The Great Wave
The Great Wave
“This year’s best book for investors . . . . Too often, historical perspective on Wall Street
means going back a decade or two. Mr Fischer instead traces inflation data from medieval
times forward, finding evidence of repeated long patterns of rising prices, followed by long
periods of stability. In the process he demolishes some theories of what causes inflation . . . the
thesis is both believable and fascinating, and so is the book.” Floyd Norris, New York Times
annual survey of books in business and economics, 22 December 1996
“Very persuasive . . . a major work that deserves the attention of all historians.” Nancy
Gordon, History, Spring 1997
“Economists can read this book with interest and profit . . .. Fischer is a consummate stylist
and meticulous in his attention to details.” Rondo Cameron, Journal of Economic Literature,
Fall, 1997
“Phenomenal scope and erudition . . .. Fischer’s history of inflation is a thoroughly good read.
He should send the Treasury a copy.” Mark Archer, The Sunday Telegraph, 16 March 1997
“Superbly written . . . you’ll never glare at a price tag in quite the same way again.” Kay
Davidson, San Francisco Examiner, 19 February 1997
“Informative and compelling. . . . A panoramic view of the role of prices and the pernicious
effects of inflation down through the ages.” Stanley W. Angrist, Wall Street Journal, 19
December 1996
“A provocative and thoughtful tour through history.” The Economist, 19 July 1997
“The best explanation for the wild gyrations at the heart of today’s popular culture I’ve yet
seen.” Nathan Greenfield, Ottawa Citizen, May 4, 1997
“Similar to more popular and populist works that spring up like daffodils and last about as
long . . .. The Great Wave, in contrast, is the real thing, backed by solid research, not the
author’s political leanings . . .. Fischer’s work offers a cautionary story that is readily
understandable and surprisingly compelling.” Bill Peschel, The Herald, Feb 16, 1997
“Intriguing. . . . Mr. Fischer looks at a thousand years of European history, and documents with
fascinating detail long periods of rising prices that are accompanied by social upheaval and
even war, followed by long periods of stable prices accompanied by social calm.” Alan
Murray, Wall Street Journal, 10 February 1997
“Wise, worthy, and mostly convincing . . . the strength of Fischer’s narrative is the way he
manages to intertwine details of everyday life and familiar aspects of history with the complex
story of the economic underpinnings of the times.” Alan Earls, Boston Book Review
“Fischer is nothing if not an expert storyteller. He has an unerring instinct for the main
narrative line; he decorates with an abundance of detail . . . his book lays out with gentlemanly
thoroughness the great questions that fairly leap out of the numbers.” David Warsh, Boston
Globe
“Tantalizing . . .. A bold thread coursing through the weave of eight centuries of economic
history.” William P. Kucewicz, Markets, April 1997
“Very readable . . . in an interesting and informative way, the author reminds us of the real
consequences that economic policy has in each person’s life.” Michael Wald, Bureau of Labor
Statistics, Monthly Labor Review, April 1997
“Meticulously assembled price records from Mesopotamia to the modern day . . . the
conclusion is optimistic.” Edward Whitehouse, Financial Times, London, June 5, 1997
“Informative and readable . . . Fischer combines a lively narrative with cogent analysis and
sound advice. Essential for scholarly collections, this fine book will also be appreciated by
lay readers.” David Keymer, Library Journal November 1, 1996
“Fascinating historical facts and anecdotes . . . avoids the fog that obscures much academic
writing.” David R. Francis, Christian Science Monitor, 24 April 1997
“Fischer is well known for providing new insights into important but seemingly commonplace
topics. This he does again in The Great Wave.” William L. Urban, Magill Book Reviews, 1997
“Absorbing narrative . . . economic theorists have long suggested that economic events are
cyclic. But in Fischer’s discerning analysis there have been four great price revolutions in
western history.” David Rouse, Booklist, October 1, 1996
“A bold overview of how ordinary men and women have been protagonists in a drama that
was (in retrospect) nothing less than the modernization of economic life.” Robert Heilbroner,
Civilization, 1996
“Monumental . . . History shows that periods of deflation can be periods of prosperity, too.
Here’s a strategy for investing in an era of prosperous deflation. Evidence? David H. Fischer’s
monumental history of price movements, The Great Wave.” Thomas Easton, Forbes Magazine,
November 16, 1998
THE GREAT WAVE
Price Revolutions and the Rhythm of History
987654321
Printed in the United States of America
For my parents, with love
Norma and John Fischer
CONTENTS
PREFACE
“Something Like a Seismograph,”
INTRODUCTION
Great Waves in World History
CONCLUSION
From the Past to the Future
APPENDICES
A. Price Revolutions in the Ancient World
B. The Crisis of the Fourteenth Century: A World Movement?
C. The Crisis of the Seventeenth Century: A Global Event?
D. America and Europe: One Conjuncture or Two?
E. Cycles and Waves
F. Toward a Discrimination of Inflations
G. Money of Exchange and Money of Account
H. Nominal Prices and Silver Equivalents
I. Returns to Capital: Interest Rates as Historical Indicators
J. Returns to Labor: Real Wages and Standards of Living
K. Measures of Wealth and Income Distribution
L. Price Revolutions and Inequality
M. Price Revolutions and Family Disintegration
N. Price Revolutions and Personal Violence
O. Economics and History
NOTES
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Primary Sources for the History of Prices
Secondary Sources
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
CREDITS
INDEX
FIGURES
Charts, Maps, and Graphs
INTRODUCTION
0.01 Prices in England: Three Series, 1201–1993
0.02 Grain Prices in Europe: The Abel Series, 1201–1960
APPENDIX
5.01 Price Movements in Ancient Babylon, 1840–1620 B.C.
5.02 A Price Revolution in Ancient Greece, 450–150 B.C.
5.03 Price Revolutions in Ancient Rome: Two Estimates
5.04 The Price of Donkeys in Egypt
5.05 The Price Revolution of the Tenth Century: Portugal
5.06 Great Waves in Chinese History, 800–1800
5.07 Distribution of Wealth in America, 1635–1995
5.08 Births Outside Marriage in England and Wales, 1570–1993
5.09 Homicide Rates in England, 1200–1995
PREFACE
“Something Like a Seismograph . . .”
Of all the recording devices that can reveal to an historian the fundamental
movements of an economy, monetary phenomena are without doubt the
most sensitive. But to recognize their importance merely as symptoms
would do them less than full justice. They have been and are, in their turn,
causes. They are something like a seismograph, which not only measures
the movements of the earth but sometimes provokes them.
QUANTITATIVE METHODS find many uses in modern historical research. In some hands, they are
tools of descriptive measurement. In others, they become a calculus of conceptual
relationships. A few work with them mainly as rhetorical devices, to “enlarge the historian’s
vocabulary.”2
Not everyone is comfortable with these applications. History teachers know that when the
dreaded word quantification is mentioned in a classroom, undergraduate eyes glaze over.
Numbers too often become numbers of young and restless minds.
It need not be so. If one makes a leap of the imagination, numbers come alive. They do so
both in what they allow us to know and in how they help us to think. Numbers make it possible
for us to put the pieces together. They allow us to compare events that are otherwise
incomparable. They tell us which way the world is moving. They help us to think in general
terms about particular events, and then to test our generalizations against the evidence of
empirical indicators.
Many indicators of that sort exist for the study of recent events, but few reach very far into
the distant past. Only one type of source-material spans the entire range of written history: the
record of prices. We carry these humble documents about with us every day, in the tattered
receipts that accumulate in our wallets and purses. They seem so ephemeral that we scarcely
think of them in historical terms, and yet they survive in greater abundance than any other
quantifiable material.
Price-records come down to us from ancient civilizations of Asia, India, Rome, Greece,
Egypt, Palestine and Mesopotamia. In the dust of old Babylon, archeologists have found large
numbers of clay tablets and cylinders that yield price-series as early as the reign of
Hammurapi (circa 1793–1750 B.C.). In the deserts of Egypt, scholars have found papyri that
record the cost of living in the time of the Pharaohs. The civilizations of Greece and Rome,
China and India all generated a large body of price-records.
Even for the early Middle Ages, where the sources are not as strong, scholars have been
able to put together primitive price-lists (as distinct from price-series) for an astonishing
variety of medieval commodities. We can follow the price of peasant grain, monkish cowls,
knightly armor, and even sacred relics from the sixth to the twelfth centuries. These sources
allow us to reconstruct price movements in a rough way through the darkest period of
European history.3
From the twelfth century to the present, historians have compiled more sophisticated
price-series of very high quality. These data now exist for all European nations, and many
cities and towns.
Since the mid-nineteenth century, complex price-indices have been constructed by
governments throughout the world, in a vast labor of data-gathering that grows ever more
elaborate and precise. Every month, the latest price movements are front-page news in our
morning papers, and lead stories on the evening broadcast.4
With all of this material in hand, it is possible to follow the movement of prices through
nearly four thousand years of recorded history. The interpretive opportunities in these sources
are limited only by the reach of our imagination.
There are as many ways to study a price series as to read a text. On the surface, prices are
a running record of the cost of commodities as they change hands in the market. This is their
most common and familiar meaning. At the same time, they may also be studied in a different
way, as evidence of the changing value of money—which is how some economists prefer to
think of them. On a third level, prices tell us about systems of production, and especially about
structures of exchange—a subject of growing historical importance, as scholars begin to
discover that processes of exchange may have played much of the role that Marx attributed to
the means of production.
On a fourth plane of abstraction, prices become a source for the study of broad historical
movements. To look at the movement of prices in the United States during the nineteenth
century, for example, is to see many things through that one particular lens. In the ebb and flow
of American prices we may observe the cultural effect of the Jacksonian movement, the social
impact of the Civil War, the chronology of the industrial revolution and the geography of the
westward movement. Historical happenings as evanescent as moods of hope and fear may be
measured with high precision by a study of prices. In the history of the American Civil War, a
sensitive indicator of northern hopes was the changing price of government bonds from 1861 to
1865. A barometer of southern fears was the price of slaves as it rose and fell through the same
period. Price movements are a powerful source of inferential knowledge about changing
historical conditions and events.
At a still higher level of abstraction, prices may be studied as clues to the nature of
change itself. That is the purpose of this inquiry. Every period of the past has been a time of
change. The world is always changing—but not always in the same way. We shall find
empirical evidence of distinct “change-regimes” in the past that were often highly dynamic, but
stable in their dynamism. Sooner or later, even the strongest of these change-regimes broke
down in moments of what might be called “deep change.” When it did so, one system of change
yielded to another. Deep change may be understood as a change in the structure of change
itself. In the language of mathematics, deep change is the second derivative. It may be
calculated as a rate of change in rates of change.
The method of this inquiry is to describe and hopefully to explain the rhythm of change
regimes and deep change in price movements during the past eight hundred years. The purpose
is to enlarge our understanding not only of prices in particular, but also of change in general.
Large questions about the nature of change have tended to belong more to philosophers
than historians, and have been studied mostly by methods of deduction. The growing
accessibility of quantitative evi-dence allows us to convert a metaphysical conundrum into an
empirical question. Dr. Samuel Johnson would have understood. He once ob-served, “That,
sir, is the good of counting. It brings everything to a certainty, which before floated in the mind
indefinitely.”
The period from 1996 to 1999 is deeply interesting to an historian of prices. The long inflation
of the twentieth century has given way to a new disinflationary trend, and in some sectors to
actual deflation. We have been living through an era of “deep change,” when one “change
regime” yields to another.
To understand these new economic movements, one must look beyond the boundaries of
economics itself. The world-disinflation of the 1990s was driven mainly by demographic
events: most of all by sustained deceleration in rates of population growth. In many nations,
fertility rates have fallen nearly to the replacement level, or even below it. Demographers
believe that the leading cause is a change in the status of women, though other factors are
clearly involved.
The economic consequences of decelerating population growth are slowing demand and
downward pressure on prices throughout the world, which lead in turn to severe financial
crisis in economies that were organized on expectations of very rapid growth.
Social and cultural consequences have been positive. In that respect, this new era in price
history appears to be similar to periods of price equilibrium in the 15th, late 17th and 19th
centuries. It is marked by rapid declines in internal violence, family disruption, and
consumption of drugs and drink. Many leaders take personal responsibility for these new
trends. The true cause runs deep.
In other ways the new era of the late 1990s is entirely without precedent. A novel
tendency in a period of disinflation is a very powerful inflation of asset values, and especially
in the price of common stocks on many exchanges. Here again the cause is to be found outside
the conventional frame of economic analysis, in social and cultural tendencies that have caused
investment in certain classes of assets to increase more rapidly than the supply of assets
themselves. We might have a major problem here, in what an historian would call a shearing
effect, created by countervailing price movements.
Another problem operates on an entirely different level. In periods of deep change,
understanding lags behind the movement of events. The world changes faster than our thoughts
about it. For example, in the late 1990s, central bankers in many countries continued to think of
themselves as inflation-fighters in a new era when greater dangers rose from disinflation or
even deflation. Economists in the 1990s (monetarists especially) predicted that large increases
in the money supply would cause inflation to pick up again, as would have happened a
generation ago. But other factors have been more powerful.
In the United States problems of economic understanding have been compounded by the
effect of economic prosperity. The Japanese in World War II spike ruefully of shoribyo or
“victory disease.” The Greeks called it hubris, and thought that it always ended in the
intervention of the goddess Nemesis. That lady makes her appearance when wave-riders begin
to believe that they are wave-makers, at the moment when the great wave breaks and begins to
gather its energy again.
THE HISTORY OF PRICES is a history of change. A helpful perspective on the troubles of our time
is a remarkable record of English “consumable” prices since the year 1264, compiled with
great care by Henry Phelps-Brown and Sheila Hopkins. This index shows that market prices of
food, drink, fuel and textiles in the south of England have tended to rise for more than seven
hundred years, at an average rate of about one percent each year.2
Price-inflation has been a continuing problem in the past, but it has not been constant in its
rhythm, rate, or timing. Some eras have been more inflationary than others. A few have
experienced long-term price-equilibrium, and even deflation.
If we study the Phelps-Brown-Hopkins index and others like it, we find that most inflation
in the past eight centuries has happened in four great waves of rising prices. The first wave
continued from the late twelfth century to the early fourteenth century, and has been called the
medieval price-revolution. The second was the familiar “price-revolution of the sixteenth
century,” which actually began in the fifteenth century and ended in the mid-seventeenth. The
third wave started circa 1730, and reached its climax in the age of the French Revolution and
the Napoleonic Wars. It might be called the price-revolution of the eighteenth century. The
fourth wave commenced in the year 1896, and has continued since, with a short intermission in
some nations during the 1920s and early 1930s. It is the price-revolution of the twentieth
century.
Figure 0.01 links three different price series. The first is D. L. Farmer’s index of English
wheat prices in shillings from 1210 to 1275. The second is the Phelps-Brown-Hopkins price
index of consumables (grains, vegetables, meat, fish, butter, cheese, drink, fuel, light and
textiles) in shillings for southern England from 1264 to 1954. The third is the Ministry of Labor
index of British retail prices in pounds sterling, 1952–93. All are converted to a common base
of 1451–75=100. Sources include D.L. Farmer, “Some Livestock Price Movements in
Thirteenth Century England,” Economic History Review, 2d ser., 22 (1969) 15; E. H. Phelps-
Brown and Sheila Hopkins, “Seven Centuries of the Prices of Consumables, Compared with
Builders’ Wage-Rates,” Economica 23 (1956) 297–314; B. R. Mitchell and Phyllis Deane,
Abstract of British Historical Statistics (Cambridge, 1968) 740–41; idem, Second Abstract of
British Historical Statistics (Cambridge, 1971); B. R. Mitchell, International Historical
Statistics: Europe, 1750–1988 (New York, 1992); Annual Abstract of Statistics (London,
1972–1994).
These great waves were punctuated by periods of a different nature—when prices fell a
little, then found an equilibrium and fluctuated on a fixed plane. One such era, which might be
called the equilibrium of the twelfth century, coincided with the climax of medieval
civilization. Another could be named the equilibrium of the Renaissance (ca. 1400–1480). A
third may be thought of as the equilibrium of the Enlightenment (1660–1730). The fourth might
be remembered as the Victorian equilibrium, for it coincided with the life of Queen Victoria
herself. All of these periods of equilibrium were marked by fluctuations of high complexity.
None experienced long-term price-inflation.
This alternating rhythm of price-revolutions and price-equilibria was discovered as early
as the eighteenth century. It was studied during the 1930s by French economist François
Simiand, by Italian scholar Jenny Griziotti-Kretschmann, and by German agrarian historian
Wilhelm Abel.3
Abel’s work is still in print after fifty years, and strong in its empiricism. His purpose
was different from that of other scholars. Phelps-Brown and Hopkins had wanted to know
about the movement of monetized wages and prices. Abel was more interested in agricultural
conditions. He studied the price of grain alone, and converted it to kilograms of pure silver,
rather than measuring a market-basket of “consumables” in monetary units.
Abel found a wave-pattern that was similar in timing to the Phelps-Brown-Hopkins
series, but different in its trend. His revolutions in the price of grain rose more steeply than did
consumables in general, and were followed by periods of sharp decline rather than by price-
equilibrium. Even so, the same long waves appear in both series. They have been documented
in many studies, and are the most robust pattern of secular change in the history of prices—
more so than Kondratieff cycles or any other cyclical rhythm, which must be derived by
“detrending” the data.
This wave-pattern is familiar to European scholars, but it is not well known in the
English-speaking world. The reason why makes a story in its own right, and one that appears in
an appendix to this work. Suffice to say that when French historian Fernand Braudel mentioned
early modern wave-movements in a history of capitalism, American reviewers responded with
expressions of surprise, bewilderment, and outright disbelief.
