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social history « Top of the Campops: 60 things you didn't know about family, marriage, work, and death since the middle ages

Top of the Campops: 60 things you didn't know about family, marriage, work, and death since the middle ages

Posts Tagged ‘social history’

Three score and ten?

Thursday, August 15th, 2024

Romola Davenport & Jim Oeppen

Campop’s studies of mortality suggest that, in England, average life expectancy at birth varied between 35 and 40 years in the centuries between 1600 and 1800It is a common misconception that, when life expectancy was so low, there must have been very few old peopleIn fact, the most common age for adult deaths was around 70 years, in line with the Biblical three score years and ten. So what does life expectancy actually measure?

George Paul Chalmers, “An Old Woman”, National Galleries of Scotland.

What is life expectancy?

To understand life expectancy, we can imagine a group of 1,000 babies born at the same time. We can measure how long each one lives. Figure 1 shows the lifespans for these infants as horizontal bars that indicate the length of life, arranged from top to bottom in order of lifespan. Their lifespans follow the pattern of mortality in England in 1841.   

Figure 1. Lengths of life and percent remaining alive of 1,000 babies born into a hypothetical population in England and Wales in 1841. Source: Human Mortality Database.

As you can see, in 1841 a lot of children died in the first five years of life. Of 1,000 babies, 138 (nearly 14 percent) died before reaching their first birthday. By age five, over a quarter of the original 1,000 babies were dead.  

However, after the first five years, the rate of attrition eased. Children who made it to their fifth birthday had a 50:50 chance of making it to their 60th birthday. Of the original 1,000 babies, 38 percent survived to age 60, and nearly 10 percent to age 80.  

So why was life expectancy only 42 in 1841? Because life expectancy is the average of all the different lengths of lives in the population. When mortality is high in infancy and childhood, then many of these lives are very short, and these many short lives really bring down the average age at death.  

Richard Tennant Cooper, “A Ghostly Skeleton Trying to Strangle a Sick Child; Representing Diphtheria”. Image: Wellcome Collection.

Calculating life expectancy 

To calculate life expectancy, we take all the ages at which people died, add them up, and then divide by the number of people. For example, if we had a ‘population’ of two people, one of whom died on their first birthday and the other who died on their 100th birthday, their average life expectancy would be their ages at death added together and divided by two (101/2 = an average life expectancy of 50.5 years). But neither individual died in their 50s, or anywhere near their 50s. The average is not a good indicator of mortality risk in this case, because the length of life is so variable in this population.  

On the other hand, if we have a population of two people, one of whom died on their 80th birthday and the other on their 100th, then average life expectancy would be 90 years, a much more representative estimate of average years lived. The latter case is much more like most populations in the world today. As life expectancy has risen, the benefits have been felt first at younger ages, and death has become increasingly concentrated in late adulthood 

Changing life expectancy over time 

In the early 1600s (the first period for which we can calculate life expectancy in the English population) there was a huge peak of deaths in infancy, but then deaths were strung out across the whole life course between birth and 110 years of age. That is, the length of life was very unpredictable in the 1600s, and the risk of death was fairly high at all ages. 

David des Granges, “The Saltonstall Family”, c.1636–7. The painting has been interpreted as depicting Sir Richard Saltonshall and his two wives and children. His first wife Elizabeth Basse, in the bed, died in 1630 leaving two young children, and Richard married Mary Parker in 1633. Image credit: Tate.

By 1800, this pattern had begun to shift. Mortality had become more concentrated at the oldest and youngest ages. In personal terms, this meant that fewer young children experienced the loss of their parents, fewer young adults were widowed, and fewer elderly parents experienced the untimely deaths of their adult children.  

By the 1960s, deaths in childhood and early adulthood were relatively rare, and most people could expect to live into their 60s, 70s or 80s. Life expectancy was around 72, and this is a much better reflection of the ages to which most people could expect to live. 

Today, when the death distribution is compressed and dominated by the adult peak, average life expectancy at birth is a much more representative statistic than in the past when the average fell between two peaks (infancy and old age). Nevertheless, most people die above the average age, and the most common age at death is almost 90

It’s a bit more complicated… 

So life expectancy is a kind of summary measure of mortality patterns in a population. It allows us to compare mortality trends over time, and between populations. But it is not a measure of the lifespan of a population, or even of the most common age at death.

