George Ernest Spero, the vanishing MP

As part of the ongoing Wikidata MPs project, I’ve come across a number of oddities – MPs who may or may not have been the same person, people who essentially disappear after they leave office, and so on. Tracking these down can turn into quite a complex investigation.

One such was George Ernest Spero, Liberal MP for Stoke Newington 1923-24, then Labour MP for Fulham West 1929-30. His career was cut short by his resignation in April 1930; shortly afterwards, he was declared bankrupt. Spero had already left the country for America, and nothing more was heard of him. The main ambiguity was when he died – various sources claimed either 1960 or 1976, but without it being clear which was more reliable, or any real details on what happened to him after 1930. In correspondence with Stephen Lees, who has been working on an incredibly useful comprehensive record of MP’s death-dates, I did some work on it last year and eventually confirmed the 1960 date; I’ve just rediscovered the notes from this and since it was an interesting little mystery, thought I’d post them.

George Spero, MP and businessman

So, let’s begin with what we know about him up to the point at which he vanished.

George Ernest Spero was born in 1894. He began training at the Royal Dental Hospital in 1912, and served in the RNVR as a surgeon during the First World War. He had two brothers who also went into medicine; Samuel was a dentist in London (and apparently also went bankrupt, in 1933), while Leopold was a surgeon or physician (trained at St. Mary’s, RNVR towards the end of WWI, still in practice in the 1940s). All of this was reasonably straightforward to trace, although oddly George’s RNVR service records seem to be missing from the National Archives.

After the war, he married Rina Ansley (nee Rina Ansbacher, born 14 March 1902) in 1922; her father was a wealthy German-born stockbroker, resident in Park Lane, who had naturalised in 1918. They had two daughters, Rachel Anne (b. 1923) and Betty Sheila (b. 1928). After his marriage, Spero went into politics in Leicester, where he seems to have been living, and stood for Parliament in the 1922 general election. The Nottingham Journal described him as for “the cause of free, unfettered Liberalism … Democratic in conviction, he stands for the abolition of class differences and for the co-operation of capital and labour.” However, while this was well-tailored to appeal to the generally left-wing voters of Leicester West, and his war record was well-regarded, the moderate vote was split between the Liberal and National Liberal candidates, with Labour taking the seat.

The Conservative government held another election in 1923, aiming to strengthen a small majority (does this sound familiar?), and Spero – now back in London – contested Stoke Newington, then a safe Conservative seat, again as a left Liberal. With support from Labour, who did not contest the seat, Spero ran a successful campaign and unseated the sitting MP. He voted in support of the minority Labour government on a number of occasions, and was one of the small number of Liberal rebels who supported them in the final no-confidence vote. However, this was not enough to prevent Labour fielding a candidate against him in 1924; the Conservative candidate took 57% of the vote, with the rest split evenly between Labour and Liberal.

Spero drifted from the Liberals into the Labour Party, probably a more natural home for his politics, joining it in 1925. By the time of the next general election, in May 1929, he had become the party’s candidate for Fulham West, winning it from the Conservatives with 45% of the vote.

He was a moderately active Government backbencher for the next few months, including being sent as a visitor to Canada during the recess in September 1929, travelling with his wife. While overseas, she caused some minor amusement to the British papers after reporting the loss of a £6,000 pearl necklace – they were delighted to report this alongside “socialist MP”. He was last recorded voting in Hansard in December, and did not appear in 1930. In February and March he was paired for votes, with a newspaper report in early March stating that he had been advised to take a rest to avoid a complete nervous breakdown about the start of the year, and had gone to the South of France, but “hopes to return to Parliament before the month is out”. However, on 9th April he formally took the Chiltern Hundreds (it is interesting that a newspaper report suggested his local party would choose whether to accept the resignation).