Most historians in the United States are familiar only with one great wave, the price-
revolution of the sixteenth century. Its successor, the inflation of the eighteenth century, has
been much discussed by French scholars in relation to the revolution of 1789, but it is little
known in America or Britain where its effects were less dramatic. The medieval price-
revolution is even more obscure, because it is distant from our time and its sources are
inaccessible. The price-revolution of the twentieth century is misunderstood for opposite
reasons: the data are overwhelming, and the event is so close to us that we have trouble
thinking of it in historical terms.4
Figure 0.02 represents decennial movements in the price of grain in five European nations
from 1201 to 1960. It includes wheat in England, France and Italy; and rye in Austria and
Germany. Prices are decennial means, converted to silver equivalents (grams of pure silver
per 100 kilograms of grain). The source is Wilhelm Abel, Agrarkrisen und Agrarkonjunktur:
Eine Geschichte der Land und Ernährungswirtchaft Mitteleuropas seit dem höhen
Mittelalter (1935; Hamburg and Berlin, 1966), appendix. The raw data are from price lists of
Rogers, d’Avenel, Barolini, Parenti, Magaldi, and Fabris, listed in the bibliography.
Economists in the United States also have little memory of these historical events, except
for the price-revolution of the sixteenth century, which is distantly remembered as proving the
truth of the axiom that inflation is “always and everywhere primarily a monetary phenomenon,”
as the American economist Milton Friedman wrote in another context. Otherwise, the author
has found that price-revolutions in general are (with some exceptions) entirely unknown to
most economists, political leaders, social planners, business executives, and individual
investors, even as they struggle to deal with one price-revolution in particular.5
This collective amnesia is partly the consequence of an attitude widely shared among
decision-makers in America, that history is more or less irrelevant to the urgent problems
before them. An exception shows the power of this rule. In 1980, American economist Lester
Thurow advised his colleagues that they could not understand the inflationary surges of that era
without entering the distant realm that he quaintly called “the long ago.” By “the long ago,” he
meant the year 1965.6
There are signs that these attitudes may be changing. So turbulent and unpredictable have
been the events of the late twentieth century, that even the most atemporal minds have begun to
realize that history is happening to them. Academic interest in this subject also has a strong
wave-like rhythm of its own. The discipline of price history, which flourished during the
1930s, is now in the early stages of revival.
The purpose of this inquiry is to stimulate growing interest in this subject, by studying
each price-revolution in turn, and then by comparing one with another. We shall describe the
four great waves in their most important aspects: first, their timing, magnitude, rhythm,
volatility, and the sequence of secular change in price levels; second, the pattern of price
relatives for different types of commodities; third, the movement of real wages; fourth, the
pattern of change in rent and interest. The same questions will be asked about periods of price
equilibrium, one of which may be approaching.7
The second task is to explore the question of cause. Braudel himself believed that these
great waves were the strongest secular pattern in modern economic history, but he thought that
the task of explaining them was the “most neglected” problem in historiography, and
“impossible” to solve.
Even so, price historians in Europe have suggested seven causal explanations, which
might be called the monetarist, Malthusian, Marxist, neoclassical, agrarian, environmental, and
historicist models. Monetarists understand movements in the “general price level” as changes
in the value of money, caused mainly by variations in its quantity and velocity. Malthusians
think of price movements in a different way as a material representation of the changing value
of commodities that money might buy, caused primarily by imbalances between demographic
and economic growth. Marxists think that price movements represent the changing terms of
transactions within social systems, mainly between social classes. Neoclassical models
perceive prices as indicators of change in the flow of supply and demand, and explain price-
revolutions as the result of imbalances in market-relations, caused by various demand-centered
or supply-side events, or by changes in the structures of market-conditions themselves.
Agrarian approaches link prices mainly to harvest conditions. Environmental models
understand price-movements as ecological indicators which register imbalances between
human activity and its natural environment. Historicists explain things in their particulars, and
think of each price-revolution as a unique event with its own ad hoc explanation.
Each of these approaches has taught us something useful about their common subject. All
are flourishing today. The differences between them rise in large part from their assumptions
about what prices are, and what the world is made of. They are theoretical constructions, but
all of them also make strong empirical claims that can be tested against historical evidence.
This inquiry will attempt to frame another model that might combine their strengths and correct
their weaknesses.
The third assignment is consider the consequences of price-movements, or more precisely
the consequences of movements that prices represent. These consequences have been profound,
and never more so than in our own time. The darkest tendencies of our troubled era—the
growth of violence and drug use and family disruption which many people identify as the most
urgent social problems of our age— are closely connected to price movements (or, again, the
movements that prices represent). Most students of these social problems are entirely unaware
of these linkages, which bring a new perspective to an understanding of the causes of our
present discontents.
Some of the brightest moments in modern history have also been linked to the rhythm of
material events. This was so for the renaissance of the twelfth century, the renaissance of the
fifteenth century, the age of the enlightenment, and the Victorian era.
CHARTRES, September 8, 1224, the festival of the Virgin’s Birth. For more than a week, the
country roads to this cathedral town were clogged with crowds of pilgrims. Some were pious
peasants who wished to thank the Virgin for hearing their prayers. Others were worldly
merchants who came to buy and sell at the great market-fair called the Septembresce.
Their journey brought them to the golden plain of Beauce, prosperous wheat country in the
heart of France. In early September, the rolling fields were bright with ripening grain, and the
last scarlet poppies of the summer were still in bloom beside the dusty roads. In the distance,
footsore travellers could see their destination long before they reached it. The beautiful blue
silhouette of Chartres Cathedral soared high above the horizon, and was visible for many miles
across the open countryside.
The great building that loomed before them, and still stands today, was the seventh
cathedral of Chartres. The fate of the other six made a catalogue of medieval miseries. The
first had been wrecked by the Duke of Aquitania in 743, and the second had been ruined by the
Vikings in 843. The third cathedral had been destroyed in 962, and the fourth had been pulled
down in 1020. The fifth and sixth had burned in 1134 and 1194.
After each of these catastrophes, the people of Chartres acted quickly to rebuild a
structure that was vital to their faith and fortunes. In 1134 and again in 1194, they unhitched
animals from their carts and placed themselves in the traces to haul stone for the new
cathedral. That act of piety was remembered as the Cult of the Carts.
“At Chartres,” one chronicler wrote, “men began with their own shoulders to drag
wagons loaded with stone, wood, grain and other materials to the workshop of the church,
whose towers were then rising . . . one might observe women as well as men dragging [carts]
through deep swamps on their knees, beating themselves with whips.” People of every rank
joined in the Cult of the Carts. “Whoever heard in all the generations past,” another chronicler
wrote, “that kings, princes, mighty men of the world puffed up with honors and riches, men and
women of noble birth, should bind a bridle upon their proud and swollen necks and submit
themselves to wagons.”1
The new cathedral that they built at Chartres was one of Christendom’s holiest shrines. Its
sanctuary held the tunic that the Virgin Mary was thought to have worn when Jesus was born.
Many pilgrims purchased replicas of this garment. Others bought sacred shirts called
chemisettes which soldiers wore beneath their armor and pregnant women draped over their
swollen bellies. During the festival of the Virgin’s birth, the sale of these sacred articles
brought a large income to the people of Chartres.
In the year 1224, this cathedral town was the capital of Europe’s richest province—an
area of 13,000 square miles and a thousand churches. It was called the “great diocese” even in
Rome. The town had become a center of trade and industry, specially renowned for textiles,
weapons, and leather goods.
The hub of this thriving economy was the Cathedral itself. During the festival, much
buying and selling took place within the church. Food and firewood were sold inside the south
door. Manufactured goods were available at the north door, where buyers and sellers haggled
over prices. The side aisles of the nave became a labor-exchange, where artisans gathered in
anxious circles around employers. The crypt was given over to the wine merchants. The south
cloister was opened to the stalls of the money-changers. So lucrative were the rents paid by
these much-hated men that a lively competition developed for their business between the
Cathedral’s canons and deans, who controlled different parts of the building. The great
cathedral was both a religious and an economic institution.2
At the same time it was vital to its community in another way. Every great work of
architecture is a cultural symbol. Chartres was a case in point. The beautiful cathedral
perfectly symbolized an era that Charles Homer Haskins called the Renaissance of the twelfth
century.3 This was the period when medieval civilization reached its highest level of cultural
achievement. In the twelfth century, Romanesque architecture attained its peak of perfection. At
the same time, the new Gothic style appeared full blown in the cathedrals of Paris (1163) and
Canterbury (1175), as well as Chartres itself (1194). The people of France constructed more
than eighty new cathedrals, 500 abbeys and 10,000 parish churches during this era—a building
program that consumed more stone than the pyramids of Egypt, and more labor than the roads
of Rome.4
Great universities were founded at Paris, Oxford, Bologna and Salerno. Rapid progress
was made in the revival of classical learning. Immortal works of Europe literature were
recorded in the vernacular— Le Cid in Spain, the Nibelungenlied in Germany, the Chansons
de Geste in France, and the Arthurian Legends in Britain.
The twelfth century was also an epoch of high importance in political history. It was an
era of great kings. Henry II of England (1154–89), Frederick Barbarossa of Germany (1152–
90), Philip Augustus of France (1180–1223), and Alfonso II of Castile (1126–57) all claimed
the title of Emperor, and enlarged their power and dominions. The twelfth century was also the
great age of feudalism, when complex rules of chivalry and heraldry and primogeniture were
elaborately codified. It was a time when new charters were granted to towns, gilds, and
corporations. The twelfth century in Europe was marked by the simultaneous development of
monarchy, aristocracy and popular government in open and pluralistic systems that were
unique to the Western world. Power was broadly distributed among kings, clergy, nobles and
commons.
The twelfth century was an age of European expansion. The last major invasions by
Magyars, Saracens, and Moslems had come to an end by the year 1050. Thereafter, the
population of Europe slowly began to increase. It did so in northern Italy and southern France
as early as the year 1000. In Spain, historians still speak of the great repoblación that
commenced about 1150.
Europeans began to move outward. The first crusade began in 1096, and was followed by
many others in the 12th century. This also was the time of the Drang nach Osten—the
movement by Teutonic Knights into eastern Europe. It was the age of the great Scandinavian
migrations, west from Norway to North America, and east from Sweden to Russia.
All of these movements rose from an expanding demographic base. Families, cities,
markets, gilds, and fairs multiplied everywhere in Europe. Centers of commerce and industry
grew at a great rate. As late as the year 1100, Paris had been a small settlement, largely
confined for its own security to an island in the Seine. By 1215 it had become a city of perhaps
50,000 souls. The economy of medieval Europe rapidly developed from a comparatively
primitive system of barter exchange toward a more complex system of market relationships.
The growth of population and the increase of wealth were roughly in equilibrium during
the twelfth century. Prices remained comparatively stable throughout this period. The only
major economic problem was the so-called “money-famine” of the eleventh and twelfth
centuries—an event that would occur in most eras of price equilibrium throughout modern
history. The growth of population and prosperity had created demand for a larger circulating
medium. With precious metals in short supply, the people of Europe began to use what
historian David Herlihy calls “substitute money”—not barter or commodity money, but liquid
assets of high value called mobilia, such as silver jewelry, furs, fine textiles and even books.5
By the year 1100, the hunger for specie was so great that the canons of Pistoia’s St. Zeno
Cathedral melted down their great crucifix and used it for money. German princes sold their
imperial seals. English nobles exchanged their silver sword mounts, and French bishops
converted their golden chalices into cash. The theologian Fulbert of Chartres justified these
practices with the casuistry that it was better to sell sacred vessels to Christians than to pawn
them into the hands of Jews.6
This money-famine was only a hint of economic trouble in a period of high prosperity
throughout Europe. The architecture of Chartres Cathedral perfectly captured the soaring
optimism of its age. The geometry of its great rose windows symbolized a dynamic equilibrium
that had appeared in the economy of Europe. The solid strength of the cathedral building
embodied a union of social order and spiritual harmony. The bustle of commerce within its
walls represented the prosperity that seemed to have become a permanent part of western
culture in the early thirteenth century.
But it was not to be. Ironically, the era when Chartres was built was a time of a deep
change in European history—a moment when one change regime yielded silently to another.
Even as the great vault of the Cathedral was completed in the year 1224, dangerous stresses
were beginning to develop within the structure of medieval civilization.
A symptom of trouble, and also in part its cause, was a movement that might called the
medieval price revolution. This was a long wave of rising prices that began late in the twelfth
century, and continued to the middle of the fourteenth century.
In its earliest stage, the new trend was nearly imperceptible. It first appeared as a minor
price-flutter in medieval market-fairs such as the Septembresce. By the festival of 1224, the
pilgrims of Chartres would have noticed that prices were a little higher, especially for
firewood and food that was for sale inside the south door. Manufactured goods at the north
door were also up a little, but not as much as food and fuel. The money-changers were getting
more for their services, and the laborers who anxiously sought employment in the nave would
have noticed that wages were beginning to lag behind the rising cost of living.
All of these changes were still of minor magnitude in the year 1224. The price-revolution
had barely begun. But once underway, it would continue for more than a century. Many years
later it would end in a catastrophe so complete that scarcely anything of medieval civilization
survives today except the beautiful blue silhouette of Chartres Cathedral, which still soars
triumphantly above the scarlet poppies on the golden plain of Beauce.
Figure 1.02 analyzes patterns of change in English wheat prices (1330/1–1346/7 =100). Prices
are for harvest years (e.g., 1347 = Michaelmas, Sept. 29, 1346, to Michaelmas, Sept. 29,
1347). Data are from a price series by D. L. Farmer in H. E. Hallam, ed., The Agrarian
History of England and Wales, vol. 2, 1042–1350 (Cambridge, 1988), 779–91. Trends are
fitted with an Excel 5.0 program.
Even so, this great inflation of the medieval era was great because it was general
throughout the Western world, and because it continued for a very long time. It happened in
England, France, Italy, Germany, Iberia, and every other part of Europe where prices have
been studied.10 Throughout that broad region, its impact was not perfectly uniform. The pace of
inflation was comparatively rapid in the north of Italy, moderate in England and France, and
slowest in eastern and northern Europe; but no part of the Western world is known to have
escaped it.11
Why did medieval prices go up? Some historians find the cause in an expansion of the
money supply; others, in the growth of population. Both factors were involved, but population
appears to have been the prime mover. Before 1150, as we have seen, the population of Europe
had been slowly increasing. After 1170, its rate of gain accelerated. In Picardy, the rural
population doubled during the last quarter of the twelfth century (1175–1200), and kept
growing rapidly for three generations thereafter. Similar trends appeared in England, France
and Germany.12
Figure 1.03 compares the medieval price revolution in three parts of Europe, where trends
were much the same in the thirteenth century, but different in the play of contingent events
during the crisis of the fourteenth century. These data were compiled by Wilhelm Abel from
price series of Rogers (England); d’Avenel (France); Bartolini, Fabris, Magaldi and Parenti
(Italy). The source is Abel, Agrarkrisen und Agrarkonjunktur, appendix.
During the thirteenth century, large parts of rural Europe became more densely settled than
they would ever be again until the twentieth century. One study of the Lincoln fens on the east
coast of England finds that the number of inhabitants reached a level in 1287 that would not be
exceeded until 1950. Similar patterns have been discovered in the English counties of
Devonshire, Gloucestershire, Leicestershire, Cambridgeshire, Warwickshire and Norfolk.13
The cause of medieval population-growth was mainly an increase in fertility, not a
decline in mortality. After a long period of comparative stability and growing prosperity,
women throughout Europe married at earlier ages and decided to have more children. The
result was a medieval baby boom that began in the twelfth century and continued for many
years.14
This medieval baby boom had important economic consequences. It changed the age-
structure of the population. As long as it continued, a larger proportion were dependent
children. Fewer were mature adults in the prime of their productive years. This happened at
the same time that people needed more food, fuel, houses and land. Demand for life’s
necessities expanded more rapidly than supply could increase. Inexorably, prices went up.15
Figure 1.04 finds a strong association between prices and population growth in medieval
England. The sources for population are point estimates by H. E. Hallam (1983) and E. Miller
(1991); and for grain prices a series by D. L. Farmer, ail in The Agrarian History of England
and Wales, II, 537; III, 4–5.
Figure 1.05 shows the long rise of agricultural prices in Angevin England. As in other price
revolutions, the price of staple foodstuffs and energy led the advance, and were also the most
volatile. The source is D. L. Farmer, “Some Livestock Price Movements in Thirteenth Century
England,” Economic History Review 2d ser., 22 (1969) 15.
Not all prices increased at the same rate. The most rapid rises appeared in the price of
energy, food, shelter and raw materials— items most heavily in demand during a period of
population growth, and least elastic in their supply.16 Specially striking was the price of
energy. In England from 1261 to 1320, the price of firewood and charcoal rose faster and
farther than that of any other commodity. The cause was not hard to find. During the late twelfth
and thirteenth centuries, Europe rapidly cut down its forests, consumed its timber, and burned
its brushwood for fuel. Timber and charcoal began to be imported over increasing distances,
and the great coal fields of England, Belgium and France began to be exploited on a large scale
during this period. London suffered severely from smoke pollution in the thirteenth century.17
Close behind the soaring cost of energy came price-rises for food-stuffs of various kinds
—particularly for grain, meat, and dairy products that were the staples of life in medieval
Europe. This trend was evident everywhere in the Western world, where a grain market was
well established by the early thirteenth century.18
By contrast with energy and food, the price of finished manufactures such as cloth and
nails increased comparatively little—less than the cost of raw materials such as wool and iron.
The inflation of industrial prices was moderate, because the supply of manufactured goods
could be expanded more easily to meet rising demand.
A case in point was the cost of armor. This, the leading “consumer durable” in medieval
Europe, was mainly designed to make a more durable consumer. Iron skullcaps called coifs
were worn not merely by soldiers but also by traveling merchants who lived in a world where
consumer complaints were forcefully expressed. The price of iron coifs and body armor in the
thirteenth century behaved very much like that of washing machines and refrigerators in the
twentieth century. It rose in nominal terms, but fell in relation to other commodities for which
supply was less elastic.19
Altogether, historian Michael Postan observes that “movements of agricultural and
industrial prices did not synchronize” with one another during the medieval price-revolution.
This distinctive pattern of price-relatives was typical of a demand-inflation. It appeared in
every great wave without exception.20
Figure 1.06 represents the relative movement of commodity prices in England from 1261–70 to
1311–20. As in most price revolutions, the cost of energy and food rose most rapidly.
Manufactured goods lagged behind. Prices are decennial means, computed from raw data in J.
E. Thorold Rogers, A History of Agriculture and Prices in England, I, 1259–1400.
Figure 1.07 explores the impact of money on prices. It finds an association in movements
around the central tendency. Recoinages lowered prices; debasements inflated them. The
source is D. L. Farmer, “Some Livestock Price Movements in Thirteenth-Century England,”
Economic History Review, 2d ser., 22 (1969) 21.