Calculating life expectancy in real populations is also not quite as straightforward as we have suggested. Take the life expectancy of the English population in the 1960s. This doesn’t actually apply to the cohort of people born in 1960, because to calculate life expectancy for a real cohort we would have to wait until they were all dead in order to know how long they had lived! 

So to calculate life expectancy for the people born in 1960, we would take all the deaths that occurred in that year and use these to measure the risk of dying at each age in 1960. We then apply these risks to an imaginary population that was born in 1960 and work out the average age at which they would have died if they had faced these risks at each age. This captures the particular mortality patterns of the year 1960, and is given the technical term ‘period life expectancy’. This is what people usually mean when they refer to life expectancy.

Demographers are, however, also interested in the life expectancy of cohorts of real people. For example, we can follow cohorts with unusual experiences, such as men born in the last years of the 19th century who were of recruitment age in World War I, and compare how they fared compared with other cohorts born before and after them.

Great expectations

The modern rise in life expectancy has provided enormous social and economic benefits. Not only do we live longer, but there has been a massive reduction in uncertainty with respect to both our own lifetimes and the lifetimes of our family and friends. 

Further reading

Davenport, R.J. (2021) ‘Patterns of death, 1800 – 2020: Global rates and causes’ in P.N. Stearns (ed.) The Routledge History of Death Since 1800. Routledge. 

Wrigley, E.A., R.S. Davies, J.E. Oeppen and R.S. Schofield (1997) English Population History from Family Reconstitution. Cambridge University Press.

Women have always worked – for pay

Thursday, August 8th, 2024

Amy Erickson

It is commonly assumed that women entered the workforce in significant numbers only after the World Wars of the 20th century. While women may have been occupied with household duties in previous centuries, the assumption goes, they were much less likely than men to engage in paid labour. This blog explains why a) that’s wrong, and b) the issue is much more complicated than simply a progressive increase in women earning their own salary. 

The Woman Shopkeeper, British School. Photo credit: People’s Palace and Winter Gardens, Glasgow, licensed under CC BY-NC-ND.

In 2018 the female labour force participation rate reached a record high of 74 percent. Reliable figures began in 1851, with the first census in which it is possible to discern anything like a labour force participation rate. In 1851, 43 percent of women were reported to be in ‘regular employment’. ‘Regular’ was not defined, so that figure should be taken as a minimum of those engaged in paid employment, with no indication of hours worked.  

Mid-19th century concepts of full-time employment were very different from our own: agricultural work was from dawn (or earlier in the case of milking) to dusk, so varied seasonally; textile factory or mining or blast furnace shifts were 12 hours; shops were open in all daylight hours, six days a week. Today’s full time eight-hour day and 40-hour week would have been considered part-time for the last 500 years.  

If 43 percent of adult women were in regular employment in the mid-19th century, then women constituted nearly one third of the total labour force (not counting unpaid domestic work). Single women and widows were much more often employed than married women, only 10 percent of whom were in regular employment.  

However, while the great majority of women married, and most of those who married had children whose upbringing was certainly their mother’s responsibility, nonetheless more than half of all adult women (usually counted as 15+) were not married at any given point in time. 

The industrial revolution

The effect of the industrial revolution on women’s employment has been hotly debated for the last century. The current consensus is that the effects varied by type of manufacturing. 

The largest manufacturing sector, by number of people employed and by exports, was textiles. The mechanisation of spinning from the late 18th century had a catastrophic effect on women’s employment levels nationwide: yarn that was previously produced by hand by women all over the country was now produced in factories highly concentrated in particular towns, and much of the labour was men’s.  

J. Hinton, The Art of Stocking-Frame-Work Knitting, engraved for the Universal Magazine, 1750. Science Museum Group, © The Board of Trustees of the Science Museum.

The mechanisation of weaving in the early 19th century partially compensated for the earlier technological unemployment caused by the mechanisation of spinning, since factory weaving was largely female. But factory weaving, like factory spinning, was not evenly spread but geographically concentrated: cottons in Lancashire; woollens in West Yorkshire and the West Country; silks in Essex and Cheshire.  

The census evidence, available for the period 1851-1911, shows that female labour force participation rates were demand-led – that is, wherever paid employment was available in the period 1851-1911, women took it. So regional differences were marked. That situation probably applied earlier too.  

The best place to measure employment rates prior to 1851 is London, using court records which asked witnesses how they supported themselves. Around 1700, these records show a minimum of 65 percent of married women in employment, six and a half times the 1851 rate. Nearly all single and widowed women were in employment.  