However, things were moving quickly elsewhere. A case was brought against him in the High Court for £10,000, arising from his sale of a radio company in 1928-29. During the court hearing, at the end of May, it was discovered that a personal cheque for £4000 given by Spero to guarantee the company’s debts had been presented to his bank in October 1929, but was not honoured. He had at this point claimed to be suing the company for £20,000, buying six months legal delay, sold his furniture, and – apparently – left the country for America. Bankruptcy proceedings followed later that year (where he was again stated to be in America) and, unsurprisingly, his creditors seem to have received very little.

At this point, the British trail and the historic record draw to a gentle close. But what happened to him?

The National Portrait Gallery gave his death as 1960, while an entry in The Palgrave Dictionary of Anglo-Jewish History reported that they had traced his death to 1976 in Belgrade, Yugoslavia (where, as a citizen, it was registered with the US embassy). Unfortunately, it did not go into any detail about how they worked this out, and this just heightened the mystery – if it was true, how had a disgraced ex-MP ended up in Yugoslavia on a US passport three decades later? And, conversely, who was it had died in 1960?

George Spears, immigrant and doctor

We know that Spero went to America in 1929-30; that much seemed to be a matter of common agreement. Conveniently, the American census was carried out in April 1930, and the papers are available. On 18 April, he was living with his family in Riverside Drive, upper Manhattan; all the names and ages line up, and Spero is given as a medical doctor, actively working. Clearly they were reasonably well off, as they had a live-in maid, and it seems to be quite a nice area.

In 1937, he petitioned for American citizenship in California, noting that he had lived there since March 1933. As part of the process, he formally notified that he intended to change his name to George Ernest Spears. (He also gave his birthdate as 2 March 1894, of which more later).

While we can be reasonably confident these are the same man due to the names and dates of the family, the match is very neatly confirmed by the fact that the citizenship papers have a photograph, which can be compared to an older newspaper one. There is fifteen years difference, but we can see the similarities between the prospective MP of 27 and the older man of 43.

George Spears, with the same family, then reappears in the 1940 census, back in Riverside Drive. He is now apparently practicing as an optician, and doing well – income upwards of $6000. Finally, we find a draft record for him living in Huntingdon, Long Island at some point in 1942. Note his signature here, which is visibly the same hand as in 1937, except “E. Spears” not “Ernest Spero”.

It is possible he reverted to his old name for a while – there are occasional appearances of a Dr. George Spero, optometrist, in the New York phone books between the 1940s and late 1950s. Not enough detail to be sure either way, though.

So at this point, we can trace Spero/Spears continually from 1930 to 1942. And then nothing, until on 7 January 1960, George E. Spears, born 2 March 1894, died in California. Some time later, in June 1976, George Spero, born 11 April 1894, died in Belgrade, Yugoslavia, apparently a US citizen. Which one was our man?

The former seemed more likely, but can we prove it? The death details come from an index, which gives a mother’s maiden name of “Robinson” – unfortunately the full certificate isn’t there and I did not feel up to trying to track down a paper Californian record to see what else it said.

If we return to the UK, we can find George Spero in the 1901 census in Dover, with his parents Isidore Sol [Solomon], a ‘dental mechanic’, and Rachel, maiden name unknown. The family later moved to London, the parents naturalised, Isidore died in 1925 – and probate goes to “George Ernest Spero, physician”, which seems to confirm that this is definitely the right family and not a different George Spero. The 1901 censuses note that two of the older children were born in Dublin, so we can trace them in the Irish records. Here we have an “Israel S Spero” marrying Rachel Robinson in 1884, and a subsequent child born to Solomon Israel Spero and Rachel Spero nee Robinson. There are a few other Speros or Spiros appearing in Dublin, but none married around the right time, and none with such similar names. If Israel Solomon Spero is the same as Isidore Solomon Spero, this all ties up very neatly.

It leaves open the mystery, however, of who died in Yugoslavia. It seems likely this was a completely different man (who had not changed his name), but I have completely failed to trace anything about him. A pity – it would have been nice to definitively close off that line of enquiry.