Other responses to rising prices appeared in the movement of wages, rents and interest. In
the early stages of the great wave, wages had kept pace with prices, and during some decades
even increased more rapidly. But as inflation continued in the mid-thirteenth century, money
wages began to lag behind. As a consequence real wages fell, slowly at first, then with
growing momentum. By the late thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries real wages were
dropping at a rapid rate. In 1320 real wages in western Europe were 25 to 40 percent lower
than they had been a century before.35
At the same time that real wages fell, rents and interest rose sharply. Returns to
landowners generally kept pace with inflation and even exceeded it. The old notion that feudal
and manorial lords were hard pressed by falling real income during price-revolutions has been
contradicted by much research. In many parts of Europe, rents and land values increased even
more rapidly than the price of energy and food. The pioneering French price historian Georges
d’Avenel may have been the first to discover that rents reached very high levels during the late
thirteenth century—the “highest recorded levels in all of the Middle Ages.” Subsequent
research has solidly confirmed d’Avenel’s findings. The rate of increase in rent appears to
have been greater than 2 percent a year—twice the inflation of grain prices in the later stages
of the price-revolution.36
Figure 1.08 finds that returns to labor kept up with the rising cost of living in the beginning of
the medieval price revolution, but lagged behind in the later stages (circa 1265–1330). The
data are in D. L. Farmer, “Prices and Wages,” in H. E. Hallam, ed., The Agrarian History of
England and Wales, Volume II, 1042–1350 (Cambridge, 1988) 777.
Manorial lords had many ways of protecting their income against inflation. They could
impose new fines and feudal dues upon the peasantry, and often did so. They also possessed
monopolies of milling—in effect, owning the water and even the wind in their territories. The
chronicle of Jocelin de Brakelond tells of a free spirit named Herbert the Dean who built
himself a mill, and defended it with an argument that “free benefit of the wind ought not to be
denied to any man.” His lord was reduced to paroxysms of fury, and swore that “by God’s face
I will never eat bread till that building be thrown down.” Conflicts of this sort commonly
ended in the triumph of the lord.37
Figure 1.09 examines returns to landed capital in France and Germany, and finds that rents and
real estate values rose more rapidly than wages and the general price level. Sources include
Robert Fossier, La terre et les hommes en Picardie, 1:581; Karl Lamprecht, Deutsches
Wirtschaftsleben im Mittelalter (Leipzig, 1886) 2:614–615.
In the late thirteenth century, manorial lords aggressively expanded their economic
privileges. At St. Albans, just north of London, the Abbey constructed its own grist and fulling
mills, and forbade the inhabitants to take their grain and cloth anywhere else or even to process
them in their homes. The result was an insurrection in 1274. When Queen Eleanor passed
through St. Albans, she was met by a vast throng of weeping women, reaching out their hands
in supplication and crying “Domina, misere nobis.” The Queen tried to help them, but the
Abbot of St. Albans took his case to the King’s court and won. Strife continued at St. Albans
for many years, while the abbots waxed fatter and the peasants grew thinner. Similar scenes
were enacted throughout Europe.38
At the same time, rates of interest also rose very high. In the Italian city states, interest
charged in actual transactions increased from 12 percent a year before 1230, to 20 percent
later in the century. This rise was greater than the average increase of commodity prices. Real
interest rose at a time when real wages were falling.39
Men of wealth were able to profit by the price-revolution in many ways. Powerful Italian
merchants, for example, obtained laws that allowed them to insist on being paid in gold florins
or ducats which held their value, but permitted them to pay wages and taxes in silver coins
which were much debased. As a consequence, rich merchants grew richer, and the poor sank
deeper into misery and degradation.40
This growing gap between returns to labor and capital was typical of price-revolutions in
modern history. So also was its social result: a rapid growth of inequality that appeared in the
later stages of every long inflation. A case in point was the commune of Santa Maria
Impruneta, six miles south of Florence in the hills of Tuscany. In 1307, the richest tenth of
Impruneta’s families held about 33 percent of its wealth. By 1427, their holdings had increased
to 50 percent. At the same time the poor sank deeper into distress. The wealth of the bottom
half of the population sharnk from 21 percent to 6 percent. The rich were growing richer. At
the same time, much evidence survives of the rapid growth of rural poverty and homelessness
during the late thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.41
Yet another set of cultural responses to inflation created disparities of a different kind:
fiscal imbalances between public income and expenditures. Governments fell deep in debt
during the middle and later years of the thirteenth century. As spending outran revenues,
monarchs borrowed heavily from domestic and foreign merchants. In Constantinople, the last
Latin Emperor Baldwin II (1217–1273), was so hard pressed for ready cash between 1237 and
1261 that he surrendered the Crown of Thorns as collateral for loans by Venetian bankers.
Public deficits began to grow out of control—another dangerous tendency that developed in the
later stages of every price-revolution and gravely weakened the spring of government.42
Figure 1.10 finds that wealth inequality increased in the late stages of the medieval price
revolution, and the early years of the Renaissance equilibrium. The cause appears in figures
1.08 and 1.09: a rise in real returns to capital and a fall in real returns to labor. The evidence
consists in the distribution of assessed wealth in the Italian commune of Santa Maria
Impruneta, six miles south of Florence. Data are from the èstimi of 1307 and 1330, and the
catasto of 1427, in David Herlihy, “Santa Maria Impruneta: A Rural Commune in the Late
Middle Ages,” in Nicolai Rubenstein, ed., Florentine Studies (Evanston, 1968), 242–76. The
data are organized in a Lorenz Curve which measures wealth shares in the population by
decile.
The Third Stage: Growing Instability
In the late thirteenth century, the medieval price-revolution entered another stage, marked by
growing instability. Prices rose and fell in wild swings of increasing amplitude. Inequality
increased at a rapid rate. Public deficits surged ever higher. The economy of western Europe
became dangerously vulnerable to stresses that it might have managed more easily in other
eras.
In the late thirteenth century, the growth of population was pressing very hard against
resources. Many people found themselves living precariously near the edge of survival. As the
number of people increased, lands of lesser quality had been brought into cultivation. Farmers
on these poor lands had to work much harder to scratch a living from the soil. Production and
productivity fell for both land and labor. Many were driven to the margin of subsistence.43
For peasant farmers in that situation, the most immediate perils arose from changes in the
weather. Throughout western Europe, the size of the harvest had always varied from one
season to the next. Rainfall was the vital factor. In Europe, unlike other parts of the world, the
great danger was too much rain rather than too little. Heavy rains in midsummer beat down the
ripening grain and rotted it in the fields. Wet years, more than dry ones, brought short crops and
soaring prices.
There had been seasons of scarcity even in the best of times. Most years had their dreaded
disettes, which were the intervals that came after the last grain crop had run out, and before the
new crop came in. Disettes occurred even in normal years. When things went wrong there
were grand disettes, and scarcity became starvation. From 1260 to 1320, the rhythm of grain
prices in England and Wales showed that grand disettes increased in frequency, severity and
duration. Similar patterns appeared in greater or lesser degree throughout western Europe. In a
time when people were living closer to the margin, the effect of harvest fluctuations was to
create dangerous instabilities.44
Even in normal times, the margin was so narrow that a shortage of only 10 percent in the
harvest caused severe suffering among impoverished peasant families. A shortfall of 20
percent meant starvation. And these were not normal times. The social effect of even small
variation in the climate was enlarged by a growing imbalance between population and
resources.
Within the villages of medieval Europe, the effect of harvest fluctuations on farm prices
was compounded by other problems in medieval markets. Agricultural conditions were apt to
vary from one region to another, even from one village to the next. The transportation of bulk-
commodities such as wheat or barley across the countryside was not easy in the thirteenth
century. Scarcity and surplus often existed within a few miles of one another. In Normandy
during the year 1180, wheat fell to one livre at Norrancourt where the market was glutted. At
the same time, the price was ten livres at Mortain and sixteen livres on the Cotentin peninsula,
which suffered a shortage. These places were only a few miles apart.45
Added to market problems were monetary disturbances. As prices rose in western
Europe, governments manipulated their coinage with an increasingly heavy hand: sometimes
debasing it by reducing the quantity of silver; sometimes restoring its value by recoinages.
These repeated acts had an impact upon price levels. Debasements drove prices up; recoinages
brought them down again. Economic historian David L. Farmer has shown that the price of
oxen fell after each recoinage in England during the thirteenth century.46
The effect of repeated recoinages and debasements in the thirteenth century was to
increase the instability of markets and prices. When one medieval state debased its coinage,
merchants responded by carrying their silver to another kingdom and having it reminted in a
currency that held its value. In France, for example, Philip the Fair debased his silver coins so
severely that Geoffroi de Paris protested that “the king was playing the magician, transforming
60 into 20 and 90 into 30.”47
Moneyed men carried their silver across the channel, and had it struck as English sterling.
In 1305, John de Everdon, England’s Warden of the Exchange, reported that the “merchants
were daily bringing silver there in great quantities,” so much so that the mint was running six
weeks behind. The quantity of England’s money supply surged from 1305 to 1310, and prices
of even the most humble commodities increased sharply. Eggs, which had cost less than four
pence a hundred before 1305, suddenly rose above sixpence in 1306. The price of a laying hen
doubled, from one penny to more than twopence. A historian of this sudden inflation concludes
that the leading cause was a change in the size of the money supply.48
Exchange rates also became highly unstable in the fourteenth century. Governments tried
to stabilize their fragile economies by imposing export controls. The effect was often the
opposite of what was intended. England’s Edward I, for example, tried to make things better by
forbidding the export of English coins in 1299. By 1307, he had prohibited the removal of
foreign money as well. He also pegged gold at an artifically high level relative to silver. These
policies caused increasing distortions in exchange rates, which in turn created dislocation in
English trade.49
Other sources of instability were financial in their nature. In the late thirteenth century, a
major crisis led to the disruption of credit and banking in the western world. The great Italian
banks dangerously overextended themselves by lending heavily to monarchs and private
borrowers. These loans were highly lucrative—for a time. They brought prosperity to the north
of Italy, and especially to the city of Siena, which in the words of one leading historian was
“for seventy-five years the main banking center of Europe.” As Siena flourished in the
thirteenth century, its citizens began to build a great cathedral which was intended to be the
largest in Europe. The magnificent architecture of its central square, which today delights so
many tourists, was created by the prosperity of this era.50
In the year 1298, Siena’s banking boom came suddenly to an end, with the failure of its
greatest bank, the Gran Tavola of the Buonsignori. This was a world bank, with agents
throughout Europe and the Mediterranean basin. Among its borrowers were great merchants,
cities, nobles, kings and even the Pope himself. Increasing numbers of these loans went sour. In
the year 1298, a banking panic began in Siena. The Buonsignori managed to hold things
together for nearly a decade, but finally in 1307 the great bank collapsed. Many lesser
enterprises failed with it.
The economy of Siena did not recover from this disaster for many years. Work on the
great cathedral was abandoned. The building stands today in the same unfinished state as when
workers downed tools in the fourteenth century. The city’s magnificent central square is still
frozen in time—a fiscal Herculaneum that had been engulfed by the great wave of the thirteenth
century.51
Siena’s loss was at first a gain for the city of Florence. In the early fourteenth century
there were three great Florentine banks—the Bardi, Peruzzi and Acciaiuoli—and many smaller
ones such as the Mozzi, Franzesi, Pulci, Rimbertini, Frescobaldi and Scali. Some of these
enterprises grew even larger than the Sienese houses that had preceded them. The bank of the
Peruzzi, for example, had fifteen branches throughout the world, and was bigger than the
Medici Bank would ever become.
The big Florentine banks made foreign loans to the kings of England and Naples. This
was a dangerous business. Once it had begun, the loans grew inexorably larger. The banks
could not call them in, for fear of default or confiscation. The results were inexorable.
Early in the fourteenth century Florentine banks began to fail. The Mozzi went under in
1302, the Franzesi in 1307, the Pulci and Rimbertini in 1309, the Frescobaldi in 1312, and the
Scali in 1326. Six houses failed in 1342. Then, in 1343 and 1346, the three great houses of the
Peruzzi, Acciaiuoli and Bardi all collapsed with a great crash. Not for many years would
banking enterprise recover in Tuscany.
Behind these events, many factors were operating at the same time: climatological,
demographic, monetary, commercial, fiscal and financial. Together they unsettled social
relationships throughout Europe, and caused deep suffering among the poor.
Monarchs attempted to impose price regulations with little success. In the fourteenth
century, powerful elites condemned price controls as unnatural, ineffectual and immoral, much
as other economic moralists would do in the twentieth century. The Canon of Bridlington wrote
in 1316, “How contrary to reason is an ordinance on prices, when the fruitfullness or sterility
of all living things are in the power of God alone, from which it follows that the fertility of the
soil and not the will of man must determine the price.”
The arguments of medieval theologians differed in detail from those of modern
neoclassical economists, but the conclusions were much the same. Price controls were
condemned in the fourteenth century both as constraints upon the free market, and as violations
of the will of God. In every price-revolution, as we shall see, propertied and powerful elites
would oppose economic controls and profit by their absence.
As prices rose and fell and rose again, complex linkages and multipliers began to operate.
Rising prices led to a need for larger stocks of silver and gold, which drove prices higher still.
Great kingdoms and small city states teetered on the edge of bankruptcy. They struggled to
survive by borrowing heavily at ruinous rates of interest, and by debasing their money, thereby
introducing powerful instabilities into the price system of western Europe. Manorial lords
maintained their incomes by raising rents. A growing peasant population brought marginal
lands into cultivation, causing productivity to fall. More workers competed for fewer jobs, and
wages lagged behind price increases. As real wages fell, the margin of subsistence became
paper-thin. There was less security against any sort of trouble, at a time when danger was
increasing. Medieval Europe had come to the edge of disaster.
The Crisis of the Fourteenth Century
The first years of the fourteenth century were a time of dark foreboding for the suffering
peasantry of Europe. The economy of the Western world was in deep disorder. Material
inequalities had dangerously increased. The growth of population far outpaced the means of its
subsistence. The cost of food and firewood surged to high levels. Poverty and hunger increased
in many parts of the Western world.
Then, in the summer of 1314, the weather turned cold and very wet. Rain fell incessantly.
Crops rotted in the fields. Grain harvests were late and desperately short. In England,
Parliament asked King Edward II to impose price controls on farm products. He speedily did
so. Royal sheriffs rode through the realm proclaiming maximum prices for food, poultry and
livestock.
These disturbances seemed at first to be merely another routine disaster of a sort that had
often afflicted medieval Europe. Crops had fallen short before. In the winter of 1314, people
tightened their belts and prayed for better times.
But the next harvest was worse. The spring of 1315 brought heavy rain throughout Europe.
Stormy weather lashed the continent for months. Dikes collapsed in England and the Low
Countries. Entire fields washed away in France. Villages were destroyed by rising rivers in
Germany. Once again grain and fodder crops failed. This was not merely a set of local
shortages. It was, in the words of historian Henry Lucas, “a universal failure of crops in 1315 .
. . from the Pyrenees to Slavic regions, from Scotland to Italy.”1
In England during the year 1315, the price of wheat rose eightfold, from five shillings to
as much as forty shillings. Hungry livestock sickened and died. The chronicles tell of a “great
murrin” which took a heavy toll of domestic animals. Impoverished peasants ate cats, rats,
reptiles and insects. Many tried to survive on animal droppings. Others ate the leaves from the
trees. In London, Paris, Ypres, Breslau and Utrecht, the streets were littered with dying people.
Gangs of starving laborers roamed the countryside in search of food. Crime became
widespread—mostly the theft of food, or anything that could be exchanged for food.2
The economy of Europe, already dangerously fragile, disintegrated under a stress that it
might have survived at another time. People sought scapegoats for their suffering. Millers and
bakers became favorite targets. In France, the people of Paris staged a mass punishment of
bakers who had been found guilty of mixing their flour with animal droppings. Sixteen bakers
were lashed to wheels in public squares and made to hold bits of rotten bread in outstretched
hands, while they were beaten and reviled by the multitude.3
Figure 1.11 measures annual harvest prices as a percent of decennial means. Abundant crops
drove prices down; scarcity sent them up again. The impact of scarcity grew more severe as
the price revolution continued, reaching a peak in 1315–17, the worst famine in European
history. This graph is created from price series in James E. Thorold Rogers, A History of
Agriculture and Prices in England, vols. I & II.
In England, even the King felt the famine. One chronicle recorded that “when Edward II
with his household stopped at St. Albans at the Feast of St. Laurence [August 10], it was
practically impossible to procure bread for his court.” But large hoards of grain remained in
the hands of kings and noblemen in the west, and Teutonic Knights in the east, and great abbeys
throughout Europe. The ruling few of Europe were slow to open their granaries to feed the
starving many. All of these things happened in the year 1315.4
Then, inconceivably, torrential rains came again in 1316. The grain crop failed a third
year in a row. Europe began to experience the worst famine in its history. When other sources
of food ran out, people began to eat one another. Peasant families consumed the bodies of the
dead. Corpses were dug up from their burying grounds and eaten. In jails the convicts ceased
to be fed; we are told that starving inmates “ferociously attacked new prisoners and devoured
them half alive.” Condemned criminals were cut down from the gallows, butchered, and eaten.
Parents killed their children for food, and children murdered their parents.5
The death toll in this famine is unknown. It must have been very large. The town of Ypres,
with a population of perhaps 25,000 souls, counted 2,794 burials at public expense from May
to October, 1316, not including many others whose families paid for their interments. More
than 10 percent of the population died in pauperis within the span of less than six months.
Many other deaths must have gone unrecorded. Ypres was not unique in its suffering. Some
historians estimate that a tenth of Europe’s teeming population perished in the years 1315 and
1316.6
In the wake of famine, epidemics began to break out. Both people and animals suffered
from a nameless pestilence that spread swiftly through the continent. Some of its symptoms
were similar to those of modern anthrax; others were more like ergotism and dysentery.
Probably this was a polydemic of many different diseases, including some that may be
unknown to modern science.
