An aquatint of a packed open field: mounted cavalry with raised sabres ride into a dense crowd, banners reading UNIVERSAL SUFFRAGE above them, people falling under the horses in the foreground, houses along the far side
To Henry Hunt, Esq. · Richard Carlile, 1 October 1819 St Peter’s Field, Manchester, 16 August 1819. Around sixty thousand people came to hear Hunt speak for parliamentary reform; the yeomanry cavalry rode in, eighteen were killed and hundreds injured.
(National Portrait Gallery, London. Photograph by APK, CC BY 4.0.)

St Peter’s Field · 16 August 1819

Sixty thousand people were in that field. The print names one.

  • What did the other fifty-nine thousand think they were doing that morning?
  • If nobody wrote it down, is that a question history is allowed to ask?

The Peterloo print, reduced: cavalry riding into a packed crowd under banners

  • Count the faces. The engraver drew people one at a time — hats, coats, a woman in white with her arms flung out — for a crowd put at sixty thousand. What would you need in front of you to write a history of this field?
  • Read the dedication. It names Henry Hunt, the gentleman on the hustings, and thanks “the Female Reformers of Manchester” as a group. One name, one category. Who has to be named before a historian counts them as an actor?
  • Read who signed it. Carlile was on the hustings, escaped, and published this in October as their “Fellow Labourer.” The fullest record of the day was made by a participant with a case to make. Is a source made to accuse worse than one made to administer, or wrong differently?

Making History • HIST 1105 • Week 6.1

History From Below

  • Background: Sarah Maza, Thinking About History (2017), ch. 1: “The History of Whom?”, 10–44
  • E. P. Thompson, The Making of the English Working Class (1963), Preface and ch. 1, 1–25
  • Jan Vansina, Oral Tradition as History (1985), ch. 1, 1–13 and 27–31

Page numbers name the author, because all three books are cited by page and their numbering overlaps. Thompson is the Vintage printing, Vansina the Wisconsin edition.

Today in context

What makes history happen?

Week 4 · Ranke, 1824

What the documents say, reported without invention.

Week 5 · Marx and Braudel

Structures. Class conflict over production; sea, soil and climate underneath everything.

Week 6.1 · Thompson, 1963

People — making themselves, out of what they experience and what they do about it.

Part one · history from above

For most of history’s history, the actors were the people who decided things

The answer that looked obvious

Rulers, commanders and leaders mattered because their decisions shaped the lives of thousands. Write the ruler and you have written the age (Maza, p. 10).

And it is not simply wrong

Henry VIII’s decision to divorce Catherine of Aragon and marry Anne Boleyn broke the English church from Rome. One man’s choice, generations of consequence (Maza, p. 11).

What the answer settles quietly

Asking “whose history?” is asking which sphere of human activity counts. For centuries the answer was politics, and politics meant public power (Maza, p. 12).

A full-length painted portrait of Henry VIII: feet planted wide, padded shoulders filling the frame, jewelled collar and dagger, standing on a patterned carpet before a curtain
Henry VIII · after Hans Holbein the Younger The pose is the argument: one body filling the frame, planted, deciding. Maza uses Henry as the case that “great man” history genuinely fits.
(Google Art Project, via Wikimedia Commons. Public domain.)

Part one · the case for the old answer

Take the strongest version of it before taking it apart

Political history should matter above all else, because the state is where humans pursue their highest form of rationality, “reflected in the rational ordering and organization of society by means of laws, constitutions, and political institutions.”

Gertrude Himmelfarb, following Aristotle, quoted in Maza, p. 13
Three assumptions underneath
  • The state is the most important arena of human activity.
  • Political leaders drive historical change.
  • “Politics” is something that happens in public (Maza, p. 13).

Part one · before the 1960s

Social history was already a century old. That was never the problem.

“When they were effective as a crowd … historians celebrated them for advancing the purpose of their forward-looking superiors, while never acknowledging them individually by name.”

Maza, p. 15 — her examples are the Bastille and the Winter Palace
The lineage

France from the 1820s: Thiers and Michelet made “the people” the movers of 1789. England: Macaulay (1848), then his great-nephew Trevelyan (Maza, p. 14).

The catch

That tradition was “clearly subordinate and accessory to political history”: the social chapter is scenery, and the action on stage is still the politics (Maza, pp. 14–15).