Our man in Havana (or, Q56761118)

Has it really been a year since I posted here? Oh, dear. Well. So, this Friday/Saturday I went to the FCO’s hackathon event – wonderfully titled “Who Was Our Man In Havana?” – to have a play with a dataset of British diplomats.

My goal was to try and synch this up with Wikidata in some way – there were obviously some overlaps with the MPs project, but given how closely tied the diplomatic service has been into the establishment, it seemed likely there would be a lot of overlap. The objective of the event was to produce some kind of visualisation/interface, so after a bit of discussion with my team-mates we decided to get the data cleaned up, import some into Wikidata, and pull it out again in an enriched fashion.

The data cleaning was a bit of a challenge. Sev and Mohammed, my team-mates, did excellent work hacking away at the XML and eventually produced a nice, elegantly-parsed, version of the source data.

I uploaded this into Magnus’s mix-and-match tool, using a notional ID number which we could tie back to the records. Hammering away at mix-and-match that evening got me about 400 initial matches to work with. While I was doing this, Sev and Mohammed expanded the XML parsing to include all the positions held plus dates, tied back to the notional IDs in mix-and-match.

On Saturday, I wrote a script to pull down the mix-and-match records, line them up with the expanded parsing data, and put that into a form that could be used for QuickStatements. Thankfully, someone had already established a clear data model for diplomatic positions, so I was able to build on that to work out how to handle the positions without having to invent it from scratch.

The upload preparation was necessarily a messily manual process – I ended up compromising with a script generating a plain TSV which I could feed into a spreadsheet and then manually lookup (eg) the relevant Wikidata IDs for positions. If I’d had more time we could have put together something which automatically looked up position IDs in a table and then produced a formatted sheet (or even sent it out through something like wikidata-cli, but I wanted a semi-manual approach for this stage so I could keep an eye on the data and check it was looking sensible. (Thanks at this point also to @tagishsimon, who helped with the matching and updating on mix-and-match). And then I started feeding it in, lump by lump. Behold, success!

While I was doing this, Mohammed assembled a front-end display, which used vue.js to format and display a set of ambassadors drawn from a Wikidata SPARQL query. It concentrated on a couple of additional things to demonstrate the enrichment available from Wikidata – a picture and some notes of other non-ambassadorial positions they’d held.

To go alongside this, as a demonstration of other linkages that weren’t exposed in our tool, I knocked up a couple of quick visualisations through the Wikidata query tool: a map of where British ambassadors to Argentina were born (mainly the Home Counties and India!), or a chart of where ambassadors/High Commissioners were educated (Eton, perhaps unsurprisingly, making a good showing). It’s remarkable how useful the query service is for whipping up this kind of visualisation.

We presented this on Saturday afternoon and it went down well – we won a prize! A bottle of wine and – very appropriately – mugs with the famed Foreign Office cat on them. A great weekend, even if it did mean an unreasonably early Saturday start!

So, some thoughts on the event in conclusion:

  • It was very clear how well the range of skills worked at an event like this. I don’t think any of us could have produced the result on our own.
  • A lot of time – not just our group, but everyone – was spent parsing and massaging the (oddly structured) XML. Had the main lists been available as a CSV/TSV, this might have been a lot quicker. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to get anywhere with it myself.
  • On the data quality note, we were lucky that the names of records were more or less unique strings, but an ID number for each record inserted when the original XML was generated might have saved a bit of time.
  • A handful of people could go from a flat file of names, positions, dates to about a thousand name-position pairs on Wikidata, some informative queries, and a prototype front-end viewer with a couple of days of work, and some of that could have been bypassed with cleaner initial data. This is really promising for

And on the Wikidata side, there are a few modelling questions this has thrown up:

  • I took the decision not to change postings based on the diplomatic rank – eg someone who was officially the “Minister to Norway” (1905-1942) conceptually held the same post as someone who was “Ambassador to Norway” (1942-2018). If desired, we can represent the rank as a qualifier on the item (eg/ subject has role: “chargé d’affaires”). This seemed to make the most sense – “ambassadors with a small ‘a'”.
  • The exception to this is High Commissioners, who are currently modelled parallel to Ambassadors – same hierarchy but in parallel. This lets us find all the HCs without simply treating them as “Ambassadors with a different job title”.