Famine, epidemics and oppression were followed by an increase in crime. As price-
movements became more volatile, every surge in the cost of living was accompanied by a
sudden increase in criminal violence. Most of these crimes were thefts and robberies by
desperate men and women. Many were homicides, assaults and acts of rage against the cruel
suffering that had been visited upon so many people.
There were also acts of collective violence and insurrection. In rural France, a movement
called the Pastoureaux spread rapidly through the countryside. A great mass of peasants and
laborers gathered in the northwest, and began marching south and east toward the Holy Land,
gaining numbers as they went. On the way, the Pastoureaux attacked castles, sacked
monasteries, burned archives, released convicts, slaughtered Jews, murdered Lepers, and
settled scores with the nobility for many centuries of oppression. They spread terror among the
possessing classes, until finally they were dispersed and hanged by the hundreds. Their gaunt
bodies dangled from the branches of trees throughout the south of France.
Figure 1.12 compares the price of wheat in Norfolk (silver shillings per quarter) with criminal
indictments in the same county. Crimes (in order of frequency) include larceny, burglary,
homicide, robbery, receiving stolen goods, treason, counterfeiting, arson, and rape. The source
is Barbara Hanawalt, Crime and Conflict in English Communities (Cambridge, Mass., 1979),
243, 279.
While these disorders spread through the western world, yet another misery was inflicted
upon the people of Europe. As if famine, pestilence, and social violence were not suffering
enough, this period became a time of bloody war between the sovereign states of Europe.
“Wars are not evenly distributed throughout the centuries,” writes A. R. Bridbury, “they come
in clusters.” He observed that one such run of conflicts began in the year 1294, and continued
for fifty years. Major wars occurred between Scotland and England, England and France,
France and Flanders; many smaller conflicts broke out between German, Swiss and Italian
city-states. Warfare had been endemic in medieval Europe, but Bridbury and others find that its
incidence greatly increased after the year 1294.7
Incessant wars caused economic dislocation—both directly by the destruction that they
visited upon the countryside, and indirectly by their heavy costs as well. A large part of public
spending went for war at the moment when Europe could least afford it.8
Domestic insurrections also occurred in many parts of Europe, with similar result. In
Rome a rebellion broke out against Boniface VIII, a pope who was hated for his despotism and
despised for his impiety. The people of Rome took him prisoner and forced him to resign his
office. He died shortly afterward—of humiliation, the faithful believed. Others suspected
poison. His successor Benedict XI was murdered, and the papacy fled to Avignon in 1305.
There it remained in opulent exile for more than seventy years.
Even Venice, the most stable of Italian city-states, suffered the only major insurrection in
its thousand-year history—an uprising called Tiepolo’s Rebellion in 1310. It was suppressed
by a vigilante group called the Council of Ten, which made itself a permanent part of the
Venetian government, along with secret police, anonymous informers, savage torture, arbitrary
imprisonment, and an apparatus of official terror which today is exhibited to tourists in the
Doge’s Palace. This system of repression was the price of stability in the Venetian republic.
In the monarchies of northern Europe, nobles turned against their kings and toppled them
from their thrones. An aristocratic revolution was organized against England’s Edward II and
his supporters of the hated Despenser family, whose name had become a byword for avarice
and oppression. In September 1324, when the people of England were groaning under the
weight of their accumulated miseries, the young Hugh Despenser had accumulated large
deposits in Italian banks. This money had been extracted from starving peasants on his estates
and from the profits of his offices. Despenser and his father so outraged their countrymen that
they were seized by the rebels and summarily executed. Young Hugh Despenser’s head was
triumphantly displayed on London Bridge, “with much tumult and the sound of horns.”
For England’s much-hated King Edward II, a worse fate was in store. He was forcibly
deposed and cast into a deep dungeon at Berkeley Castle in the west of England. His captors
faced a dilemma. They could not let him live, but neither could they appear to kill their
sovereign. They solved their problem by inventing a unique method of execution that left no
visible marks. The king was seized and tightly bound. A red-hot iron was driven slowly
upward through his anus until it penetrated his brain. It is said that his dying screams could be
heard for miles across the Severn Valley. The folk memory of this event is still alive in
Gloucestershire. Some swear that the death cry of Edward II can still be heard in the silence of
a moonless night.
That savage act of regicide was not an isolated horror. The people of Flanders rose
against their hated French masters in 1302, and killed many of them in an epic slaughter called
the Matin de Bruges. Then they defeated the French nobility in the Battle of the Spurs at
Courtrai. In France, King Louis X (remembered as Louis the Quarrelsome) was deposed in
1316. Twelve years later, the Capetian dynasty collapsed after more than three centuries in
power.
In Sweden after 1290, a civil war between royal brothers ended in a popular insurrection,
in the expulsion of King Birger in 1319 and in the collapse of royal authority. Denmark
dissolved into anarchy after 1332, when King Christopher II was deposed by Gerhard Count
Holstein, who was murdered in his turn. The Holy Roman Empire suffered a protracted civil
war between contending parties called Guelfs and Ghibbelines. The popes were driven into
exile for seventy years, and in Rome a popular revolution led by Cola di Rienzi overthrew the
city’s patriciate. The Italian city-states were consumed by internal conflict. Florence, unable to
govern itself, invited a tyrant named Walter of Brienne, Duke of Athens, and soon found its
liberties crushed beneath his heel.
Order also collapsed throughout eastern Europe. In the year 1304, an army of 6,000
Catalonian mercenaries laid waste to broad areas of Thrace and Macedonia. The Ottoman
Turks first appeared in the early years of the fourteenth century, attacking the Byzantine Empire
and capturing Greek cities in Asia Minor. The Tartars rode eastward from the steppes as far as
the plains of Hungary, and for a time gained effective control of Russia.
These disorders, cruel as they may have been, were not the worst of Europe’s sufferings.
Famine, pestilence, war and insurrection returned repeatedly to Europe during the 1320s and
1330s. Some places—Tuscany for example—suffered worse famines in the period 1328–30
than in 1315–20. Prices surged and declined in great swings. The rural population shrank,
arable lands began to be abandoned, and peasants grew poorer.
At the same time, some of the rich continued to grow richer. This was the period when the
French popes lived in high luxury at Avignon. Pope John XXII (1316–34) spent vast sums for
jewels and ornaments and gold cloth for his vestments. Papal banquets were served on gold
plate beneath gilded frescoes and ceilings. Petrarch protested that even the papal horses were
“dressed in gold, fed on gold, and soon to be shod in gold if God does not stop this slavish
luxury.” The cardinals accumulated great wealth; one Prince of the Church required 51 houses
for his servants. Similar scenes were enacted in royal courts and noble households.
At the same time, many small seigneurs were caught up in the general misfortunes. A
study of the Norman seignury finds evidence of a “sharp collapse of rents” in the fourteenth
century, caused mainly by the decline of population, after the long rise of the thirteenth
century.9
Meanwhile, the peasants suffered and the poor starved. The generation born in this age of
crisis was so debilitated by hunger, disease, exploitation, war and disorder that a few years
later it succumbed to a still greater catastrophe, the worst in world history.10 In 1346 a Tartar
army besieged the Genoese town of Caffa (now Feodosia) in the Crimea. The attackers were
stricken by plague, and converted their misfortune into a weapon of war—catapulting their
dead into the city in a deliberate attempt to spread the infection. This tactic succeeded so well
that the Genoese abandoned the city and fled in their galleys through the Black Sea, the Aegean
and the Mediterranean, carrying with them the plague that came to be called the Black Death.
By October 1347, the Black Death had established itself in Sicily, and spread swiftly to
Africa, Sardinia, Corsica and the mainland of Europe. In January 1348, it reached Venice,
Genoa and Marseilles, where 56,000 people died. By June it crossed the Alps and Pyrenees.
England was infected by December, and Scotland and Scandinavia by 1349. A few cities
miraculously escaped—Milan, Nuremberg, Liège, and several fortunate regions such as Bearn,
as well as much of eastern Germany and Poland where the population was sparse.
But most of Europe felt the full force of the epidemic. Great centers of commerce and
culture suffered severely. The plague found a vulnerable population that had outstripped the
means of its subsistence and was already beginning to decline. Historian Philip Ziegler writes,
“Whatever one’s thesis about the inevitability of the Black Death, it cannot be denied that it
found awaiting it in Europe a population singularly ill-equipped to resist. Distracted by wars,
weakened by malnutrition, exhausted by his struggle to win a living from his inadequate
portion of ever less fertile land, the medieval peasantry was ready to succumb even before the
blow had fallen.”11
We shall never know how many people died in the Black Death. Among England’s parish
clergy, whose deaths were comparatively well recorded, something like 45 percent are known
to have perished. Most scholars believe that the death toll in the general population was
smaller, but still very large. Many historians estimate that Europe lost between 25 and 40
percent of its inhabitants. Altogether, the European population fell from approximately 80
million at its peak in the early fourteenth century to 60 million or less after the Black Death—
the largest decline in the cruel history of that continent.12
Figure 1.14 measures the catastrophic impact of the Black Death (1348) on two communities
25 miles northeast of London. A meticulous study by L. R. Poos also finds that the fall of
population began as early as 1310 and continued in Great Waltham as late as 1400. The source
is L. R. Poos, “The Rural Population of Essex in the Later Middle Ages,” Economic History
Review 2nd ser., 38 (1985) 22.
This great depopulation had many economic consequences. The price of food rose sharply
during the epidemic years, then began to fall very rapidly as there were fewer mouths to feed.
At the same time prices of manufactured goods tended to rise, partly because artisans and
craftsmen could demand higher wages, and also because of dislocations in supply. These
countervailing trends—falling agricultural prices and rising industrial prices—were called by
Thorold Rogers a “price scissors.” Their effect was particularly severe after the catastrophe of
the fourteenth century, but they were not unique to this period. Similar movements would also
occur in every other price-revolution. In the years that followed the Black death, the “price
scissors” added much to Europe’s miseries.13
The catastrophe of the fourteenth century was followed by cultural disintegration. Jews
and foreigners were massacred. Among Christians, the practice of flagellation spread rapidly
in cities and the countryside. Processions of Christians scourged one another until their bare
backs ran red with blood. Entire villages and towns were abandoned, the doors and shutters of
the vacant buildings creaking sadly in the wind. Empty churches and deserted castles fell into
ruin. Grass grew in the marketplaces, and the country roads that had been thronged with
pilgrims were reclaimed by weeds and brush.
In the period from 1314 to 1348, the great wave crested and broke in a shattering
catastrophe. As it did so, the people of Europe suffered through the darkest moment in their
history: a terrible time of starvation and pestilence, insurrection and war, persecution and
political chaos. This was more than merely the collapse of the medieval economy. It was the
death of medieval civilization.
Figure 1.15 shows the impact of the long crisis of the fourteenth century on Pistoia, an Italian
city state thirty kilometers northwest of Florence. The source is David Herlihy, Medieval and
Renaissance Pistoia: The Social History of an Italian Town, 1200–1430 (New Haven, 1967),
70. Each campaign reduced large areas to anarchy, and left in its wake wandering gangs of
mercenaries and freebooters who preyed upon the peasantry. Some of these bands were as big
as a modern infantry brigade. When they passed through a rural region, they left a wide swath
of devastation.
For self-defence, French peasants converted their stone churches into castles. The clang
of bells that had summoned families to worship in time of peace now sounded a warning tocsin
when raiders were in the neighborhood. In the beautiful Loire Valley, peasants retreated at
night to islands in the river. In Picardy, they moved underground into tunnels and caves with
hidden entrances. Another dark age had descended upon Europe.3
One consequence was a continuing decline of population. The number of inhabitants did
not merely fall during the great plague year of 1348. In many parts of Europe it kept on falling,
in a long contraction that persisted from 1315 to 1400. A careful Danish study of farms on the
manors of the Bishops of Roskilde near Copenhagen found that the proportion of abandoned
houses increased steadily for sixty years after the Black Death. The decline of rural population
reached its nadir not in 1348 but half a century later, in the period 1401–20.4
Figure 1.16 measures the impact of falling population on farm tenancy in Denmark. Here again
we find evidence not of a single catastrophe but of a long decline that reached its nadir circa
1400. A large literature on the W stungsproblem (“lost village question”) finds similar trends
throughout Europe. The source is C. A. Christensen, “Aendringerne i landsbyens Økonomiske
og sociale strukur i det 14. og 15. århundrede,” Historisk Tidsskrift 12 (1964) 346.
At the same time that Europe’s population continued to fall and social unrest continued, an
economic problem developed. Money began to disappear. Europe’s stock of silver and gold
contracted sharply during the late fourteenth century. Historian John Day writes, “for the better
part of two decades the European economies were scourged by a genuine scarcity of money.”
In the violence of the fourteenth century, much silver and gold had been lost. Some of it
disappeared into forgotten hordes that are being rediscovered even today. At the same time the
West had an unfavorable balance of trade with Asia, and specie drained rapidly away. Imports
of gold from Africa also declined, and many silver mines in central Europe were abandoned or
became less productive.
After 1390, a severe monetary famine developed. In France, the low point was reached
during the year 1402, when the minting of money virtually came to an end. In Florence, the
minting of silver coins ceased entirely from 1392 to 1402. In London, the entire output of the
Royal Mint was merely eight pounds in silver pennies during the year 1408. The mints of
Flanders closed altogether. Only Venetian gold ducats, which have been called “the dollar of
the middle ages,” continued to be struck in quantity; and even in Venice silver was in short
supply. This money famine was part of a deep economic depression that continued to the end of
the fourteenth century.5
The decline of population and scarcity of money had a powerful effect on European
prices.6 In Pistoia, famine and plague had reduced the population from more than 40,000 souls
in the late thirteenth century to less than 14,000 by the early fifteenth. Houses and estates fell
empty; rents and land values declined roughly in proportion to the loss of population. Grain
prices also came down, but the growing scarcity of labor caused wages to rise.7 The money-
income of unskilled workers in Pistoia doubled from 1349 to 1400, and real wages (measured
in terms of purchasing power) increased in even greater proportion. These trends appeared
generally throughout Europe.8
In the midst of these many tendencies, an important social transformation began to take
place. From the long travail of the fourteenth century, a new society was born. Forms of status
and obligation were altered in fundamental ways. England and western Europe underwent an
economic process that historian M. M. Postan summarizes as the “commutation of labour
services and the emancipation of serfs.” Similar trends also occurred in the cities of northern
Italy, where urban workers improved their material condition. A major cause was the scarcity
of labor that allowed workers to bargain for better terms. This process continued for nearly a
century after the Black Death.
Angry social conflicts broke out as a consequence of this assertiveness. Among them was
the Jacquerie in France (1358), a rebellion of peasants against their masters. Another was the
revolt of the Ciompi in Florence (1378), when the popolo minuto rose violently against the
ruling families of that city.9 A third was England’s great Peasant Rebellion (1381). In that year
there was a insurrection in East Anglia, and the Kentish Rising of Wat Tyler who led his
followers into the streets of London. In many places, peasants burned the manorial rolls that
recorded their servile obligations.10
These rebellions were suppressed, but the conditions that produced them had lasting
consequences. In Postan’s words, a “rapid withering away of servile dues and disabilities”
transformed social relationships. Vestiges of the old obligations remained for many
generations, but Postan concludes that “in general rural serfdom had gone out of the land, and
was all but forgotten by the time Queen Elizabeth ascended the throne of England [in 1558].”
This transition would have momentous consequences in English history during the early
modern era. England was ahead of France and Germany, and eastern Europe lagged far behind,
but similar trends were stirring in many parts of the Western world.11
At the dawn of the fifteenth century, economic conditions began at last to stabilize in
Europe. Prices ceased falling and began to fluctuate in a more regular way. A long period of
comparative equilibrium followed in the fifteenth century.
Once again, the city of Pistoia represented the general trend. Historian David Herlihy
writes, “After about 1400, Pistoia’s agricultural economy was attaining a new equilibrium, and
was achieving a real if moderate prosperity. Declining commodity prices bespeak a returning
abundance, and profits to investors, reaching 12 percent by the century’s end, registered a
distinct if modest gain. Among the factors which contributed to the new rural prosperity was
the stabilization and then steady growth of the rural population. . . . Population and social
tumult was largely, if not finally, calmed. . . . The new agricultural system of the fifteenth
century . . . provided Pistoia’s Renaissance society with a firm and stable basis for its political
life and for its cultural growth.”12
Similar trends appeared throughout northern Italy. Outbreaks of mortal disease continued,
but they happened less frequently after 1400, and their effects were less severe. The size of
harvests continued to fluctuate from year to year, but the magnitude of price-variations slowly
diminished during the fifteenth century. The Italian city-states entered a long period of slow
recovery, stable growth and dynamic equilibrium in economic and demographic movements
(circa 1405–80). The urban populations of Venice, Florence and Siena began to increase again,
though still remaining smaller than before the Black Death. Commerce and industry revived,
real wages rose buoyantly, and commodity prices continued to decline and stabilize.13
Figure 1.17 shows a growth of stability in harvest prices from 1390 to 1480. Fluctuations
continued, but magnitudes diminished through nearly a century. Major shortages became
progressively less severe. This annual series (as a percent of decennial means) is computed
from data in J. E. Thorold Rogers, A History of Agriculture and Prices in England, vol. 2.
Italy was more advanced in these tendencies than other parts of Europe. North of the
Alps, disorder and instability persisted for another generation or longer. The people of France
suffered through three terrible periods of anarchy, pestilence, war and famine in the early
fifteenth century. During the years from 1413 to 1420, France was afflicted with an insane
monarch (Charles VI), an impotent government, an English invasion, and an internal rebellion
led by a skinner named Simon Caboche. French prices rose to a great height during these
disorders. They went even higher in 1428–30, when an English army besieged Orleans and
burned a Saint, Jeanne d’Arc, at Rouen in 1431. A third time of troubles in France occurred
during the years 1437–39, a period of grand disettes, the return of plague, and the anarchy of
the ecorcheurs. In each of these three eras, French prices surged to very high levels.14
Figure 1.18 shows the long decline of grain prices that continued from 1360 to 1480 in most
parts of Europe. The central tendency was stable for more than a century. The source is
Wilhelm Abel, Agrarkrisen und Agrarkonjunktur, 66; for similar trends in France, see
d’Avenel, Histoire économique, 2:518.