Married women in employment still bore all of the domestic responsibilities, but they were likely to pay other women to do the required cooking, cleaning, washing, and childcare – either as live-in servants or on a casual daily basis as charwomen. This left the wealthier women who had received skilled training from their parents or an apprenticeship free to operate their trade. Both their activities and the servants’ employment increased the female labour force participation rate.

For married women, the drawback of earning was that technically their husbands owned all of their property, although there were ways around that draconian rule.

Sketch book of Paul Sandby (1745-1809), photo credit: Trustees of the British Museum.

Entrepreneurs

Given sufficient capital, running one’s own business was infinitely preferable for women, whose wages stuck at the biblical ratio of one half to two thirds of men’s wages for over 500 years (Leviticus 27:2-4). Both piecework and entrepreneurship were therefore preferable to wages. The censuses of 1851-1911 suggest that historically women were more likely than men to be entrepreneurs – whether they chose self-employment through necessity or to take advantage of opportunities. 

Before the 19th century, most work was domestic in the sense that it took place in or around someone’s home. Of course, all of the labour that we now refer to as unpaid domestic work was still necessary, but to a large extent women were paid to undertake it. 

Unknown artist; Esther Hammerton (1711-1746).
Hester succeeded her father as sexton at All Saints’ Church in Kingston, which required her to dig graves and ring the bells. By the end of the 18th century, every parish within London’s city walls and several without the walls had employed a women sexton at one time or another.

Labour force participation rates 

In the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries, around one third of all households employed servants. By 1851, only 12 percent of households employed servants, which necessitated much more unpaid labour in the home. The mid-19th to the mid-20th century marked a historic low point in what we now call labour force participation rates, and of course saw the campaigns for women’s education, reforms to married women’s property law, and access to the professions of medicine and law.  

It is these campaigns that are often referenced as ‘opening up’ employment for women, but the story is considerably more complicated and by no means a simple progression from bad to better. Investigating women’s employment in the pre-census era puts into perspective the ‘record’ labour force participation rate of 2018: it looks now more like a return to an earlier status quo, rather than an achievement of equality of opportunity. 

Women gutting and salting herring for export in Wick, c.1900, photo credit: Johnston Collection, Wick.

Further reading

Open access

Xuesheng You, ‘The missing half: female labour force participation in Victorian England and Wales’, in The Online Historical Atlas of Occupational Structure and Population Geography in England and Wales 1600-2011, ed. L. Shaw-Taylor, A. Cockerill and M. Satchell (2017). 

Economies Past lets you explore female and male employment by local area 1851-1911. 

On Populations Past you can disaggregate women by marital status and relate their employment to households, to infant and child mortality, and to children’s employment by local area 1851-1911. 

The British Business Census of Entrepreneurs maps women and men in business 1851-1911. 

Paywall

Amy Erickson, ‘Married women’s occupations in eighteenth-century London’, Continuity & Change 23 (2008), 267-307. 

Wanda Henry, ‘Hester Hammerton and women sextons in eighteenth and nineteenth-century England’, Gender & History 31:2 (2019), 404-21. 

Carry van Lieshout, Harry Smith, Piero Montebruno & Robert J. Bennett, ‘Female entrepreneurship: business, marriage and motherhood in England and Wales, 1851–1911’, Social History 44:4 (2019), 440-68. 

Leigh Shaw-Taylor, ‘Diverse experiences: The geography of adult female employment in England and the 1851 census’, in Women’s Work in Industrial England: Regional and Local Perspectives, ed. Nigel Goose (2007). 

Jane Whittle, ‘A critique of approaches to “domestic work”: Women, work and the pre-industrial economy’, Past & Present 243 (2019), 35-70. 

Xuesheng You, ‘Women’s labour force participation in nineteenth-century England and Wales: evidence from the 1881 census enumerators’ books’, Economic History Review 73:1 (2020): 106-33. 

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Marriage in the Middle Ages

Thursday, July 25th, 2024

Chris Briggs

What do you know about population change in the English Middle Ages (c.1000-c.1500 AD)? Quite possibly, you have an inkling that the couple of centuries or so following the arrival of the Normans in 1066 were an era of steady growth in numbers. Almost certainly you know that that growth came to a juddering halt in the middle of the 14th century with the Black Death of 1348-9, and further outbreaks of plague and epidemic disease in the decades that followed. 