    However, this may not be a perfect approach as some HCs changed to Ambassadors and back again (eg Zimbabwe) when a country leaves/rejoins the Commonwealth. At the moment these are modelled by picking one for a country and sticking to it, with the option of qualifiers as above, but a better approach might be needed in the long run.
  • Dates as given are the dates of service. A few times – especially in the 19th century when journeys were more challenging – an ambassador was appointed but did not proceed overseas. These have been imported with no start-end dates, but this isn’t a great solution. Arguably they could have a start/end date in the same year and a qualifier to say they did not take up the post; alternatively, you could make a case that they should not be listed as ambassadors at all.

History of Parliament and Wikidata – the first round complete

Back in January, I wrote up some things I was aiming to do this year, including:

Firstly, I’d like to clear off the History of Parliament work on Wikidata. I haven’t really written this up yet (maybe that’s step 1.1) but, in short, I’m trying to get every MP in the History of Parliament database listed and crossreferenced in Wikidata. At the moment, we have around 5200 of them listed, out of a total of 22200 – so we’re getting there. (Raw data here.) Finding the next couple of thousand who’re listed, and mass-creating the others, is definitely an achievable task.

Well, seven months later, here’s where it stands:

  • 9,372 of a total 21,400 (43.7%) of History of Parliament entries been matched to records for people in Wikidata.
  • These 9,372 entries represent 7,257 people – 80 have entries in three HoP volumes, and 1,964 in two volumes. (This suggests that, when complete, we will have about ~16,500 people for those initial 21,400 entries – so maybe we’re actually over half-way there).
  • These are crossreferenced to a lot of other identifiers. 1,937 of our 7,257 people (26.7%) are in the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, 1,088 (15%) are in the National Portrait Gallery database, and 2,256 (31.1%) are linked to their speeches in the digital edition of Hansard. There is a report generated each night crosslinking various interesting identifiers.
  • Every MP in the 1820-32 volume (1,367 of them) is now linked and identified, and the 1790-1820 volume is now around 85% complete. (This explains the high showing for Hansard, which covers 1805 onwards)
  • The metadata for these is still limited – a lot more importing work to do – but in some cases pretty decent; 94% of the 1820-32 entries have a date of death, for example.

Of course, there’s a lot more still to do – more metadata to add, more linkages to make, and so on. It still does not have any reasonable data linking MPs to constituencies, which is a major gap (but perhaps one that can be filled semi-automatically using the HoP/Hansard links and a clever script).

But as a proof of concept, I’m very happy with it. Here’s some queries playing with the (1820-32) data:

  • There are 990 MPs with an article about them in at least one language/WM project. Strikingly, ten of these don’t have an English Wikipedia article (yet). The most heavily written-about MP is – to my surprise – David Ricardo, with articles in 67 Wikipedias. (The next three are Peel, Palmerston, and Edward Bulwer-Lytton).
  • 303 of the 1,367 MPs (22.1%) have a recorded link to at least one other person in Wikidata by a close family relationship (parent, child, spouse, sibling) – there are 803 links, to 547 unique people – 108 of whom are also in the 1820-32 MPs list, and 439 of whom are from elsewhere in Wikidata. (I expect this number to rise dramatically as more metadata goes in).
  • The longest-surviving pre-Reform MP (of the 94% indexed by deathdate, anyway) was John Savile, later Earl of Mexborough, who made it to August 1899…
  • Of the 360 with a place of education listed, the most common is Eton (104), closely followed by Christ Church, Oxford (97) – there is, of course, substantial overlap between them. It’s impressive to see just how far we’ve come. No-one would ever expect to see anything like that for Parliament today, would we.
  • Of the 1,185 who’ve had first name indexed by Wikidata so far, the most popular is John (14.4%), then William (11.5%), Charles (7.5%), George (7.4%), and Henry (7.2%):

  • A map of the (currently) 154 MPs whose place of death has been imported:

All these are of course provisional, but it makes me feel I’m definitely on the right track!