Figure 1.19 shows a long decline in rent from 1360 to 1460, when wages were rising. It also
shows a rise in rent after 1460, when the next price-revolution was underway. Sources include
David Herlihy, Medieval and Renaissance Pistoia (New Haven, 1967), and Guy Bois, Crise
du feodalisme: Économie rurale et démographie en Normandie orientale du début du 14e
siècle au milieu du 16e siècle (Paris, 1976).
Figure 1.20 shows a strong rise in real wages from 1351 to 1475, while prices were falling.
After 1476, when the next price revolution began, real wages began to come down. The source
is Henry Phelps-Brown and Sheila V. Hopkins, A Perspective of Wages and Prices (New
York, 1981), 28–31; Georges d’Avenel, Histoire économique de la propriété, des salaires,
des denrées, et de tous les prix en générale, depuis l’an 1200 jusqu’en 1800 (7 vols., Paris,
1894–1926).
Figure 1.21 shows the fall of interest rates in the fifteenth century. Levels differed widely:
public securities such as Venetian prèstiti, French rentes and Dutch census loans combined
higher security with lower rates. Commercial loans carried higher rates, but trends were much
the same. The source is Sidney Homer, A History of Interest Rates (2d ed., New Brunswick,
1977), 104–43.
After 1440, conditions began at last to improve in France. During the reigns of Charles
VII “the Well Served” and Louis XI “the Bourgeois,” order was restored, the English were
defeated and anarchy was suppressed. From 1437 to the end of the fifteenth century, prices
stabilized throughout France. Annual price fluctuations diminished, and the cost of grain
remained roughly on the same level for nearly half a century.15
As France lagged behind Italy, so England lagged behind France. That unhappy island
became a byword for political strife in the fifteenth century. A cruel and sordid conflict,
inappropriately named the Wars of the Roses, persisted into the late fifteenth century. So also
did economic instability. But even in England, the amplitude of price fluctuations steadily
diminished after 1440 and real wages improved.16
While real wages increased, returns to capital diminished. Rates of interest fell by 50
percent in France and the Low Countries in the century from 1370 to 1470. Italian rates also
came down, though not so much as in northern Europe. Rents also came down during the same
period, from 1370 to 1460. The same combination of rising wages, falling rents and falling
interest rates also appeared in every period of price equilibrium from the fifteenth to the
nineteenth centuries.
Figure 1.22 finds that when wages rose and rents fell during the fifteenth century, the peasantry
of Europe enlarged their holdings. These English villages are cases in point. In Holywell,
landholders included both customary and leasehold tenants; in Stoughton, they were
freeholders as well as leaseholders and customary tenants. The number of holders fell: in
Stoughton from 62 to 24, and in Holywell from 59 to 49. Sources include Edwin B. Dewindt,
Land and People in Holywell-cum-Needingworth: Structures of Tenure and Patterns of
Social Organization in an East Midlands Village, 1252–1457 (Toronto, 1972), 114; and
Christopher Dyer, Standards of Living in the Later Middle Ages (Cambridge, 1989), 141.
This was a difficult time for people who lived on rents and interest. But for most ordinary
folk who earned their bread by daily labor, life was better. Real wages increased. Rents fell.
Returns to labor outpaced rewards to land and capital. New trends slowly began to emerge in
the distribution of wealth. In England, many studies have found that peasants and small
proprietors enlarged their holdings in the fifteenth century.
At the same time that these patterns of equilibrium began to appear in the European
economy, new political trends emerged as well. The second half of the fifteenth century
became an age of strong and successful state-building. This was the era of Poland’s great king
Casimir IV, who united his grand duchy and drove out foreign invaders. In Russia it was the
time of Ivan the Great (1462), the first truly national ruler. It was also the era of Hungary’s
greatest king Mathias Corvinus (1458); of France’s Louis XI (1461), who transformed a
medieval kingdom into a great national monarchy; and of England’s Henry VII (1485), who
founded the Tudor dynasty.
These patterns of demographic equilibrium, economic recovery and political stability
developed in every part of Europe, but not all at the same time. They first appeared in the
territories that bordered the Mediterranean Sea. The early fifteenth century might be
remembered as the Mediterranean moment in modern history. It was an era of prosperity and
proud achievement from the straits of Gibraltar to the Golden Horn.17
In Spain, a new nation was born. Nobody could have predicted it. The future of Iberia
seemed very bleak as late as the year 1410, when the death of Aragon’s King Martin I was
followed by the collapse of Spain’s strongest dynasty. But in 1412 the throne of Aragon passed
to a cadet branch of the family that ruled Castile, and the two strongest kingdoms in Spain were
governed by members of the same clan. Contacts between these kingdoms steadily increased.
In 1469, the foundation of a new national state was created by a marriage of two Spanish
stepcousins, Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castile. A single national religion was
forcibly imposed by the Spanish Inquisition (founded in 1478), and the Spanish church was
protected from interference by a papal concordat in 1482. A system of national law was
established in the Libro de Montalvo (1485). The Moors were expelled from Spain in the
great reconquista which ended triumphantly with the liberation of Granada in 1492, the same
year when Columbus sailed for America.
These national events were closely linked to economic trends. The Spanish economy
flourished during the fifteenth century. Its increasing stability supported the new political
trends and was in turn reinforced by them. The result was the creation of the strongest nation-
state in the Western world—one that was destined to dominate Europe and America through the
sixteenth century.
At the opposite end of the Mediterranean, another empire was created in a different way.
The greatness of the Ottoman Empire rose not from the imposition of cultural unity on a single
nation, but from the reconciliation of cultural diversity within an imperial frame. In company
with their Christian neighbors, the Ottoman Turks had suffered many vicissitudes during the
fourteenth century. After 1413 a new trend appeared. Turkish armies captured Byzantium,
ravaged the Balkans, and conquered the Crimea. They battered Greek cities into submission
with marble cannonballs made from ancient monuments. The Ottoman empire was formed by
conquest during the three reigns of Mehmed I (1413–21), Murad II (1421–51) and especially
Mehmed II the Conqueror (1451–81).
The new Ottoman Empire was a mixture of light and shadow. It was created by slaughter
and maintained by terror. Sultan Mehmed II alone was thought to have been responsible for the
murder of more than 800,000 people. But brutal as the Turks may have been, they were
humanitarians by contrast with some of the despots whom they destroyed. One of their enemies
was the sadistic Vlad Dracul of Wallachia—the original Dracula who ordered mass murders
merely for amusement, and once impaled and crucified 20,000 captives in a single orgy of
violence. The Turks drove Dracula from power.
Once created by violent acts, the Ottoman Empire was tolerant of ethnic and religious
minorities—more so than Christian states. In its prime, the Ottoman state was remarkable for
administrative enlightenment, rational economic policies and ethnic pluralism. Throughout the
eastern Mediterranean it forcibly imposed a pax ottomanica that lasted many centuries.18
At the same time, the most remarkable achievements occurred in the center of the
Mediterranean basin, mainly among the Italian cities of Florence, Siena, Genoa, Modena,
Lucca, Milan, Padua and Venice. Here there was no single nation-state or despotic dominion,
but something very different in structure and spirit. The sovereign cities of northern Italy, in
rivalry with one another, invented a new institution which they named lo stato. We know it as
the modern secular state. They also created the idea of a modern state system in which a
political equilibrium was maintained by a balance of power, by spheres of influence, by the
exercise of diplomacy and by the sway of international law.
Some of these Italian city states also developed complex internal systems of republican
liberty and self-government. Political stability was achieved in the stronger cities, and linked
to a material equilibrium that prevailed throughout northern Italy in the fifteenth century.
A leading example was the history of Venice in the quattrocento. From 1405 to 1484, this
maritime republic annexed much of northern Italy: Padua, Vicenza, Verona, Treviso, Bergamo,
and Brescia. Even to this day in many small Italian villages throughout these regions, the lion
columns that symbolized Venetian sovereignty still stand in the town squares.19
Venetian ships controlled the inland waterways of Italy, as far as the Lago di Garda.
Venetian settlers occupied many Mediterranean islands that had belonged to the Byzantine
Greeks and the Crusader States. They added Corfu in 1386, Saloniki in 1423, and Cyprus in
1489 to their medieval possessions of Crete in the Mediterranean and Negroponte in the
Aegean Sea.
These acquisitions made Venice into a great seaborne empire which dominated trade
between West and East. Within the city of Venice itself, the arsenale became the largest
industrial complex in Europe and the basis of the city’s naval power. Here the Venetians
developed assembly lines and standardized parts, from which an entire galley could be
manufactured in a single day. So secret was the arsenale that anyone who entered without
permission could be blinded or put to death. Its great walls, bearing the date 1460, still stand
today.
After 1450, the Turks began to make inroads on the eastern fringes of Venetian empire, but
the economy of Venice remained prosperous throughout the fifteenth century and prices were
highly stable. Historian Frederic Lane finds an indicator of this new stability in the price of
pepper, which had long been an exceptionally volatile commodity in medieval markets. After
1415, the price of pepper stabilized and fluctuated remarkably little until 1499—the result of
Venetian commercial hegemony and of more fixed and regular trading conditions between East
and West.20
By the late fifteenth century, the Venetians were extracting from their territories a public
revenue of a million gold ducats a year, and much private wealth as well. The immense
prosperity of Venice appeared in its 200 opulent churches, in its Ducal palace that was rebuilt
on a magnificent scale in the fifteenth century, and in the private palazzi that still line the Grand
Canal. Venice became the golden city of the west. Its purse-proud merchants looked with envy
upon the palazzo ca d’oro, a palace covered entirely with gold. They prayed in the Cathedral
of San Marco before the pala d’oro, a screen of gold. They dreamed of gold, lived for gold,
and at St. Mark’s they even appeared to worship gold.
Very different in spirit was the city of Florence, which also became a great center of
commerce, industry and finance during this period. The Medici Bank, with branches in London,
Geneva, Bruges and Avignon, became highly profitable. The city’s silk and woolen industry
also flourished in the fifteenth century. Prosperity came to great families such as the Medici
themselves, and also to the popolo minuto of most social ranks and occupations.21
Prices in Florence remained stable through much of the fifteenth century, and wages were
relatively high. Historian Richard Goldthwaite observes that “the stability of wages was the
result of a general equilibrium” in this period. Prices also fluctuated within a fixed range from
1380 to 1470. Politics and social relations were comparatively orderly. In those years,
Florence experienced nothing like the great revolt of the Ciompi in 1378.22
After many centuries of strife, the political and social institutions of Florence became
more stable in the fifteenth century. The central figure was Cosimo de Medici. Without holding
high office himself, Cosimo dominated his city from 1434 until his death in 1464. He gave
Florence an enlightened and humane government, a more progressive system of taxation, a long
period of prosperity at home, and a successful policy of peace abroad, which was maintained
by complex diplomatic alliances. He also began a dynasty that continued under the leadership
of his son Piero and his grandson Lorenzo de Medici.
The strength and confidence of Florence during the fifteenth century was captured by its
culture. The soaring spirit of the quattrocento simultaneously appeared in the exquisite beauty
of Donatello’s sculpture, in the symmetry and grace of Brunelleschi’s great Duomo (1420–
24)above the cathedral, in the austere grandeur of the Medici Palace, in the quiet serenity of
San Marco’s convent cells, and especially in the beautiful frescos that were painted there by
Fra Angelico (1439–45). The striking contrast between the celebrations of St. Mark in
Florence and Venice could scarcely have been more complete. In very different ways, both
cities captured the general mood of confidence and certainty that flourished in the north of Italy
during the fifteenth century.
Throughout that region, a remarkable transformation occurred in the life of the mind
during the quattrocento. “Ever since the humanists’ own days,” writes historian Hans Baron,
“the transition from the fourteenth to the fifteenth century has been recognized as a time of big
and decisive changes.” During the early decades of the fifteenth century, Florentine humanists
such as Leonardo Bruni, Coluccio Salutati and Poggio Bracciolini produced a literature which
celebrated republican virtue, the rule of law, and the power of reason.
This intellectual movement culminated in the rhetorical extravagance of Pico della
Mirandola’s Oration on the Dignity of Man (1486), which argued that the greatness of man
consisted in his freedom from material constraints. In Pico’s oration, the following words are
addressed by God to Adam:
You may have and possess whatever abode, form and functions that you might desire. The
nature of all other beings is limited and constrained within the bounds of law prescribed
by us. But you, constrained by no limits, in accordance with your own free will, in whose
hand we have placed you, shall ordain for yourself the limits of your nature.23
Pico’s idea of human life without external limit was one aspect of the Renaissance. Others
included a new spirit of civic humanism, a new idea of republican virtue, a new classicism, a
new conception of Platonic idealism, and most of all a new dream of symmetry and order,
which Hans Baron has described as the “geometric spirit.”
The physical expression of this new spirit was the architecture of the Renaissance palaces
that multiplied in Florence—the Medici palace north of the Duomo; the Pitti palace south of the
river Arno, and the vast Strozzi palace to the west. These buildings, with their massive walls,
rusticated masonry, heavy cornices, exposed windows, and careful symmetries all
communicated a confident sense of order, strength and equilibrium.
Whether one thinks of the neoclassical proportions of Renaissance architecture, or the
rules of perspective in Renaissance painting, or the idea of balance in Renaissance statecraft,
or the Platonic system-building of Renaissance philosophy, these expressions shared an
assumption that the world was a place of harmony, symmetry, proportion and balance. They
expressed a mood of cosmic optimism that arose during an era of comparative stability in the
material culture of the West—an era that might well be remembered as the equilibrium of the
Renaissance.24
THE SECOND WAVE
The Price Revolution of the Sixteenth Century
I can get no remedy against this consumption of the purse; borrowing only lingers and
lingers it out, but the disease is incurable.
—Shakespeare’s Sir John Falstaff
Henry IV, Part 2, 1.2.216 (1597)
FLORENCE, June 24, 1491, the festival of San Giovanni. On this happy summer day, the
citizens of a great and prosperous city honored their patron saint, John the Baptist. Every year
the Florentines spent months in preparation for an event which they believed to be
“unparalleled in the world.”
The festival of St. John was a joyous holiday for people of every rank. Servants received
new livery, and a day of freedom. Masters and mistresses appeared in extravagant new
costumes and jewels. The magnati of the city, who in years past had met in mortal combat at
the city’s piazza, now competed for honor in contests of material display. The morning was
marked by tournaments, by fights between wild animals, and by demonstrations of martial arts
called armeggerie. Great crowds gathered to watch the palio, a wild and dangerous horse race
through the streets of the city. There was a lively parade of the gonfalonieri, marching proudly
with their billowing flags. The evening of the festival was a traditional time for weddings,
which had been postponed for weeks to honor the occasion. The grand climax was a solemn
religious procession of colorful floats called trionfi, which celebrated scenes from the life of
Christ and St. John.
Those things had been done for as many years as anyone could remember. But this year a
change was made. In place of the religious floats, the first citizen of Florence Lorenzo de’
Medici ordered the construction of fifteen trionfi on a classical rather than a Christian theme.
The new floats celebrated the triumph of Roman consul Lucius Aemilius Paulus Macedonicus,
whose victories had brought so much treasure to Rome that its citizens were freed from some
of their taxes for forty years.1
These new Florentine trionfi were drawn through the streets by 100 oxen, and escorted by
five squadrons of war horses from the Laurentian stables. An historian at the time observed
that this display “was considered the worthiest thing ever done on the day of San Giovanni.” A
parallel was pointedly drawn between the largesse of Paulus Macedonicus and the generosity
of Lorenzo de’ Medici, whose family had spent more than a million florins in acts of
philanthropy. In the process, an old religious procession was turned into a secular event that
celebrated the prosperity of the city, the stability of its institutions, the generosity of the Medici
family, and the glory of their young leader who was called Lorenzo il Magnifico.2
In 1491, the city of Florence had much to celebrate. “The city enjoyed perfect peace,” its
historian Guicciardini wrote, “the citizens in power were united and close, and their regime
was so powerful that no one dared oppose it. Every day, the people were treated to shows,
feasts, and novelties; provisions abounded in the city, and all the trades prospered. Genius and
ability flourished, for all men of arts, letters, and ability were welcomed and honored. At
home, the city enjoyed complete order and quiet; and abroad, the highest glory and
reputation.”3
The city was at the very pinnacle of its power. It had enlarged its domain in Tuscany, and
had so strengthened its alliances that it appeared to be “the fulcrum of all Italy.“4 Money
flowed into its coffers at such a rate that only three days before the Feast of St. John, the
commune announced that citizens would be allowed to pay their public obligations at only a
fraction of the usual rate. A month before the festival, the mint-masters issued a new Florentine
coin that “was thought [to] work miracles with the economy.” Throughout the city, the great
Renaissance palaces and especially Brunelleschi’s majestic duomo above the cathedral
symbolized an era of prosperity and stability.5
So it seemed in 1491, when the people of Florence celebrated the day of their patron
saint. But beneath the surface, things were not as they appeared. Once again, at the very
moment when it was least expected, a deep change was silently stirring in Florence itself and
throughout the Western world. After nearly a century of equilibrium, new trends were
beginning to develop in Italy and other parts of Europe.
An early sign was the movement of prices. During the last quarter of the fifteenth century,
the cost of living had begun to rise in Italy and Germany. The magnitude of its increase was not
very great, but in retrospect we are able to recognize the silent beginning of a new change-
regime that was destined to continue for many generations.
The people of Tuscany sensed the new trend long before they saw it clearly. Within nine
months of the Feast of St. John, the cultural mood began to change in Florence. It started with
an omen of a sort that Florentines took very seriously. On the fifth of April, in the year 1492,
the sky suddenly turned black above the city. A brilliant bolt of lightning streaked down from
the heavens and struck Brunelleschi’s soaring duomo with a mighty crash.6
As if on cue, a sinister friar named Girolamo Savonarola emerged from his cell at the
convent of San Marco and delivered a dark prophecy to the people of Florence. “Tell Lorenzo
to do penance for his sins,” Savonarola warned, “for God will punish him.” Before a vast
crowd, the friar prophesied the death of il Magnifico himself and an ordeal of suffering for his
city.7
Within months, both prophecies came true. In 1492, the magnificent young Lorenzo died
suddenly of a strange illness. The coup de grace may have been administered by his own
physicians, who ordered this great sybarite to drink a potion of powdered pearls as a last
desperate remedy for his mysterious affliction. He was barely 43 years old.