Agricultural labourers, 15th century. Source: Wikimedia.

But what about the mechanisms of change: patterns of births (fertility), deaths (mortality), and migration? These are the central concerns of demographers, but they become murky matters when we try to go back before 1500. The limitations of the medieval sources make it hard to speak with confidence on some of the most important questions about demographic behaviour in this early period.  

Yet substantial progress has been made over the last 60 years or so, thanks in no small part to work done within Campop. An especially significant contribution has been made by the Group’s former Director, Professor Richard Smith, and several of his former graduate students, most notably L.R. Poos and P.J.P. Goldberg. 

This body of research suggests, in essence, that medieval marriage, fertility, and household and family structure was much more like that of later periods, and indeed more like that of the modern world, than was previously thought. 

Early modern research

As described in a previous blog, the average age at first marriage was relatively high for both men and women in the British past, and the proportion of people who never married was also relatively high, with between 15 and 20 percent of women remaining unmarried in their 40s. This pattern – known as the European Marriage Pattern (EMP) – has been traced back into the 17th century. 

Campop’s work on parish registers of baptisms, marriages and burials, which survive for the period from 1538, showed how T.R. Malthus’s ‘preventive check’ operated in early modern England. Marriage, which was not universal, was delayed until economic opportunity allowed, which (given most childbearing occurred within marriage) in turn shaped population trends. 

Campop’s research also demonstrated the prevalence of small, nuclear households in the past, as opposed to complex multigenerational ones; the ubiquity of the institution of servanthood, which saw unmarried young people leave their homes to live and work with their employers and accumulate savings; and the general tendency for the establishment of a new household upon marriage. 

Wedding of Louis X of France and Clemance Hongrie (1315). Source: Wikimedia.

Contemplating these findings, scholars interested in earlier periods asked: how far could similar structures be traced in the era before parish registers? Was medieval demographic behaviour fundamentally different, as had often been assumed – or could the EMP be traced back into the Middle Ages? 

The questions were clear. Finding the sources with which to answer them systematically for the period before parish registers was a different matter. 

Very challenging sources

Quite often, medieval records say a lot about just one or two places, and require us to try to work out how typical or otherwise they may be of an entire region or country. The inventories of male serfs (unfree tenants) and their offspring produced in the 1260s by Spalding Priory (Lincolnshire) for three of their nearby manors are a good example of this. These lists reveal the priory’s desire to track the valuable ‘human capital’ on its estate. They tell us about the whereabouts and occupations of many of the children of serfs, male and female. They also indicate their marital status, and so can be used, for instance, to estimate the proportions married. 

Court Roll for the Court of Eusace Grenville in Wotten Underwood, Buckinghamshire (1431). Source: Wikipedia.

Another source that has been prominent in medieval demographic studies is the manorial court roll. This is the record of the manor court, a legal tribunal held by a landlord for his tenants and other local people. In the fullest and most complete series, such as those of Redgrave and Rickinghall (Suffolk) used by Richard Smith, the names of hundreds of peasants appear. There are dozens of data points for the best recorded individuals.  

Of course, not everyone in a community appears in the court roll, and women are under-recorded. Despite this, attempts have been made to produce a complete ‘reconstitution’ of the population of a manor, along the lines of those undertaken for the early modern era using parish registers. These have then been used to calculate a variety of demographic measures. Court rolls also often include records of the ‘merchet’ fine, which serfs had to pay for permission to marry. This has obvious value for studies of marriage and fertility. 

Court rolls tell us about change over time, unlike our third source, the returns to the three poll taxes of 1377, 1379, and 1380-81. These essentially function as a snapshot of conditions in postBlack Death England.  

The poll tax is famous as the trigger for the Peasants’ Revolt of 1381. Yet for medieval demographic historians, its richly detailed records are most prized for the information they hold on taxpayers, their marital and familial relationships, and their occupations. The three poll taxes were payable by all lay people, male and female. They basically excluded only children and the truly indigent. The best returns are thus somewhat less affected by the problems of omission that bedevil most medieval sources. 

Findings 

All these sources have been used by demographic historians for purposes that were never originally intended. To deploy them effectively requires the researcher to combine the archival skills of the medieval historian, with the technical know-how of the demographer. Not surprisingly, therefore, work on these materials has been replete with methodological debate. 