So, you may be asking, what can I do to help? Why, thankyou, that’s very kind…

  • First of all, this is the master list, updated every night, of as-yet-unmatched HoP entries. Grab one, load it up, search Wikidata for a match, and add it (property P1614). Bang, one more down, and we’re 0.01% closer to completion…
  • It’s not there? (About half to two thirds probably won’t be). You can create an item manually, or you can set it aside to create a batch of them later. I wrote a fairly basic bash script to take a spreadsheet of HoP identifiers and basic metadata and prepare it for bulk-item-creation on Wikidata.
  • Or you could help sanitise some of the metadata – here’s some interesting edge cases:
    • This list is ~680 items who probably have a death date (the HoP slug ends in a number), but who don’t currently have one in Wikidata.
    • This list is ~540 people who are titled “Honourable” – and so are almost certainly the sons of noblemen, themselves likely to be in Wikidata – but who don’t have a link to their father. This list is the same, but for “Lord”, and this list has all the apparently fatherless men who were the 2nd through 9th holders of a title…

Wikidata and identifiers – part 2, the matching process

Yesterday, I wrote about the work we’re doing matching identifiers into Wikidata. Today, the tools we use for it!

Mix-and-match

The main tool we’re using is a beautiful thing Magnus developed called mix-and-match. It imports all the identifiers with some core metadata – for the ODNB, for example, this was names and dates and the brief descriptive text – and sorts them into five groups:

  • Manually matched – these matches have been confirmed by a person (or imported from data already in Wikidata);
  • Automatic – the system has guessed these are probably the same people but wants human confirmation;
  • Unmatched – we have no idea who these identifiers match to;
  • No Wikidata – we know there is currently no Wikidata match;
  • N/A – this identifier shouldn’t match to a Wikidata entity (for example, it’s a placeholder, a subject Wikidata will never cover, or an cross-reference with its own entry).

The goal is to work through everything and move as much as possible to “manually matched”. Anything in this group can then be migrated over to Wikidata with a couple of clicks. Here’s the ODNB as it stands today:

(Want to see what’s happening with the data? The recent changes link will show you the last fifty edits to all the lists.)

So, how do we do this? Firstly, you’ll need a Wikipedia account, and to log in to our “WiDaR” authentication tool. Follow the link on the top of the mix-and-match page (or, indeed, this one), sign in with your Wikipedia account if requested, and you’ll be authorised.

On to the matching itself. There’s two methods – manually, or in a semi-automated “game mode”.

How to match – manually

The first approach works line-by-line. Clicking on one of the entries – here, unmatched ODNB – brings up the first fifty entries in that set. Each one has options on the left hand side – to search Wikidata or English Wikipedia, either by the internal search or Google. On the right-hand side, there are three options – “set Q”, to provide it with a Wikidata ID (these are all of the form Q—–, and so we often call them “Q numbers”); “No WD”, to list it as not on Wikidata; “N/A”, to record that it’s not appropriate for Wikidata matching.

If you’ve found a match on Wikidata, the ID number should be clearly displayed at the top of that page. Click “set Q” and paste it in. If you’ve found a match via Wikipedia, you can click the “Wikidata” link in the left-hand sidebar to take you to the corresponding Wikidata page, and get the ID from there.