After Lorenzo’s death, the peace and prosperity of Florence collapsed. His carefully
crafted foreign policy was destroyed by his reckless son and heir, Piero di Lorenzo de’
Medici. As the Italian states resumed their ancient quarrels a French army seized the moment,
crossed the Alps and occupied Florence. An angry mob sacked the Medici palace, and Piero di
Lorenzo was banished from the city. After a brief revival of republican liberty, Florence
passed under the sway of Friar Savonarola, who ruled the city from 1494 to 1498.
Savonarola tirelessly lectured the people on their sins, and blamed their troubles on
spiritual corruption and love of luxury. He persuaded them to do penance for their prosperity.
In an orgy of remorse they built a huge bonfire of their beloved Renaissance paintings, books,
furniture and musical instruments in the Piazza de Signori. Just before the pile was set alight,
an incredulous Venetian merchant offered to remove the offending vanities for 20,000 gold
ducats. His reward was to have his own portrait instantly painted, and thrown into the flames.8
The burning of the vanities in Florence on February 7, 1497, became one of the best
remembered scenes of the Italian Renaissance. Not so well known, even to professional
historians, was its close conjunction with economic events. Prices surged very high in the
1490s, and the economy began to fail. On February 19, 1497, only twelve days after the
burning of the vanities, there was a riot in the old Piazzo del Grano, the site of the city’s public
granary. The starving poor, driven to desperation by rising food prices, gathered before the
granary in such numbers that some were crushed and others were suffocated. The surging
crowd broke down the doors and attacked the granary, crying “Palle, palle,” the nickname of
the Medici who had so often helped them in the past.9
Hungry peasants crowded into the city from the hills of Tuscany. The streets and hospitals
were filled with dying people. Famine was followed by epidemic disease, and Florence found
itself once again in the grip of the plague. Savonarola wrote his brother, “Every day we see
nothing in Florence but crosses and corpses.” The city itself was described as “a living
corpse.” What remained of it was consumed by foreign war and domestic disorder until self-
government was destroyed.10
In 1498, the people of Florence began to blame Savonarola himself for their misfortunes,
and turned savagely against their spiritual leader. On the eve of Ascension Day they burned
him at the stake while the mob jeered, “Prophet, now is the time for a miracle.”11
These events were a pivot-point in Italian history. After the death of Savonarola, Italy
became a bloody cockpit for the great powers. Foreign armies laid waste to Tuscany. Venice
was despoiled of her empire by the French in the west and by the Turks to the east. Rome itself
was brutally sacked in 1527. In 1530 the proud republic of Florence became a dark and
wretched despotism, which called itself the Grand Duchy of Tuscany. These happenings ended
the equilibrium of the Renaissance. They marked the beginning of a new material process
which economic historians call the price-revolution of the sixteenth century.12
Figure 2.01 shows the main lines of this price revolution from its beginning in the late fifteenth
century to its climax in the mid-seventeenth century. Annual indices of consumable prices in
England, and commodity prices in Germany and Spain, are converted to a common base (1521-
30=100). The sources are Henry Phelps-Brown and Sheila Hopkins, A Perspective of Wages
and Prices (London, 1981), 28–31, 94–98; Moritz J. Elsas, Umriss eine Geschichte der
Preise und Lôhne in Deutschland (2 vols., Leiden, 1936–40); Earl J. Hamilton, Money,
Prices, and Wages in Valencia, Aragon, and Navarre, 1351–1500 (Cambridge, 1936); idem,
American Treasure and the Price Revolution in Spain, 1501–1650 (Cambridge, 1934), 191,
200, 216.
The Price Revolution Begins, circa 1470–80
The first signs appeared in the north of Italy and southern Germany. The price of grain in
Florence began to rise about the year 1472. In the south German cities of Wurzburg, Munich
and Augsburg, the new trend started about the same time. Throughout France and England, the
inflection-point came a little later, approximately 1480. In Spain and Portugal, the price-
revolution did not appear until after 1490. Parts of eastern Europe were not affected until
1500.13
Once begun, the new trend continued for a very long time. Historians call it the price-
revolution of the sixteenth century—a name that is not precisely accurate. This very long wave
began as early as 1470, and continued as late as 1650. Altogether, it had a run of 180 years—
the longest price-revolution in modern history.14
Through that long period, the annual rate of inflation was very moderate by the measure of
our own time. From 1490 to 1650, price increases averaged only about 1 percent each year.
The speed of their advance seems very slow by modern standards, but it was twice as fast as
the medieval wave and it was compounded for a very long time. An historian observes that
“the most remarkable feature of the Price Revolution was not the pace at which prices rose, but
the fact that a rising trend was sustained for so long.”15
The underlying rate of change was remarkable for its stability. A striking pattern appears
in that respect. When the price of grain in the Italian city of Modena is plotted on a semilog
scale (which represents a constant rate of change as astraight line), the central trend was
perfectly straight from the late fifteenth century to the seventeenth.
There was much movement around that central trend. From year to year, the price of grain
in Modena fluctuated sharply, mainly because of changes in the size of harvests. But these
gyrations also showed stability in their rhythm and scale. Trendlines drawn through the peaks
and valleys of annual price-fluctuations make two more straight lines. Here was another set of
constants in the paramenters of change, and a classic example of a change-regime that
combined dynamism with stability in high degree.
The experience of Modena was not representative of the price-revolution as a whole.
Patterns varied in detail from one city to another. But in general, the price-revolution of the
sixteenth century showed a similar tendency in much of the Western world.16
What set this change-regime in motion? There are many answers in the literature:
monetarist, Malthusian, Marxist, and more. As the evidence continues to grow, many historians
(including this one) have come to believe that prime mover of the price-revolution was a
revival of population growth, which placed heavy pressure on material resources.
Figure 2.02 examines components of change in this price revolution: increasing magnitudes,
expanding amplitudes, and stability in the underlying rate of change. The source is Gian Luigi
Basini’s elegant monograph Sui mercato di Modena tra cinque e seicento: Prèzzi e salari
(Milan, 1974). Trend lines are fitted with an Excel 5.0 program.
This demographic tendency began during the late fifteenth century, when parallel
tendencies appeared in England, Italy, Spain, Germany, France, the Low Countries,
Switzerland, Scandinavia and eastern Europe. Most nations experienced the same sequence of
change: catastrophe in the mid-fourteenth century, continuing decline of population to the end of
the fourteenth century; stagnation and slow growth in the early and mid-fifteenth century;
acceleration after 1460 or 1470.
England was a case in point. That country had approximately two million inhabitants in
1430, and not many more in 1470. Thereafter, the population of England began to grow more
rapidly. It reached 2.8 millions by 1541, and more than four millions by the end of the sixteenth
century. Historian Michael Postan found evidence that this demographic trend began circa
1470, and continued through the sixteenth century.17
Figure 2.03 compares quinquennial estimates of English population with a 25-year moving
average of the Phelps-Brown Index of English consumable prices. The source is E. A. Wrigley
and R. S. Schofield, The Population History of England, 1541–1871; A Reconstruction
(Cambridge, 1981), 403.
The cause of population growth after about 1460 is not difficult to discover. The
prolonged period of economic equilibrium in the fifteenth century had been a time of increasing
real wages, and a revolutionary rise in expectations. Many years after the catastrophe of the
fourteenth century, the world at last seemed to be a better place in which to raise a family. This
change of attitude was broadly cultural rather than narrowly material. In the period from 1460
to 1510, millions of men and women throughout Europe freely decided for their own purposes
to marry earlier and have more children. The general trend emerged from a web of individual
choices.18
The consequences were much the same as in the thirteenth century. German writer
Sebastian Franck remarked in his Deutschen Chronik (1538) that “there are so many people
everywhere, no one can move.” In Italy, England, and France there were complaints of
overcrowding in cities and the countryside. Similar observations were repeated throughout
Europe.19
The effect of population growth was to undercut the cultural expectations that set it in
motion. But this was not precisely a Malthusian process. Neither Malthus nor Marx can explain
what happened in the sixteenth century. Long before population outstripped the means of its
subsistence in a Malthusian manner, complex imbalances of other kinds began to develop.
As the demand for food increased, people began to bring marginal lands into cultivation,
with large labor and small return. French historian Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie described that
process at work in Languedoc. That region had a thin and stony scrubland called the garrigue
which had been abandoned since the Black Death. Now it began to be plowed and planted
once again. This process began in the mid-sixteenth century. “By 1576,” Le Roy Ladurie
writes, “the rape of the garrigue was well underway. . . . Demographic pressure, the rise in
demand, and the increase in prices had made their combined effect felt. One had to resign
oneself to the working of poor, rocky soils.”20
Many years before Malthusian “positive checks” came into operation, these more subtle
mechanisms came into play. The growth of population caused the price of food to rise, faster
and farther than that of other commodities. Industrial products and wages lagged behind. In
Spain, economic historian Earl Hamilton found that “throughout the first three-quarters of the
sixteenth century, agricultural prices rose faster than non-agricultural.” Similar patterns
appeared in England, France, Germany. This pattern of price-relatives was much the same as
in the long wave of the thirteenth century.21
Once food prices began to rise, the cost of energy also started to climb at a rapid rate. In
the early years of the price-revolution, energy prices increased slowly, then began to
accelerate. In an environment that was rapidly losing its forest cover, the rising price of
firewood and charcoal soon outstripped even the cost of food. After 1530 or thereabouts, the
price of wood in all its forms (including charcoal) increased more rapidly than that of grain or
meat or any other commodity.22 Wood prices rose sharply in England, France, Germany and
Poland. Energy prices were among the most volatile in the long inflation of the sixteenth
century.23
The movement of price-relatives revealed differences not merely of magnitude but also of
timing. The secular rise in farm prices began before the increase in the cost of manufactured
goods. In England, the price of grain began to rise as early as 1470–89, forty years before most
industrial products, which started to climb circa 1510–39. In Poland, the price of Torún rye
was rising from about 1495, and Cracow oats from 1505; Polish manufactures began to go up
later.24
Figure 2.04 shows that price relatives of food and raw materials rose most rapidly. Industrial
prices and farm wages lagged far behind. This pattern appeared in every price revolution.
Sources include D. C. Coleman, The Economy of England, 1450–1750 (Oxford, 1977), 23;
and P. Bowden, “Statistical Appendix,” in Joan Thirsk, ed., The Agrarian History of England
and Wales (Cambridge, 1967) IV, appendix.
The price of manufactures also rose at a slower pace than those of food and fuel.
Throughout Europe, the slowest rates of increase were for industrial goods which could be
produced most easily in larger quantity. In England, the price of food and fuel rose by a factor
of six or eight, while industrial prices merely trebled. That pattern of price relatives has
appeared in every great wave.
The timing and magnitude of these changes in price-relatives is an important clue to the
cause of the price-revolution. The earliest and most rapid increases appeared in the cost of
life’s necessities such as food and fuel and shelter, which were most in demand when
population was accelerating, and least elastic in supply. Here was strong evidence of a
demand-driven demographic determinant at work. A monetary cause alone should have been
more even-handed in its effect.25
Farmers kept grain from the market in fear of famine in their own households. Millers
hoarded flour in hope of profits to come. Communities and entire states blocked the movement
of grain beyond their boundaries. Merchants cornered local markets. Bakers added sawdust
(and worse things) to their bread, and defied the market-assizes by selling smaller loaves for
larger prices. These responses caused prices to climb higher, and also increased their
volatility.
Social Imbalances
Some people, more than others, were able to respond to rising prices. As a consequence,
social imbalances began to develop. At the beginning of the price-revolution, wages had risen
more or less together with the cost of food and shelter. While they did so, there was a heady
sense of high prosperity. In later stages of the price-revolution that pattern changed. Money-
wages lagged behind the rising cost of living, and real wages fell sharply. By 1570 real wages
were less than half of what they had been before the price-revolution began.27
This decline of real wages, once begun, continued into the early seventeenth century. Most
vulnerable were workers who had few skills and no capital of their own. “The real victims of
economic forces in this age,” writes Peter Ramsay, “were the evicted agrarian smallholder and
the landless laborer of both town and country.”28
By comparison, landlords and capitalists tended to do better. Returns to capital kept pace
with commodity prices and even leaped ahead in some decades of the sixteenth century.
Overall, rates of interest rose during the sixteenth century despite a proliferation of usury laws
and condemnations by Catholic and Protestant moralists. The Hapsburgs were forced to pay
their bankers annual interest as high as 52 percent. These were exceptionally high rates, but in
the developing money markets of early modern Europe, rates of interest rose during the
sixteenth century.29
Returns to landowners also increased during the price-revolution. A landlord who was
secure in the possession of his property held many private remedies for rising prices firmly in
his own hands. Manorial customs provided landlords with a broad range of opportunities for
increasing their own income in rents, fees, fines, forfeitures and obligatory services. There
was more than one way for a feudal lord to increase his income from tenants. Most of all, he
could raise the rent. During part of the sixteenth century, rents and land prices rose even more
rapidly than food and fuel. One study finds that English rents increased ninefold from 1510 to
1640, while grain went up by a factor of four and wages barely doubled. In Belgium, land
prices increased elevenfold; in Holstein, they multiplied by a factor of fourteen during the
same period.30
Contemporary observers counted the movement of rent itself as a leading cause of rising
prices. A husbandman in Hales’s Discourse of the Common Weal was made to say to
landowners, “I think it is long of you gentlemen that this dearth is, by reason you enhance your
lands to such a height, as men that live thereon must need sell dear again, or else they were not
able to make the rent.”31
Increases in rent caused much rural unrest. In England, a leading demand in Kett’s
Rebellion (1549) was that copyhold rents should be rolled back to rates that had prevailed 65
years earlier, during the first year of Henry VII (1485). Similar complaints were heard
throughout western Europe.32
Figure 2.06 shows that real wages (deflated by consumable prices) fell throughout Europe
from the late fifteenth century to the mid-seventeenth century. The data are eleven-year moving
averages for Southern England and Alsace, and twenty-five-year fixed averages for France.
The source is Phelps-Brown and Hopkins, A Perspective of Wages and Prices, 62.
Figure 2.07 compares rents per acre on landed estates with an index of consumable prices in
England. The source is Eric Kerridge, “The Movement of Rent, 1540–1640,” Economic
History Review 2d ser., 6 (1953–54) 16–34.
As always, some of the worst exploitation occurred in the east, where serfdom and forced
labor had persisted. “In Poland,” writes historian Stanislas Hoszowski, “landowners
benefitted most, while the disadvantages fell on the peasants. . . . The rise in cereal and food
prices encouraged landowners to change feudal cash payments into labor rents. They created
new demesnes, forcing their peasants to work on them unpaid. Minimum production costs and
the large profits to be derived from the system encouraged the nobility to extend the estates at
the expense of peasant farms and to exploit peasants on an ever increasing scale.” Hoszowski
concludes that the price-revolution actually strengthened the feudal system in eastern Europe.
Everywhere, it made the dominant elites richer and stronger than they had been before.33
The growing gap between returns to labor and rewards to capital was one of the most
important social consequences of inflation in the sixteenth century. These trends caused
inequality to grow, in a society that was grossly unequal before they began.
Great wealth and grievous poverty increased in the mid-sixteenth century. In England, the
numbers of beggars and vagabonds and homeless people were observed to rise rapidly during
the price-revolution. The growth of inequality created a set of social imbalances that grew
increasingly dangerous throughout the western world.34
Figure 2.08 finds evidence in fragmentary data that interest rates nearly doubled in the mid-
sixteenth century, outpacing the rise of prices in the same period. The source is Homer, A
History of Interest Rates, 121,137,140.
Monetary Imbalances
Another imbalance developed in the monetary system. Once again, as in the medieval price-
revolution, individuals and institutions responded to inflation by taking actions which
expanded the supply of money. In western Europe, historian Georg Wiebe estimated that the
supply of silver increased from approximately 10,000 tons in 1550, to more than 23,000 tons
by 1600, and above 34,000 tons in 1660. Subsequent research challenged these numbers in
detail, but confirmed the general trend.35
The largest part of this increase was American silver and gold, which flowed abundantly
into Europe after 1500. The cause of the price-revolution of the sixteenth century has often
been attributed to this single factor: large imports of American metal, which increased the
quantity of money in circulation, and reduced its purchasing power by expanding its supply.
In light of much historical research, this monetarist explanation must be revised, without
being rejected. American treasure could not have been the first cause of a price-revolution.
Prices began to go up as early as 1480, many years before American silver and gold arrived in
Europe. In England and Germany, prices nearly doubled during the half century before
American silver could have had a significant effect on their economies.36
Further, major fluctuations in the flow of treasure from America did not correlate with
variations in price-movements, in time or space. In Spain, where the impact of American
treasure was comparatively large, the pace of inflation actually lagged behind other parts of
Europe. Moreover, the largest proportionate increases in Spanish prices occurred during the
first half of the sixteenth century—not the second half, when American treasure had its greatest
impact.37
Similar disparities also appeared in northwestern Europe, where one of the largest
inflationary surges occurred during the period from 1552 to 1560, when imports of gold and
silver were comparatively small. From 1570 to 1590, on the other hand, silver imports from
America rose at a rapid rate while prices actually fell a little.38
Yet another difficulty for a monistic monetary model appears in recent collaborative
research by chemists and historians on the diffusion of American silver in Europe. The largest
trove of American treasure was found in the fabulous silver mountain at Potosí, which became
a monument to earthly abundance, cruelty, and greed. Spanish conquerors discovered the silver
of Potosí in 1545, and forced Indians to mine a vast quantity of precious metal, at terrible cost
in human suffering. Nearly half of all the silver produced in America from 1521 to 1610 came
from Potosí alone.
The silver of Potosí was highly distinctive in its chemical composition, which allows a
metallurgical test of its diffusion. The results are instructive for students of this event. Silver
from Potosí appeared in the coinage of Spain, Genoa, Milan, and Venice, but not until after the
mid-sixteenth century. It was found on the Atlantic coast of France, but not in large quantity
until the 1590s, more than a century after the price-revolution began. None was discovered in
Belgium, England, the Netherlands or most other parts of France. The inventors of this test
concluded, perhaps prematurely, that South American silver had little impact on the coinage of
northern Europe in the sixteenth century. It would be more accurate to say that its impact was
not felt until the later stages of the price-revolution.39
Figure 2.09 compares Spanish prices with the arrival of precious metals from the New World.