The same move as the print in the cold open. Hunt is named, the Female Reformers are thanked as a group, and sixty thousand people are a crowd.

Part one · Trevelyan, 1942

The phrase that made the tradition famous names what it left out

Social history is “the history of a people with the politics left out.”

G. M. Trevelyan, English Social History (1942), quoted in Maza, p. 15
What that book is

Six hundred pages of English life to 1901 — trade routes, population, marriage customs, diets, how damp a peasant home felt in 1750. Written in 1942 to lift wartime morale (Maza, pp. 14–15).

The phrase is disputed

Trevelyan’s biographer says it is quoted out of context: he took it up reluctantly, for a book meant to complement his political history (Maza, p. 15 n. 7).

Disputed or not, it names the assumption. Leave the politics out and the poor stop being able to change anything — pictures rather than an argument (Maza, p. 15).

Part one · the 1960s and 1970s

Then the discipline changed its mind, fast

How fast

In 1948 almost no American dissertations were in social history; by 1978, a quarter. Across Harvard, Yale, Michigan and Wisconsin, courses ran from nought to two a year in the late 1950s, and thirteen to seventeen twenty years later (Maza, p. 17).

Nobody agreed what it was

In the United States “history from below” and “bottom-up” fell out of favour for sounding judgmental or mildly salacious. “Social history” stuck as the name; what it meant in practice never settled (Maza, p. 17).

Part one · quantification

The first answer was to count everybody

The reasoning

If numbers don’t lie and bigger samples are safer, the solid truths are in large numbers. Social history becomes a social science (Maza, p. 17).

Where the numbers are

Authorities kept what they needed: prices, yields, births, marriages, deaths, censuses for taxation. Quantification works best on population, the economy and mass politics (Maza, pp. 17–18).

The archive of the poor is mostly a record of them being counted, taxed, and buried. That shapes which questions are answerable.

Discussion · part one

Counting the poor is not hearing them. Is it a fair substitute?

  • A parish register gives you every burial in a village for two centuries. What can you now ask, and what can you still not ask?

Answer · part one

Numbers restore people to the record without restoring them to the story

The gain and the limit

Counting proves the poor were there and how they lived and died. It cannot say what they wanted, because nobody recording them was asking.

A source made to administer people answers administrative questions. To ask a different question you need a different source — or a different way of reading this one.

Part two · 1963

One book reset what the word “class” was allowed to mean

Quantification had made the poor visible in aggregate. The book that mattered most contained not a single numerical table.

The object

The Making of the English Working Class, 1963: eight hundred pages on English working people between roughly 1780 and 1830. Its author has been called the most widely cited historian of the twentieth century (Maza, pp. 23–25).

A white-haired man in a long coat speaking into a red megaphone in the open air, a crowd of listeners below and behind him under a grey sky
E. P. Thompson · 1924–1993 A Marxist historian who left the Communist Party in 1956 over Hungary and spent sixteen years teaching adult-education classes to working people in the West Riding, on the extra-mural staff at Leeds rather than in a conventional academic post. At an anti-nuclear rally, Oxford, 1980.Why he matters: he argued that class is not a structure you can find in the numbers but something people do, and so has to be described rather than deduced.(Photograph by Kim Traynor, 1980. CC BY-SA 4.0.)

Part two · the preface

The title is an argument, and he says so in the first paragraph

Making, because it is a study in an active process, which owes as much to agency as to conditioning. The working class did not rise like the sun at an appointed time. It was present at its own making.”

Thompson, The Making of the English Working Class, p. 9
What “agency” is doing here

Conditions press on people; people also act. Marx gave the conditions a motor. Thompson insists the people inside it were doing something of their own. Compare 5.1.

Part two · the definition

Class is not a thing you can find. It is something that happens.

“I do not see class as a ‘structure’, nor even as a ‘category’, but as something which in fact happens (and can be shown to have happened) in human relationships.”

Thompson, p. 9
The consequence for method

“The finest-meshed sociological net cannot give us a pure specimen of class, any more than it can give us one of deference or of love” (p. 9). You cannot sample for it.

“Class is defined by men as they live their own history, and, in the end, this is its only definition” (p. 11).