After a moment, it’ll display a very rough-and-ready precis of what’s on Wikidata next to that line –

– which makes it easy to spot if you’ve accidentally pasted in the wrong code! Here, we’ve identified one person (with rather limited information, just gender and deathdate, currently in Wikidata, and marked another as definitely not found)

If you’re using the automatically matched list, you’ll see something like this:

– it’s already got the data from the possible matches but wants you to confirm. Clicking on the Q-number will take you to the provisional Wikidata match, and from there you can get to relevant Wikipedia articles if you need further confirmation.

How to match – game mode

We’ve also set up a “game mode”. This is suitable when we expect a high number of the unmatched entries to be connectable to Wikipedia articles; it gives you a random entry from the unmatched list, along with a handful of possible results from a Wikipedia search, and asks you to choose the correct one if it’s there. you can get it by clicking [G] next to the unmatched entries.

Here’s an example, using the OpenPlaques database.

In this one, it was pretty clear that their Roy Castle is the same as the first person listed here (remember him?), so we click the blue Q-number; it’s marked as matched, and the game generates a new entry. Alternatively, we could look him up elsewhere and paste the Q-number or Wikipedia URL in, then click the “set Q” button. If our subject’s not here – click “skip” and move on to the next one.

Finishing up

When you’ve finished matching, go back to the main screen and click the [Y] at the end of the list. This allows you to synchronise the work you’ve done with Wikidata – it will make the edits to Wikidata under your account. (There is also an option to import existing matches from Wikidata, but at the moment the mix-and-match database is a bit out of synch and this is best avoided…) There’s no need to do this if you’re feeling overly cautious, though – we’ll synchronise them soon enough. The same page will also report any cases where two distinct Wikidata entries have been matched to the same identifier, which (usually) shouldn’t happen.

If you want a simple export of the matched data, you can click the [D] link for a TSV file (Q-number, identifier, identifier URL & name if relevant), and some stats on how many matches to individual wikis are available with [S].

Brute force

Finally, if you have a lot of matched data, and you are confident it’s accurate without needing human confirmation, then you can adopt the brute-force method – QuickStatements. This is the tool used for pushing data from mix-and-match to Wikidata, and can be used for any data import. Instructions are on that page – but if you’re going to use it, test it with a few individual items first to make sure it’s doing what you think, and please don’t be shy to ask for help…

So, we’ve covered a) what we’re doing; and b) how we get the information into Wikidata. Next instalment, how to actually use these identifiers for your own purposes…

Wikidata identifiers and the ODNB – where next?

Wikidata, for those of you unfamiliar with it, is the backend we are developing for Wikipedia. At its simplest, it’s a spine linking together the same concept in different languages – so we can tell that a coronation in English matches Tacqoyma in Azeri or Коронація in Ukranian, or thirty-five other languages between. This all gets bundled up into a single data entry – the enigmatically named Q209715 – which then gets other properties attached. In this case, a coronation is a kind of (or subclass of, for you semanticians) “ceremony” (Q2627975), and is linked to a few external thesauruses. The system is fully multilingual, so we can express “coronation – subclass of – ceremony” in English as easily as “kroning – undergruppe af – ceremoni” in Danish.

So far, so good.

There has been a great deal of work around Wikipedia in recent years in connecting our rich-text articles to static authority control records – confirming that our George Washington is the same as the one the Library of Congress knows about. During 2012-13, these were ingested from Wikipedia into Wikidata, and as of a year ago we had identified around 420,000 Wikidata entities with authority control identifiers. Most of these were from VIAF, but around half had an identifier from the German GND database, another half from ISNI, and a little over a third LCCN identifiers. Many had all four (and more). We now support matching to a large number of library catalogue identifiers, but – speaking as a librarian – I’m aware this isn’t very exciting to anyone who doesn’t spend much of their time cataloguing…

So, the next phase was to move beyond simply “authority” identifiers and move to ones that actually provide content. The main project that I’ve been working on (along with Charles Matthews and Magnus Manske, with the help of Jo Payne at OUP) is matching Wikidata to the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography – Wikipedia authors tend to hold the ODNB in high regard, and many of our articles already use it as a reference work. We’re currently about three-quarters of the way through, having identified around 40,000 ODNB entries who have been clearly matched to a Wikidata entity, and the rest should be finished some time in 2015. (You can see the tool here, and how to use that will be a post for another day.) After that, I’ve been working on a project to make links between Wikidata and the History of Parliament (with the assistance of Matthew Kilburn and Paul Seaward) – looking forward to being able to announce some results from this soon.