The evidence shows that American treasure contributed in a major way to the momentum of the
price revolution, but did not set it in motion, or sustain it to the end. The data are from
Hamilton, American Treasure and the Price Revolution in Spain, 35, 228.
In short, the price-revolution came first; American treasure followed later. The test of
timing is decisive here. One of the few clear and simple laws of historical causality is that the
effect cannot precede the cause. The old idea that American treasure was the first cause of the
price-revolution in Europe during the sixteenth century will not do.
Nevertheless, the monetary model retains its relevance in other forms. It does so in ways
that are more complex and also more interesting than a simple monetarist idea. The gold and
silver of America did not set the price-revolution in motion, but powerfully reinforced its
momentum. The effect of vast new supplies of gold and silver was to support an existing
economic trend and to intensify its effect.40
Further, one may observe in the timing of this complex relationship an historical pattern
that monetarism alone is powerless to explain. Monetary theory explains why an increase in
the supply of money drives up prices. It cannot explain why the money-supply increases in the
first place, except by introducing the monetarist’s favorite diabolus ex machina in the form of
corrupt and incompetent politicians who are believed to be too stupid or weak to understand
the monetarist’s favorite remedies.
To approach the price-revolution in broadly historical terms is to discover a more mature
explanation. In every price-revolution, one finds evidence of frantic efforts to expand the
supply of money, after people have discovered that prices are rising in a secular way. The
price-revolution of the sixteenth century caused the rulers of Spain (who were hard-pressed to
keep up with inflation) to redouble their efforts to extract gold and silver from their American
dominions. Two
Figure 2.10 compares prices and coinage in France. It finds more evidence that expansion of
the money supply contributed strongly to price-inflation in the middle and late years of the
sixteenth century, but was not as important in early stages of the price-revolution. Fluctuations
in coinage also caused movements around the central trend, but had less effect on the central
tendency. The source is Frank Spooner, The International Economy and Monetary
Movements in France, 1493–1725 (Cambridge, Mass., 1972), 273.
tendencies powerfully reinforced each other. Together they created a dynamic of high
importance in the history of that troubled age.
The same processes worked in other ways. Another monetary factor (small by the
measure of American treasure but still important) was the mining of precious metals within
Europe, which also expanded during the sixteenth century. The great inflation created a
voracious hunger for a larger circulating medium. Old mines were reopened at heavy expense.
Once again, most of this activity came after the price-revolution had begun.41
In Russia, the Tsars made major efforts to encourage production of gold and silver. In
1567, Ivan IV actively recruited mining experts abroad. Thirty years later, Tsar Fedor
Ivanovich asked his ambassador in Italy to pay any price for miners. There was an air of
desperation in these acts. Increased supplies of European and Russian silver also contributed
to rising prices.42
It is important to observe that the correlation between the rise of prices and the minting of
money in western Europe was itself variable through time— another vital clue. The
association was comparatively weak in the early sixteenth century. It became stronger in the
period from 1550 to 1610. This finding strongly suggests that monetarist factors operated as
historical variables. They were more powerful in the second stage of the price-revolution than
in the first.43
After the mid-sixteenth century, intelligent observers began to discover that a relationship
existed between prices and the size of the money supply. The quantity theory of money was
invented during the second stage of this price-revolution. In 1556, Spanish scholar Martin de
Azpilcueta proposed the thesis that “money is worth more when and where it is scarce than
when it is abundant.” Further, he perceived that “in Spain, in times when money was scarcer,
saleable goods and labor were given for very much less than after the discovery of the Indies,
which flooded the country with gold and silver.” Twelve years later, French writer Jean Bodin
developed the same idea. Other monetarist models were invented by the Polish scientist
Nicolaus Copernicus, by the Florentine Davanzatti, by many English observers, and by other
writers throughout Europe during the middle decades of the sixteenth century. These
discoveries were made at a particular moment in the price-revolution.44
At the same time that these monetarist theories appeared in the mid-sixteenth century,
other observers came to a different conclusion that the primary cause of rising prices was the
growth of population. An example was England’s Alderman Box, who wrote to Lord Burghley
in 1576, “Now the time is altered . . . for the people are increased and ground for plows doth
want, corn and all other victual is scant, [and] many strangers [are] suffered here, which make
corn and victual deare.” He recommended that “waste grounds” should be given to
husbandmen—a remedy that found little favor among the possessing classes.45
A few people argued a third proposition that the cause of rising prices was an increase in
both population and money. Thus George Hakewill wrote, “The plenty of coin and multitude of
men . . . either of which asunder, but much more both together, must needs be a means of raising
prices of all things.” This was the most accurate explanation, but also the most complex. It had
less appeal than simple monetary or demographic models.46
Fiscal Imbalances
The response of governments to rising prices created a third sort of imbalance, fiscal in its
nature. By the mid-sixteenth century, large deficits were growing in the public accounts of
European states. The problem was compounded by regressive taxation, and by the persistent
tendency of the rich to shift the weight of taxes to poor and middling people.
By and large, the heaviest tax burdens fell upon the peasantry. In many parts of Europe the
nobility were exempt from the most onerous forms of taxation. In Spain, for example, the
privileged class called hidalgos were released from some taxes, though they were still
compelled to pay a sales tax. During the sixteenth century, the hidalgos preserved and even
expanded their special privileges at a time when the poor were groaning under their heavy
burden and the government was unable to pay its bills.
As the price-revolution continued, the revenues of European states fell far behind
expenditures. In desperation, governments borrowed heavily. The Spanish government kept
going by mortgaging its annual treasure fleet before the ships arrived, to foreign bankers at
ruinous rates of interest. Spain also issued annuities called juros, pledging an income to
private lenders for many years into the future. By 1543, a large part of Spanish revenue went to
pay the interest on a public debt that was soaring out of control. The effect was to weaken the
spring of government itself.47
These many responses to rising prices—social, demographic, economic, monetary, fiscal
—interacted in combinations of increasing power. For example, the price-revolution caused
falling real wages and rising returns to land and capital, which caused the growth of inequality,
which increased the political power of the rich, which led to regressive taxation, which
reduced government revenues, which encouraged currency debasements, which drove prices
higher. This was merely one of the more simple linkages in a causal web of high complexity.
As the web thickened, the price-revolution came to be elaborately embedded in entire
economic systems, and social conflicts began to grow. The Protestant Reformation and
Catholic Counter-Reformation shattered the most important unifying institution in the Western
world—the Christian church. Religious conflicts of great violence broke out, and continued
through a period that corresponded almost exactly to the years of the price-revolution. These
two movements— Reformation and price-revolution—were connected. In Germany, many
historians have found evidence that the rapid spread of the Protestant Reformation and also the
Peasants’ War were closely linked to increasing economic stress, caused by population growth
and price inflation.48
Figure 2.11 shows that in the period from 1544 to 1627 a growing proportion of English
tenants became landless (or held less than two acres) in three villages of Cambridgeshire:
Chippenham on chalk soil in East Cambridgeshire, Orwell on clay soil in West
Cambridgeshire, and Willingham in the fens near the Isle of Ely. All percentages are computed
from Margaret Spufford’s tabulations of survey data except Chippenham in 1636, which is
estimated from a survey of landowning in that year and evidence of total population. The
source is Margaret Spufford, Contrasting Communities: English Villagers in the Sixteenth
and Seventeenth Centuries (Cambridge, 1974), 73, 100, 149.
These linkages appeared in Belgium and the Netherlands during the 1560s, when
Calvinism suddenly spread from one city to the next in the so-called Iconoclast disorders.
Mobs of newly converted Calvinists attacked Catholic churches, smashing the sacred artifacts
that were hated symbols of the old religion.49 Historians have concluded that the Iconoclast
movement was directly linked to economic instabilities, and particularly to a sudden surge in
grain prices in the Netherlands from 1564 to 1566.50 Similar connections between religious
conflicts and economic fluctuations were also observed in England, France, Switzerland and
Scandinavia from 1558 to 1640.51
The causal connection between economic and religious movements was highly complex.
In some instances, price disturbances operated as a direct determinant of religious events—as
with the Dutch and Belgian Iconoclasts. In others, religious disturbances led to price
fluctuations during the major wars of the Protestant Reformation. In general, it might be said
that both the Reformation and Counter Reformation on the one hand, and the price-revolution
on the other, were parallel expressions of deep imbalances in European society.
Monetary factors became yet another source of instability. European states and sovereigns
tinkered endlessly with their coinage during the sixteenth century, sometimes inflating the value
of their coins, sometimes deflating them again. In England, an inflationary “great debasement”
from 1541 to 1551 drove prices higher. This was followed by a “great recoinage” in 1561,
which had the opposite effect. By and large, debasements became more common than
recoinages. The monetary policies of the European monarchs added momentum to the price-
revolution, and increased its instability. A dangerous cyclical relationship developed. High
prices forced governments to debase their currency; debasement in turn drove prices higher.
The wheel kept spinning round and round.
Moralists preached against these practices. Merchants protested angrily. Even satirists
added their mite. When the weight of silver in English testons was reduced by a third, the coins
were ordered to be “blanched” or washed with a wafer-thin coat of silver so that the portrait
of Henry VIII would remain bright and shiny. As they passed from hand to hand, the copper
core quickly showed through, and gave the king a distinctly ruddy complexion. A poet wrote:
These testons look red, how like you the same?
’Tis a token of grace; they blush for shame.57
Figure 2.13 compares debasements of English money with the Phelps-Brown-Hopkins index of
consumable prices in southern England (1451-75=100). The evidence indicates that
debasements caused inflationary surges but did not drive the underlying trend. Sources include
G. D. Gould, The Great Debasement (Oxford, 1970); C. E. Challis, The Tudor Coinage
(Manchester, 1978); and Henry Phelps Brown and Sheila V. Hopkins, A Perspective of Wages
and Prices (New York, 1981).
A related source of instability arose from international flows of specie. Europe in the late
sixteenth century was awash with money, which sloshed back and forth from one sovereignty to
another. Many contemporaries attributed the movement of prices primarily to international
trade and the balance of payments. Sir Francis Drake’s raids had a similar effect by different
means. They removed from the Spanish economy between one and two million pounds (of
which £600,000 were silver and gold bullion) and brought it to England between 1577 and
1580.58
Economic imbalances engendered political instabilities. Spain in the reigns of Charles V
(1516–1556) and Philip II (1556–1598) was the strongest state in Europe. Like many other
great powers, even to our own time, it fell into the fatal habit of deficit spending, and was
finally reduced to a fiscal condition that historian J. H. Elliott describes as “chronic
bankruptcy.” At least six times between 1557 and 1647, the Spanish government went
bankrupt, and found itself unable to meet its obligations or to borrow further. These fiscal
crises occurred every twenty years with remarkable regularity—1557, 1575, 1596, 1607,
1627, 1647. Spanish historian Vicens Vives writes, “the vicious cycle was complete: the
larger the state’s debts became, the harder it was to meet them.”59 Other states were caught in
the same cycle. Deficit financing was not invented in the twentieth century. In England, France
and Germany, rulers became chronic debtors.60
These instabilities were deepened by the effect of war. The two steepest surges of
inflation in the 1540s and 1590s were periods of heavy military spending. Here was yet
another vicious circle between economic imbalances, political instability, and war.61
People ground and chopped many unsuitable things into bread such as mash, chaff, bark,
buds, nettles, hay, straw, peat moss, nutshells, peastalks, etc. This made people so weak
and their bodies so swollen that innumerable people died.
Many widows, too, were found dead on the ground with red hummock grass, seeds
which grew in the fields, and other kinds of grass in their mouths.
People were found dead in the houses, under barns, in the ovens of bath houses and
wherever they had been able to squeeze in, so that, God knows, there was enough to do
getting them to the graveyard, though the dogs ate many of the corpses.
Children starved to death at their mothers’ breast, for they had nothing to give them
suck.5
Similar scenes were described in England, Scotland, France, Germany, Scandinavia, Hungary,
Russia and Spain.
The great dearth fell cruelly upon the poor, while the rich remained secure in their plenty.
In London’s affluent central neighborhoods, the number of burials increased very little during
these years; but outlying parishes inhabited by the poor suffered severely. The effect of scarcity
was to deepen the material inequalities that were already very great in European culture, and
to contribute to growing social instability.6
Another consequence of scarcity was an increase in crime. The pattern was much the
same as in the fourteenth century. When the price of food surged, crime increased sharply.
When prices fell, criminal acts declined. This correlation was very strong in the later stages of
every price-revolution from the Middle Ages to our own time.
These troubles were compounded by the growth of disease. During the great dearth many
parts of Europe reported much trouble with the “bloody flux.” This was perhaps not dysentery
as many have surmised; similar symptoms are caused by malnutrition. Soon other epidemic
diseases spread swiftly through a weakened population. The plague returned to Europe,
ravaging its cities and many parts of the countryside. One of the worst outbreaks was the
Cantabrian Plague, which killed half a million people in Iberia from 1597 to 1602, then spread
to England and other parts of Europe.
Figure 2.15 compares annual indictments for crimes against property in the English county of
Essex, with an index of mean annual wheat prices in England (1470-79=100). Indictments are
missing for the years 1568, 1575, 1577, 1583, 1596, and 1598-99, and have been added by
linear interpolation. The source for indictments is J. S. Cockburn, “The Nature and Incidence
of Crime in England, 1559-1625,” in idem, ed., Crime in England, 1550–1800 (Princeton,
1977), 68. Wheat prices are from Joan Thirsk, ed., The Agrarian History of England and
Wales, IV, 1500–1640 (Cambridge, 1967), statistical appendix, 865.
As in the fourteenth century, plague did not strike a single blow. It returned again and
again, with shattering effect. The region of Angers was an example. In the diocese of Murienne,
it was introduced by soldiers returning from a military campaign (a common means of
infection). Repeated epidemics followed in 1583–84, 1598, 1626, 1631 and 1639. Of 62
parishes in the diocese, 56 were severely infected. Two parishes (Modane and Aiguebelle)
lost more than 40 percent of their inhabitants. In the diocese as a whole, the death rate rose to
80 per thousand—much below the toll of the Black Death in 1348, but twice the normal level.
This was merely one of many epidemic diseases that spread through Europe, which
suffered much from visitations of smallpox, diptheria, typhus and other nameless infections.
One historian writes that “no century since the fourteenth has a worse record for epidemic
disease.”7
At the same time that mortality increased, rates of fertility declined. From northern
Germany to southern Spain, the number of inhabitants fell sharply after a long period of
growth. In the cathedral of Toledo a clergyman named Sancho de Moncado studied his
baptismal registers and found that the number of births dropped from the mid-sixteenth century
to 1617 by 50 percent. Moncado observed that this decline happened not because of pestilence
or migration, but “because the people cannot support themselves,” as a consequence of scarcity
and the soaring cost of food.8
The combined effect of rising mortality and falling fertility caused a reversal of
demographic growth in the seventeenth century. This was the only period after the Black Death
when the population of Europe actually declined.
As if these sufferings were not enough, a major economic collapse occurred in the period
from 1610 to 1622. This was more than merely a cyclical downturn. It was a major break in
the secular trend. Historian Ruggiero Romano observed its effects almost everywhere in
Europe. In the Baltic, the number of ships passing through the Danish Sound reached its peak
near the year 1600, and then after a period of fluctuation declined steadily for more than fifty
years. In the Spanish port of Seville, a major entrepot for American trade, the monumental
research of Huguette and Pierre Chaunu yielded evidence that total tonnage entering and
leaving Seville harbor rose steadily through most of the sixteenth century to a peak in the year
1610; then it fell sharply, and kept on falling for many decades. In Venice, Ragusa, Leghorn and
Marseilles, customs duties and anchorage taxes peaked in the early seventeenth century, then
declined catastrophically after 1618. In Danzig, the grain trade collapsed after 1619. In
England, Italy and Spain, the sale of wool and textiles peaked in the decade 1610–20, then
entered a deep depression that continued for half a century. Even the prosperous Low
Countries—an exception to many seventeenth-century trends—were caught in this economic
collapse. Industrial production began to decline in Amsterdam and Rotterdam after about
1620.9
Figure 2.16 shows a decline in population during the general crisis of the seventeenth century,
the only period after the fourteenth century when the population of Europe declined. Sources
include Colin McEvedy and Richard Jones, Atlas of World Population History (New York,
1978); Massimo Livi-Bacci, A Concise History of World Population (Cambridge and Oxford,
1992); J. Nadal, La población Española (Barcelona, 1984).
Famine, pestilence, and economic depression were accompanied by war. During the
entire century from 1551 to 1650, peace prevailed throughout the continent only in a single
year (1610)—a record unmatched since the fourteenth century. These conflicts were
remarkable not only for their frequency but also their ferocity. By far the most destructive was
a cluster of religious and political conflicts that historians call the Thirty Years War (1618–
48). This great conflict was a catastrophe for central Europe. Historian Gunther Franz
estimates that the population of Germany declined by 40 percent from 1618 to 1648— a larger
proportion than were killed by the Black Death. Other scholars think that losses was not so
high, but all agree that the human cost of the Thirty Years War was very great. Large sections of
middle Europe were laid waste. There was also a brutalization of the spirit in the Thirty Years
War; appalling atrocities routinely occurred.10
Germany was not alone in her suffering. Broad areas of France, England, Scotland,
Ireland and the Low Countries were also ravaged by war in this period. Flanders became once
again the charnal house of Europe.
A few regions escaped the general carnage. Switzerland managed to keep war at bay.
Many of its young men went off to fight and never came home again, but the Swiss republics
themselves remained secure in their Alpine redoubts. They were so much the exception that a
German visitor in Switzerland wrote, “The country appeared to me so strange . . . as if I had
come to Brazil or China. There I saw a people going about their business in peace. . . . Nobody
stood in fear of the foe; nobody dreaded pillage, nobody was afraid of losing his property, his
limbs or his life.”11
During the early seventeenth century, the armies of Europe reached their largest size since
the Roman era. Their upkeep imposed heavy costs at the same time that public revenues were
reduced by the combined effect of famine, pestilence, war, depression, regressive taxation and
monetary inflation. They also were put to frequent use in most of Europe. War became highly
destructive of life and wealth and happiness during this period. Historian John Nef writes,
“For suspicion and hatred, devastation and hardship, there was to be nothing quite like it again
until the twentieth century.”12
Needy governments resorted to all the usual forms of fiscal folly. Some tried deficit
financing on a large scale. Others systematically debased their coinage. Many tried to wring
more taxes from sullen and resentful populations. As governments desperately attempted to
increase their revenues, the suffering people of Europe were goaded to acts of violent
resistance.
