janet R.S.; Milne, Gustav (1995). “Four Early Medieval Coin Dies from the London Waterfront”. The Numismatic Chronicle. 155: 163–200. JSTOR 42668794., p.165. (A mile-long waterfront along Thames Street, London which, starting in the Roman period, was gradually extended into the Thames in the medieval era to create an artificial tract of land up to 100 metres wide.)
  4. ^ Akeroyd, Anne V. (May 4, 1972). “Archaeological and Historical Evidence for Subsidence in Southern Britain”. Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society of London. Series A, Mathematical and Physical Sciences. 272 (1221, A Discussion on Problems Associated with the Subsidence of Southeastern England (May 4, 1972)): 151–169. JSTOR 74025.
  5. ^ Spurrell, F.C.J. (1885). “Early Sites and Embankments on the Margins of the Thames Estuary” (PDF). The Archaeological Journal: 269–303 + 2 maps. Retrieved 10 November 2025., pp. 269, 272, 286-7, 289.
  6. ^ Known as Trinity High Water.
  7. ^ Milne, Gustav (1985). “Port of Roman London” (PDF). ancientportsantiques.com. Retrieved 20 September 2020., p.74.
  8. ^ Walker, James (1842a). “Report on the River (Part 1)”. The Nautical Magazine and Naval Chronicle. London: Simpkin, Marshall: 530–536. Retrieved 27 October 2025.
  9. ^ Spurrell, F.C.J. (September 1885). “Early Sites and Embankments on the Margins of the Thames Estuary” (PDF). The Archaeological Journal: 269–303 + 2 maps. Retrieved 16 July 2020., pp. 270, 271-2, 286.
  10. ^ Walker, James (1842a). “Report on the River (Part 1)”. The Nautical Magazine and Naval Chronicle. London: Simpkin, Marshall: 530–536. Retrieved 27 October 2025.
  11. ^ Redman, John Baldry (1878). “The Victoria, Albert and Chelsea Embankments of the River Thames (discussion)”. Minutes of Proceedings of the Institution of Civil Engineers. LIV (IV): 33–38. Retrieved 27 October 2025.
  12. ^ Walker, James (1842a). “Report on the River (Part 1)”. The Nautical Magazine and Naval Chronicle. London: Simpkin, Marshall: 530–536. Retrieved 27 October 2025.
  13. ^ Bazalgette, Joseph (1878a). “The Victoria, Albert and Chelsea Embankments of the River Thames (discussion)”. Minutes of Proceedings of the Institution of Civil Engineers. LIV (IV): 30. Retrieved 27 Oct 2025., p.30
  14. ^ Walker, James (1842b). “Report on the River (Part 2)”. The Nautical Magazine and Naval Chronicle. London: Simpkin, Marshall: 605–615. Retrieved 27 October 2025.
  15. ^ Bazalgette, Edward (1878). “The Victoria, Albert and Chelsea Embankments of the River Thames”. Minutes of Proceedings of the Institution of Civil Engineers. LIV (IV): 1–60. Retrieved 27 Oct 2025., pp. 2-3, 4, 40, 47}}
  16. ^ Rigby 1990, p.27
  17. ^ Shaw 1985, pp.139-142
  18. ^ Madelung 1978, pp.129-131
  19. ^ Rigby 1990, p.27
  20. ^ Spick 2021, prologue
  21. ^ Dibbs, Holmes & Riley 2017. p.56
  22. ^ Ackroyd 2016, p.75
  23. ^ See also Ackroyd & Lamont 2000, p.53
  24. ^ Caygill 2005, chapter 1
  25. ^ Delve 2024, p.31
  26. ^ Ackroyd & Lamont 2000, p.56. The booklet was undated.
  27. ^ Mason n.d., p.20
  28. ^ Deighton 1977, pp.109 and 113
  29. ^ Ackroyd & Lamont 2000, p.53
  30. ^ Ackroyd & Lamont 2000, pp.53, 54
  31. ^ Ackroyd & Lamont 2000, p.54
  32. ^ Ackroyd & Lamont 2000, p.55
  33. ^ a b c d Wimmer, Norma (2020). “Jovita: a donzela guerreira da guerra do Paraguai”. Olho d’agua (in Portuguese). 11 (2): 194–200. ISSN 2177-3807.
  34. ^ a b Araújo, Johnny Santana de (2022). “A guerra do Paraguai e a construção da imagem de uma voluntária da pátria: o caso Jovita Alves Feitosa (1865-1867)”. Historia y memoria (in Portuguese). 25: 103–137. doi:10.19053/20275137.n25.2022.12835. ISSN 2027-5137.
  35. ^ Doratioto, Francisco (2010). Maldita Guerra: Nueva historia de la Guerra del Paraguay (in Spanish) (4 ed.). Buenos Aires: Emecé. ISBN 978-950-04-2574-2., p.110.
  36. ^ And Eastern e.g. Japanese, Chinese and Indian, though it is not mentioned in the cited source.
  37. ^ Cray, Robert E., Jr. (2002). “Review: Riot and Revelry in Early America by William Pencak, Matthew Dennis and Simon P. Newman”. New York History. 83 (3): 337–339. JSTOR 23183401.{{cite journal}}: CS1 maint: multiple names: authors list (link)
  38. ^ Holmes, William F. (1996). “Charivari: Race, Honor, and Post Office Politics in Sharon, Georgia, 1890”. The Georgia Historical Quarterly. 80 (4): 759–784. JSTOR 40583595.
  39. ^ Irvin, Benjamin H. (2003). “Tar, Feathers, and the Enemies of American Liberties, 1768-1776”. The New England Quarterly. 76 (2): 197–238. JSTOR 1559903.
  40. ^ Johnson, Loretta T. (1990). “Charivari/Shivaree: A European Folk Ritual on the American Plains”. The Journal of Interdisciplinary History. 20 (3): 371–387. JSTOR 204083.
  41. ^ Palmer, Bryan D. (1978). “Discordant Music: Charivaris and Whitecapping in Nineteenth-Century North America”. Labour / Le Travail. 3: 5–62. JSTOR 25139907.
  42. ^ Pencak, William; Dennis, Matthew; Newman, Simon P., eds. (2002). Riot and Revelry in Early America. The Pennsylvania University Press.
  43. ^ *Whigham, Thomas L.; Kraay, Hendrik (2004). “Introduction: War, Politics and Society in South America”. In Kraay, Hendrik; Whigham, Thomas L. (eds.). I Die with my Country: Perspectives on the Paraguayan War, 1864-1870. Lincoln and London: University of Nebraska. ISBN 0-8032-2762-0., p.1
  44. ^ Whigham, Thomas L. (2018). The Paraguayan War: Causes and Early Conduct (2nd ed.). University of Calgary Press. ISBN 978-1-55238-994-2.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Exit mobile version