Any simplified summary of ‘findings’ comes with a health warning, since in medieval demographic history, the uncertainties and margins for error are higher than usual. Logic, inference, and comparison with better documented periods and places are as important as hard evidence. 

That said, there exists a substantial body of work produced by Campop that has helped to push back the evidence for the European Marriage Pattern into the pre-1500 period 

Detail of an historiated initial ‘S’ of a man placing a ring on a woman’s finger. 14th century. British Library Royal MS 6 E VI, fol. 104. Source: Wikimedia.

For instance, work by Smith and others on the 1377 poll tax revealed that around 60 percent of females were married. Similar proportions were found in analysis of the Spalding serf registers of around a century earlier. These figures are close to the proportions of persons identified as married in studies of household listings of the 17th century.  

A good deal of this medieval demographic work also focused on servants, both male and female. Their numerical presence in the 14thcentury poll tax returns was again like that found in the early modern evidence. In 1377, for instance, some 20 percent of households in the county of Rutland possessed servants. 

The picture that emerged from Campop’s work was more robust for the period after the watershed of the Black Death, thanks largely to the availability of the poll taxes. The period before 1348 is generally more obscure. Smith in particular expressed serious doubts about the likelihood of being ever being able to calculate crucial measures of fertility, especially marriage ages. It was argued that there were simply too many unknowns affecting the merchet fines contained in the manorial court rolls. 

Nonetheless, by the end of the 1980s, a coherent case had emerged for the existence of the European Marriage Pattern and its related household structures in England before 1500, and possibly before 1300. 

Lying behind all this work was the idea of a demographic regime in which marriage, reproduction and the formation of new households was shaped by economic opportunities – including work opportunities for women – in a way that differed from southern and eastern regions of Europe. It had potentially huge implications for understanding long-term patterns of economic growth. 

Not everyone agreed, of course. Zvi Razi, in a ground-breaking 1980 study of court rolls, presented a different picture of medieval English demography. His ‘reconstitution’ of the population of Halesowen in the west midlands revealed a ‘high pressure’ demographic regime of high fertility and mortality, comparatively early marriage, and large and complex households. Debate ensued about how far Razi’s findings showed genuine regional differences, as opposed to flawed assumptions about the capacity of his court rolls to support demographic analysis. 

The formal part of the medieval marriage ceremony often took place in a church porch like this late fifteenth-century example at Aylsham, Norfolk. Source: Wikimedia.

Recent work

The pioneering studies described above were mostly undertaken 30 and more years ago. The pace of fertility-focused research in medieval demography has slowed since the 1990s, both in Campop and elsewhere.  

This is partly the result of the abovementioned scarcity and difficulties of the surviving sources, and the technical demands on the researcher. Nonetheless, some important work has come out recently, undertaken not within Campop, but inspired by its approach and findings.  

This includes Judith Bennett’s study of the EMP and its origins based on a reappraisal of the Spalding Priory registers, and an investigation of the relationship between fertility and living standards by Kelly and Ó Gráda. In both cases Campop’s arguments about the early existence of the EMP and the importance of the preventive check receive support. 

Despite the challenges, exciting questions and opportunities in this field remain. 

And finally: what about mortality…? 

Readers may be puzzled as to why a blog on medieval population history has said so little about plague, disease, and early death. The answer is partly that the aim here has been to emphasize the importance and creativity of work on marriage and fertility, even if it is so frustratingly difficult to study.  

Medieval deaths are certainly much better recorded than marriages and births. And plenty of scholars would argue that it is changes on the mortality side that are key to understanding medieval population dynamics. But that, as they say, is another story – or another blog.

Further reading

Judith M. Bennett, ‘Wretched girls, wretched boys and the European Marriage Pattern in England (c.1250-1350)’, Continuity and Change, 34 (2019), 315-47. 

 P.J.P. Goldberg, Medieval England: a social history 1250-1550 (2004), chapter 6. 

 Andrew Hinde, England’s population. A history since the Domesday survey (2003), Part I. 

 Morgan Kelly and Cormac Ó Gráda, ‘The preventive check in medieval and preindustrial England’, Journal of Economic History, 72 (2012), 1015-35. 

 L.R. Poos, A rural society after the Black Death: Essex 1350-1525 (1991). 

 Richard Smith, ‘Some emerging issues in the demography of medieval England and prospects for their future investigation’, Local Population Studies, 100 (2018), 13-24. 

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