Part two · what he is writing against

He names the three histories he is arguing with, and concedes each one first

The three
  • Fabian — working people as passive victims of laissez faire, with the exception of a handful of far-sighted organisers.
  • Empirical economic historians — working people “as a labour force, as migrants, or as the data for statistical series.”
  • “Pilgrim’s Progress” — the period ransacked for forerunners of the Welfare State (p. 12).
The quarrel

“Each of these orthodoxies has a certain validity. All have added to our knowledge.” His objection to the first two: “they tend to obscure the agency of working people” (p. 12).

A hand-coloured etching of a man in a woman's blue spotted dress and bonnet striding forward with a club, arm flung out, while behind him figures with raised weapons attack a burning mill
The Leader of the Luddites · May 1812 Croppers finished cloth by hand with heavy shears, and machines were taking the work. Machine-breaking became a capital offence in 1812. The print is inscribed “Drawn from Life by an Officer.”
(Working Class Movement Library, via Wikimedia Commons. Public domain.)

Part two · the famous sentence

The people he wants back are the ones who were wrong

“I am seeking to rescue the poor stockinger, the Luddite cropper, the ‘obsolete’ hand-loom weaver, the ‘utopian’ artisan, and even the deluded follower of Joanna Southcott, from the enormous condescension of posterity.”

Thompson, p. 12
Read the adjectives

Obsolete, utopian, deluded — in quotation marks, because they are posterity’s words, not his. Every one is a reason an earlier historian gave for leaving somebody out.

Part two · the standard of judgement

Being wrong about the future is not a reason to be left out of the past

“Only the successful (in the sense of those whose aspirations anticipated subsequent evolution) are remembered. The blind alleys, the lost causes, and the losers themselves are forgotten.”

Thompson, p. 12
His answer

“Their aspirations were valid in terms of their own experience” — and the test he offers is that “they lived through these times of acute social disturbance, and we did not” (p. 13).

Judging the past by what happened next is a method, not neutrality. It writes off everyone who guessed wrong.

A stipple engraving of an elderly woman in a frilled bonnet and white gown, seated, arms folded, with a stack of books at her elbow; her signature engraved below
Joanna Southcott · 1750–1814 A Devon farmer’s daughter who became a prophetess with thousands of followers. Engraved in October 1814, at the height of her prophecy that she would bear a holy child; she died that December.
Note the books at her elbow.
(Published by John Bell, 2 October 1814. Public domain.)

Discussion · part two

Thompson wants the deluded follower in the history. What is she evidence of?

  • Thousands of people believed a sixty-four-year-old woman was about to give birth to a messiah. What would you have to think that belief was to make it a historical fact rather than a curiosity?

Answer · part two

A belief is evidence of the conditions that made it reasonable

What changes when you take it seriously

Southcott’s followers were mostly poor, in a decade of war, hunger and machine-breaking. A prophecy that the world was about to be overturned is a reading of that decade, not an escape from it.

Calling a belief deluded ends the enquiry. Asking what made it credible starts one.

Part three · the problem Thompson leaves

Thompson could do this because England wrote everything down

Thompson closes the argument of his preface looking outward: “Causes which were lost in England might, in Asia or Africa, yet be won” (p. 13).

What that sentence costs him

His method runs on paper — spy reports, trials, petitions, hymns, chapbooks — read against the grain. Where the archive is thin or was never written, reading against the grain has nothing to read.

A studio photograph printed as a postcard: a standing man in a robe and cap holding a small lute, two seated women in white blouses and striped wrappers in front of him, a painted backdrop behind
Conakry — Groupe Soussous · postcard, c. 1910 A French colonial postcard from Guinea. The standing man holds an ngoni lute, the instrument of a griot — a professional keeper and performer of historical tradition.
(Unknown photographer. Public domain.)

The Conakry postcard, reduced: a griot standing behind two seated women

  • The instrument is the identification. Nobody here is named, but the ngoni marks its holder’s trade: he is kept to hold and perform his community’s past. If the record is a person, what happens to it when he dies?
  • Read what the caption calls them. “Groupe Soussous” — a type, not three people. The photographer was selling an ethnic specimen to a market in France. What does a source record when its maker had no reason to learn a name?
  • It is evidence anyway. Not of Susu history, which it never set out to record, but of what that market wanted Africa to look like in 1910. Can a source be good evidence for something its maker was not talking about?
A black-and-white close portrait of an elderly man with a lined face, smiling slightly, looking off to one side, dark boards behind him
Jan Vansina · 1929–2017 Born in Antwerp; did fieldwork among the Kuba at Nsheng in the Belgian Congo, then at a research institute in Central Africa; taught African history at Wisconsin from 1960 to 1994. The book you read rewrites an earlier method book of his, twenty years on.Why he matters: he argued that oral tradition is not folklore awaiting corroboration but a document, open to the same criticism as any other.(University of Wisconsin–Madison. Used for teaching.)

