Chapter 5 layers in investigation of notions of empire and longevity, examined here through the lens of more mundane and pervasive structures—its streets and public highways—to reckon with the attenuated and amalgamated temporalities that these infrastructures construct through the accumulation of large- and small-scale acts of maintenance and repair and the referencing of those interventions by milestone monuments in the extra-urban landscape.

This chapter explains the origins of the Estates General, in practice from the 1484 meeting, and how deputies were chosen, how the meetings of the Estate General operated, and why kings convoked them in its 1560, 1561, 1576, 1588–1589, and 1614 meetings. It also explains the differences between the Estates General and meetings of provincial estates and bailiwick assemblies.

At the beginning of the nineteenth century, the Ottoman Empire was composed of a patchwork of different polities. In the aftermath of the early nineteenth-century Napoleonic wars (1803–1815), the Ottoman state began to expand its control over its hinterlands. The violent centralization by three succeeding sultans between 1839 and 1876 might be compared to the centralization efforts of Germany, France, and Italy. In each of these cases, independent or semi-independent principalities were seized by the expanding power centers of Berlin, Paris, and the Piedmont. The processes that unfolded across Eurasia bore striking similarities due to three technologies. These technologies – firearms, steamboats, and the telegraph – were used to centralize Ottoman authority in the mountains. Through these technologies, the Ottoman state was able to first conquer and then, over the course of decades, entrench state rule in areas that had hitherto been autonomous. From the point of view of the inhabitants of highlands, this period of centralization or reordering (Tanzimat) represented nothing short of a violent conquest by the state. The Ottoman conquest of the mountains laid the groundwork for subsequent violence by dividing mountain people against each other.

The conquest of the mountains was represented in very different ways. Within a year of the violence, two broad stories had coalesced. As the Ottoman state monopolized the legitimate use of violence, it also sought to monopolize the use of narrative. Through tight control over the medium of print, it censored narratives deemed dangerous or seditious. Zeki Paşa, the commander of the Fourth Army, wrote the legitimized account of the Sasun violence. His account whitewashed all Ottoman culpability and placed the blame on Armenian "bandits." The other story emerged from the British press, which was not a monolith. The liberal press looked with suspicion at the Ottoman government and with sympathy at the Armenian population of the Empire. The conservative press urged the public to consider the Sultan as a well-meaning ruler and a key ally against Russian aggression. Some conservatives cast doubt on Armenian sources as suspect due to their "racial propensity" for deception. Two experienced journalists were able to reach the Ottoman east and reported detailed accounts based on interviews with Ottoman soldiers and Armenian survivors. The account of an Ottoman-born missionary became the contrasting narrative to the legitimized narrative of the Ottoman state.

This introduction begins by explaining the role of consumers and consumption in both pre-industrial and modern economies, with particular emphasis on the decisive role of the peasantry. The book is framed within a paradigm shift that recognises medieval peasants as key agents of social and economic change. This chapter provides a state-of-the-art review of the connection between consumption, material culture, and living standards in scholarship, identifying gaps and unanswered questions that this book seeks to address. It also highlights the significance of food-related possessions in the material culture of ordinary people, the region under analysis (the Kingdom of Valencia), and the sources under examination (probate inventories, public auction records, and others). The introduction concludes with a general outline of the book’s four parts and presents the central argument: that peasant decision-making as consumers during the later Middle Ages had a positive impact on the overall economic development of a leading Mediterranean polity – thus revealing the power of peasant consumers.

Chapter 6 digs deeper into the textual conventions deployed in many of the monumental inscriptions set up on restored structures. In particular, it points to how they responded to and influenced the experience of the inexorable degradation of time through a rhetoric of ruin and fragmentation that both naturalized and justified the form or extent of rebuilding and in late antiquity shifted to increasingly vivid, sensorially affective forms.

While French political discourse in the late Middle Ages had been based on ancient Roman ideas that government existed for the common good (le bien public, or la chose publique, a French translation of the Latin res publica), these ideas began to evolve in the 1570s. Although references to the common good continued to be used right up to the French Revolution, they were gradually overtaken by a focus on the good of the State (le bien de l’État). James B. Collins demonstrates how this evolution in language existed at every social level from the peasant village up to the royal court. By analyzing the language used in scores of local, regional and national lists of grievances presented to provincial estates and the Estates-General, Collins demonstrates how the growth was as much a bottom-up process as a top-down enforcement of royal power.

The ‘revolution in semidurables’ (in objects made of earthenware or glass) was, as we contend in this chapter, one of the most visible aspects of the power attained by peasant consumers. The extent of the development of these industries to satisfy growing demand was a distinctive reaction by producers in the late medieval European context, for pottery and glass manufactures were more developed and had a longer tradition in the Mediterranean space. The Islamic inheritance and know-how provided Valencian craftsmen with a genuine means of attracting the attention of peasant consumers who possessed a growing desire for novelties. Such changes also had implications for durable materials, like objects made of wood, copper, and iron, leading some food-related objects made of them to be consumed less.

Chapter 3 focuses on the mechanisms through which certain special temple buildings were invested with an essential "prospective" role for empire and how in the face of crisis—especially the physical destruction of the buildings along with the challenge to the claims for continuity and security that came with them—those mechanisms were renewed or transformed.