What does this mean? Well, for a first step, it means we can start making better links to a valuable resource on a more organised basis – for example, Robin Owain and I recently deployed an experimental tool on the Welsh Wikipedia that will generate ODNB links at the end of any article on a relevant subject (see, eg, Dylan Thomas). It means we can start making the Wikisource edition of the (original) Dictionary of National Biography more visible. It means we can quickly generate worklists – you want suitable articles to work on? Well, we have all these interesting and undeniably notable biographies not yet covered in English (or Welsh, or German, or…)

For the ODNB, it opens up the potential for linking to other interesting datasets (and that without having to pass through wikidata – all this can be exported). At the moment, we can identify matches to twelve thousand ISNIs, twenty thousand VIAF identifiers, and – unexpectedly – a thousand entries in IMDb. (Ten of them are entries for “characters”, which opens up a marvellous conceptual can of worms, but let’s leave that aside…).

And for third parties? Well, this is where it gets interesting. If you have ODNB links in your dataset, we can generate Wikipedia entries (probably less valuable, but in oh so many languages). We can generate images for you – Wikidata knows about openly licensed portraits for 214,000 people. Or we can crosswalk to whatever other project we support – YourPaintings links, perhaps? We can match a thousand of those. It can go backwards – we can take your existing VIAF links and give you ODNB entries. (Cataloguers, take note.)

And, best of all, we can ingest that data – and once it’s in Wikidata, the next third party to come along can make the links directly to you, and every new dataset makes the existing ones more valuable. Right now, we have a lot of authority control data, but we’re lighter on serious content links. If you have a useful online project with permanent identifiers, and you’d like to start matching those up to Wikidata, please do get in touch – this is really exciting work and we’d love to work with anyone wanting to help take it forward.

Update: Here’s part 2: on how to use the mix-and-match tool.

Laws on Wikidata

So, I had the day off, and decided to fiddle a little with Wikidata. After some experimenting, it now knows about:

  • 1516 Acts of the Parliament of the United Kingdom (1801-present)
  • 194 Acts of the Parliament of Great Britain (1707-1800)
  • 329 Acts of the Parliament of England (to 1707)
  • 20 Acts of the Parliament of Scotland (to 1707)
  • 19 Acts of the Parliament of Ireland (to 1800)

(Acts of the modern devolved parliaments for NI, Scotland, and Wales will follow.)

Each has a specific “instance of” property – Q18009569, for example, is “act of the Parliament of Scotland” – and is set up as a subclass of the general “act of parliament”. At the moment, there’s detailed subclasses for the UK and Canada (which has a seperate class for each province’s legislation) but nowhere else. Yet…

These numbers are slightly fuzzy – it’s mainly based on Wikipedia articles and so there are a small handful of cases where the entry represents a particular clause (eg Q7444697, s.4 and s.10 of the Human Rights Act 1998), or cases hwere multiple statutes are treated in the same article (eg Q1133144, the Corn Laws), but these are relatively rare and, mostly, it’s a good direct correspondence. (I’ve been fairly careful to keep out oddities, but of course, some will creep in…)

So where next? At the moment, these almost all reflect Wikipedia articles. Only 34 have a link to (English) Wikisource, though I’d guess there’s about 200-250 statutes currently on there. Matching those up will definitely be valuable; for legislation currently in force and on the Statute Law Database, it would be good to be able to crosslink to there as well.