Part three · the definition

He draws one hard line, and then refuses to draw any more

Oral traditions are “verbal messages which are reported statements from the past beyond the present generation.”

Vansina, Oral Tradition as History, p. 27
The line he does draw

Spoken, sung or called out on instruments, so not writing. Beyond the present generation, so not an interview about someone’s own life — that is oral history, a different source (pp. 27–28).

The ones he refuses

Others would require a tradition to be widely known, or told with the conscious intent to testify. “Far too restrictive”: much is learned from sources not concerned with the past, which “testify despite themselves” (p. 28).

Part three · the move

He does not ask you to trust it, but to treat it as a document

“A tradition should be seen as a series of successive historical documents all lost except for the last one and usually interpreted by every link in the chain of transmission.”

Vansina, p. 29
Why that reframing does the work

It puts tradition inside source criticism instead of outside it: every link can be questioned, and the last teller is not the author. He warns in the same breath against pushing it — oral messages are not originals and copies (p. 30).

“Evidence at second, third, or nth remove, but it is still evidence unless it be shown that a message does not finally rest on a first statement made by an observer” (p. 29).

Part three · two things he adds

The method is old, and the chain is a simplification

Somebody got there first

Islamic scholars have judged hadith by examining the links in the chain of transmission since the second century after the Hijra — assessing each witness between the Prophet’s Companion and the recorder (p. 30). Compare 3.1.

And the neat chain is wrong

Most tradition is “told by many people to many people.” There are no tidy lines; transmission is communal and continuous (p. 30).

That messiness is not only loss: “Multiple flow does not necessarily imply multiple distortion only, rather perhaps the reverse” (p. 31).

Discussion · part three

Is this a challenge to Week 4’s scientific history, or its standard applied elsewhere?

  • Ranke wanted claims that rest on named sources anyone could go and check. Vansina wants a link between record and observation, and every link in the chain criticised. Same demand, or a different one?

Answer · part three

He keeps the standard and refuses the assumption smuggled in with it

The two halves

Kept: evidence must rest on somebody’s observation, and every link is criticised. Refused: that only writing can carry the link — never argued for, just what the archives Ranke worked in happened to contain.

The demand was always for a source you could name and criticise. That the source had to be paper was a fact about European archives, not a rule of evidence.

Thompson and Vansina

Both widen who counts. Only one of them has to build a new kind of source.

Thompson, 1963

The archive exists and is hostile. Spies, magistrates and prosecutors wrote most of it. Read it against the grain and the people it was written to control come through it.

Vansina, 1985

For much of the world the archive was never written. So establish that a spoken tradition is a document, and work out the rules for criticising one.

New topics needed new reading. New parts of the world needed new sources.

The lecture · three parts

Who counts, whether they acted, and what counts as evidence

01 · Maza, ch. 1

Who counts

Ordinary people were in the books for a century, as scenery. The 1960s made them actors; counting them answered only the questions their administrators had asked.

02 · Thompson, 1963

Agency

Class is something people do, not a category you sample for. The losers belong in the history, and hindsight is not a neutral standard.

03 · Vansina, 1985

Evidence

Oral tradition is a document at nth remove. Keep Ranke’s requirement of a link to an observation; drop the assumption that it has to be written.

The take home

Changing who history is about forces a change in what counts as a source

Why it could not stop at topics

Archives were built by institutions with no reason to record workers, women or colonised communities. Deciding to write about them is not enough if the evidence rules stay as they were.

Every rule about what counts as evidence is also a decision about whose past can be known. Those rules were written by people who were not thinking about you.

Next · 6.2

Rowbotham and Scott ask the same question about half of everyone

  • Rowbotham’s claim is Thompson’s, applied to women: they were left out because historians did not look.
  • Scott goes further — gender is not one more group to add, but a lens on how power works everywhere.

Both readings assume today’s argument. Come having decided whether adding people to the story is enough.