The result was an age of revolutions in virtually all European states. Most of these
overturnings were caused by fiscal problems. In Iberia, major revolutions broke out in
Catalonia and Portugal (1640) when Spanish ministers tried to raise large revenues. In
England, an ill-fated attempt by Charles I to obtain more money from his subjects led to full-
scale civil war, which ended in the execution of the king himself. In France, a series of
rebellions called the Frondes developed from 1648 to 1654, primarily as a result of fiscal
disputes between the Parlement of Paris and the Crown. In Naples, the revolt of the fisherman
Masaniello occurred after the kingdom had been drained of its wealth by the Spanish
government (1647). In Sicily a revolution began at Palermo (1647); its rallying cry was “Long
live the King and down with taxes.”13 Denmark experienced a revolution from the right that
created an absolutist monarchy in 1660, as a direct consequence of a fiscal crisis.
Even in Switzerland, there was a Peasants’ Revolt (1654), which happened after the
government ordered a major depreciation of its currency. The Ukraine had its “Great Ukrainian
Revolution” from 1648 to 1654. In Hungary, there was the Durucz movement. The Netherlands
experienced a bloodless coup d’état which broke the power of its ruling Stadtholders (1650).
Sweden went through a constitutional crisis (1650). The people of Scotland and Ireland
suffered a series of bloody rebellions and repressions from 1638 to 1660.
Smaller peasant risings also occurred throughout Europe in exceptionally large numbers.
In the south of France alone, one historian has counted no fewer than 264 insurrections
between 1596 and 1660—a larger number than in any other period of that region’s history.
Most were protests against intolerable economic conditions.14
The general crisis of the seventeenth century left its mark upon the culture of an age. The
greatest works of literature, painting, philosophy and theology in this era commonly expressed
a mood of increasing pessimism and despair. After 1601, Shakespeare turned from his
Elizabethan comedies and histories to his great tragedies— Hamlet (1600–01), Othello
(1604), Macbeth (1605–06), King Lear (1605–06). These works were dark visions of a
disordered world that seemed to conspire against human hope and happiness. At the same time,
Cervantes produced perhaps the greatest masterpiece of Spanish literature, Don Quixote
(1605, 1615), which for all its mordant humor was a sad and bitter description of a world that
had dissolved into social chaos.
The great painting of the period captured the same themes in different ways—in the
demonic fantasies of Pieter Brueghel (1564–1638), the spiritual suffering of El Greco (1548?
-1614?), the brooding melancholy of Rembrandt (1606–69), the sensual violence of Rubens
(1577–1640), and the bizarre grotesqueries of the Italian mannerists.
The philosophy of the period was similar in tone. The leading example was the work of
Thomas Hobbes (1588–1679), with its organizing assumption that the natural condition of man
was “poor and solitary, nasty, brutish and short.” Another dark vision of the world flowed
from the pen of Oxford clergyman Robert Burton (1577–1640), in his treatise on sadness and
disappointment called The Anatomy of Melancholy. There were always a few hopeful voices
who cried out against despair. This was also the age of Descartes (1596–1650), and his
affirmation of enduring values in an unstable world. But Descartes described his intellectual
journey as that of “a man who walks alone in the darkness.”15
In theology this was the era of neo-Calvinism—the narrowest, darkest, bleakest, and most
pessimistic form of Christianity that has ever been invented, more so even than the theology of
Calvin himself. As formally defined by the Synod of Dort (1618–19), the “five points” of neo-
Calvinism asserted that most people and all infants were irretrievably sunk in a state of total
depravity and inexorably condemned to eternal damnation; that Christ died not for everyone but
only for a chosen few; that human beings were utterly without power to achieve their own
salvation. Here was yet another cultural expression of an era in which people felt that the
world was entirely beyond their power to control. In a later and happier age neo-Calvinism
would make no sense at all, but in the early seventeenth century it seemed to fit the facts of the
human condition.
The crisis of the seventeenth century was marked by a revival of religious strife.
Protestants and Catholics became increasingly militant and uncompromising; the result was
angry and bloody conflict in virtually all European states. In England, the Puritans combined
religious and political ideas in a single movement that overturned the government. In Poland,
Catholic nobles destroyed most of the Protestant churches in that nation. In the Ukraine, the
revolt of the Cossacks was in part a religious movement.
Throughout central and eastern Europe, the people of Russia, Poland, and Germany
expressed their unhappiness in the customary way, by slaughtering the Jews. Chmielnicki’s
rebellion in Poland was wildly antisemitic. From 1648 to 1658, more than 700 Jewish
settlements were destroyed; perhaps 100,000 Jews were killed.16
The suffering of Europe in the general crisis of the seventeenth century was comparable to
that of the fourteenth century. But this time Europe suffered in a different way. The seventeenth
century was a period of falling population, but the magnitude of its decline was much smaller
than in the fourteenth century. The scale of misery did not approach the demographic disaster
that had been caused by the epic famines and Black Death of 1348.
The economic collapse was also not as severe as before. The pace of price-inflation was
greater this time, but the magnitude of price fluctuations was less extreme than in the medieval
price-revolution. The variance of prices fell by half from one of these great waves to another.
Periods of scarcity were less severe in their impact upon prices, and they occurred less
frequently. Even the worst years of this period were not nearly comparable with the famines of
the fourteenth century.
Beyond doubt, a long-term improvement had taken place during the intervening years in
productivity, production and per capita income. Markets had become larger and more tightly
integrated. Even the worst miseries of this dark era were measures of material progress.
During the crisis of the fourteenth century, high medieval civilization had collapsed. In the
crisis of the seventeenth century, the civilization of early modern Europe was shaken to its
deepest foundations. But it survived.
This new change-regime might be called the equilibrium of the Enlightenment. Its
historical dynamics were similar in many ways to the equilibrium of the Renaissance. This
was not a system at rest. It was a complex structure of countervailing movements, much like the
counterpoint of Johann Sebastian Bach (1685–1750), or the baroque harmony of George
Frederick Handel (1685–1759), whose lives and music perfectly captured the cultural spirit of
an age.
The material components of this equilibrium may be summarized in a few sentences. The
price of grain ceased rising, fell sharply, and then began to find a level. Food and energy came
down, manufactures went up, and the general price level began to fluctuate on a fixed and level
plane. Wages rose. Rents and interest fell. The distribution of wealth and income became a
little more equal. Population, production, and productivity grew slowly. There were many
local variations—price-inflation in Chile, wage-declines in Germany—but the major trends
were strong and consistent.
Figure 2.19 follows the price of Maryland tobacco (pence sterling per pound), and Barbadian
sugar (shillings per hundredweight). Their movements were broadly similar to those of wheat
prices in Europe during this period. The sources are Russell Menard, “Farm Prices of
Maryland Tobacco, 1659–1710,” Maryland Historical Magazine, 68 (1973) 80–85; Carville
Earle, The Evolution of a Tidewater Settlement: All Hallow’s Parish, Maryland, 1650–1783
(Chicago, 1975), 16; Richard B. Sheridan, Sugar and Slavery: An Economic History of the
British West Indies, 1623–1775 (St. Lawrence, Barbados, 1974), 496–97.
Figure 2.20 finds that money wages and real wages were rising in the period from 1650 to
1740, while rents and rates of interest were falling. The source is Peter J. Bowden,
“Statistics,” in Joan Thirsk, ed., The Agrarian History of England and Wales, vol. 5.2, 879.
Some historians of agriculture have perceived this period as a time of rural depression.
So it was at the start. Reports from the European countryside told a story of falling farm prices
and growing poverty among landowners. In 1685, the intendant of Rouen wrote, “The poverty
is such that a farmer who bought a woollen garment had to do without a linen one. The peasant
women, who used to love wearing red and blue petticoats, seldom have them now. They are
very poorly dressed and mostly make do with white linen.”2
But throughout the period from 1650 to 1730, returns to labor slowly increased. In
England and France, nominal wages went up for manual laborers and skilled artisans alike.
Real wages increased even more rapidly, nearly doubling for laborers and building craftsmen
in the south of England from 1650 to 1740. Continental workers did not fare as well as their
English counterparts; wages fell in parts of Germany. But throughout western Europe, farm
laborers and artisans tended to improve their material condition.3
At the same time that wages rose, rents came down. France’s pioneering price historian
the Vicomte d’ Avenel calculated that the rent of one hectare of farmland fell from the
equivalent of 12.8 francs in 1651–75 to 7.5 francs by 1701–25. Subsequent research by
academic specialists has confirmed his general findings in France, England, Italy, Germany and
most parts of Europe.4 Interest rates also declined in this period. The maximum lawful rate of
interest in England fell from 10 to 6 percent in the seventeenth century. Further, economic
historian H. J. Habakkuk discovered that interest actually charged by moneylenders declined
even more sharply than the legal maximum. During the general crisis of the seventeenth century,
English creditors had tended to charge the highest allowable rate. By the century’s end, actual
rates had fallen below the statutory limit.5 French rentes declined from 10 to 4 percent. In
England by the year 1735, the yield on long annuities sank as low of 3 percent. Dutch
commercial loans drifted downward to 2 percent or even less in this period.6
Figure 2.21 finds evidence of a long decline in rural rents, from a peak in the 1660s to a trough
in the 1730s. Similar trends appeared throughout Europe. The source is Abel, Agrarkrisen und
Agrarkonjunktur.
While interest rates were falling and wages were rising, commodity prices tended to
fluctuate within a fixed range from 1650 to 1735. The price of grain fell in nearly all European
countries, but other prices rose a little. Overall, the general price level remained
approximately the same—a pattern typical of price movements in every period of equilibrium.
Henry Phelps-Brown and Sheila Hopkins observed of their own price series in this period
there was “constancy in the general level, and this surprising stability, as it seems to us, was
maintained through fluctuations of two or three years’ span, due no doubt mostly to the harvest,
whose violence seems no less extraordinary.”7
Figure 2.22 shows that interest rates declined in western Europe in the period 1600–50 to
1700–40. The source is Homer, History of Interest Rates, 156–58, 161–65, 172–78.
Both scholars were startled by the strength and resilience of these persistent patterns,
which often were violently disrupted by extraneous events, and yet always recovered their
equilibrium through a period of seventy years. “What was the secret of this stability,” they
asked, “and how was it held through such vibration?”
The violence of vibration was sometimes very great. Changes in the weather continued to
cause sharp and sudden fluctuations in harvest prices. The people of France suffered severely
when shortages drove grain prices very high in the grand disettes of the mid—1670s, and
again in 1694–99, 1708–09, and 1713.
The worst crisis occurred in the years from 1694 to 1700. The weather turned wet and
very cold. Once again, the glaciers advanced through alpine valleys. Arctic icefields expanded
so far to the south that Eskimos in their kayaks appeared in Scotland. A major famine occurred
in Finland, and northern parishes in Scotland lost a third of their population. The south of
England was less severely affected, but everywhere in the English-speaking world these cruel
years were remembered as “King William’s Dearth” and “the barren years.”8 In Languedoc,
food was so desperately short in 1694 that the poor were reduced to eating grass—a thin bread
made of couch-weed and sheep entrails. In Narbonne, a priest wrote that the people looked
like “skeletons or spectres” (des équelletes ou d’espectres), as they wandered far from their
parishes, in searching of some way to “prolong their listless lives.”9
Climatic stresses were much the same as in the crisis of the 1590s, but this time the
cultural and economic consequences were very different. Grain prices briefly surged to record
levels in the 1690s, but when the weather improved price levels fell as rapidly as they had
risen, and equilibrium was restored. After 1700, scarcities came less often and were less
severe, but they kept on coming in the early eighteenth century without ending the material
equilibrium. Altogether, the economics of the ancien regime resembled the movements of an
eighteenth-century carriage on a rough country road. The vehicle jolted violently from rut to
rut. The irritable passengers were thrown painfully against one another. The carriage itself
swayed dangerously with every strain—but it continued to advance.10
Figure 2.23 shows the consequences of the long fall in returns to capital and the rise in real
wages during this period. Wealth inequality declined. One study finds that the wealth-shares of
the richest 1 percent in England shrank 20 percent in the years 1700–30. The source: Peter H.
Lindert, “Toward a Comparative History of Income and Wealth Inequality,” in Y. S. Brenner,
Hartmut Kaelbe, and Mark Thomas, eds., Income Distribution in Historical Perspective
(Cambridge, 1991) 212–31, 220.
Particularly striking was the growth of political stability in England. “The contrast
between political society in eighteenth and seventeenth century England is vivid and dramatic,”
Professor Plumb writes. “In the seventeenth century men killed, tortured and executed each
other for political beliefs; they sacked towns and brutalized the countryside. They were
subjected to conspiracy, plot and invasion. This uncertain political world lasted until 1715,
and then rapidly began to vanish. By comparison, the political structure of eighteenth century
England possesses adamantine strength and profound inertia.”
Plumb was wrong about inertia. In politics, as in economics, the equilibrium of the
Enlightenment was a dynamic process, with many moving parts. But he was right about its
stability and strength.19
Political stability was also achieved in France during the long reigns of Louis XIV
(1643–1715) and Louis XV (1715—1774). Its form was very different from that of the
English-speaking nations. While England moved toward toleration and parliamentary
government, France traveled in the opposite direction. Religious dissent was savagely
repressed, the Etats généraux were ignored, the Parlements were reduced to judicial and
administrative bodies, and the fetters of royal absolutism were riveted upon the body politic of
a great nation.
Prussia created a stable polity in yet a third form. This was a militarist monarchy that
derived its power from the Prussian army, and developed steadily under Frederick the Great
Elector of Brandenberg (1688–1713), and his successors Frederick Wilhelm I (1713–1740),
and Frederick the Great (1740–1786).
In Russia, Peter the Great (1682–1725) founded a fourth type of European state. It has
been well-described as an autocracy “enserfed from top to bottom . . . in which all strata of the
population without exception were required to perform service and pay dues to the ruler.”20
Many rulers were called “great” in this era: Louis Le Grand, Frederick the Great Elector,
Frederick the Great, Peter the Great, Catherine the Great. These leaders were no more able
than many of the failed monarchs who preceded them in the seventeenth century. The
enlightened despots of Europe were consumed by vanity and greed. They quarreled incessantly
with other princes, and squandered both the wealth of their nations and lives of their subjects
on petty and destructive rivalries. But an age of equilibrium is kind to reigning kings. A
reputation for greatness in a monarch often owes more to circumstance than to character.
The equilibrium of this era expressed itself not only in economics and politics, but also in
a philosophical system that was called Die Aufklarung in Germany, Illuminismo in Italy, and
the Enlightenment in England. Ironically, the only people of Europe who did not have a single
word for this movement were the French, who did more than any others to create it. The
Enlightenment is remembered in France not as an idea, but as an era and a set of individuals—
the siècle des lumières.
The man who personified this era better than any other was Francois Marie Arouet
(1694–1778), better known by his pen name, Voltaire. He thought of his own generation as the
epigoni of an age that he called the siècle de Louis XIV. This epoch he defined as the time
when “human reason in general was brought to perfection.” The young Voltaire recognized that
this era was not “exempt from crimes and misfortunes.” He fought against evil all his life, and
suffered many defeats. Nevertheless, his history of this era was suffused with a sense of
satisfaction in the events of the recent past, and a feeling of confidence for the future.21
Voltaire’s way of thinking about history was different from our own. He did not think in
modern terms of “material base” and “cultural superstructure.” If anything he tended to reverse
that causal relationship, but he had no doubt of a close connection between economic and
cultural processes. His history of this era was a paean to progress in both realms. He
celebrated the era of Louis XIV not so much as the apotheosis of a great king, but as a time
when “the middle classes enriched themselves by industry,” and the condition of peasants and
laborers became much improved. In his mind these material events were connected to the great
intellectual achievements of his age—to the science of Newton (1642–1727) and Halley
(1656–1742), the literature of Racine (1639–99) and Molière (1622–73), the philosophy of
Locke (1632–1704), Bayle (1647–1706) and Leibniz (1646–1716).
The work of these men had a fundamentally different texture from those who had preceded
them by only a generation. They believed that the universe was a place of order and symmetry;
that the world was within man’s power to understand and even to control.
These attitudes came to be shared by many people in the early eighteenth century. The
great historian Edward Gibbon wrote complacently in his autobiography, “My lot might have
been that of a slave, a savage, or a peasant, nor can I reflect without pleasure on the bounty of
Nature, which cast my birth in a free and civilized country, in an age of science and
philosophy.”22
The same spirit was expressed in many different ways by English literati such as Pope
(1688–1744), by the German composers Bach (1685–1750) and Handel (1685–1759), by
French social philosophers Montesquieu (1689–1755) and Quesnay (1694–1774), by scientists
such as the Swedish Linnaeus (1707–1778) and the American Franklin (1706–1790), and by
theologians such as Edwards (1703–1758) and Zinzendorf (1700–1760).
These men of the Enlightenment were keenly aware of evil in the world. But even as they
struggled against injustice, and suffered from its effects, the world appeared to them as a place
of order, harmony, equilibrium and balance. Their mechanical metaphors represented the union
of dynamism and stability, a belief in the possibility of progress and order.s
The Enlightenment was an era with major social problems, but it was also a time when
people believed that problems could be solved. The savants of this age disagreed in their
solutions, but they shared a stubborn optimism that set them squarely apart from earlier
generations. That attitude was a zeitgeist in the strict sense, a spirit grounded in the historical
conditions of the age.23
The philosophical gentlemen of the enlightenment invented many of our modern social
sciences—including the science of economics. Their economic ideas commonly took two
countervailing forms. One would later be called mercantilism. It encouraged the active
intervention of the state in economic processes, and was given its classical expression by the
ministers of Louis XIV, notably Jean Baptiste Colbert. The other economic ideology would
later be called laisserfaire. It was developed in this period by the French physiocrats, and in
particular by Francois Quesnay. There is a story, perhaps apocryphal, of a conversation
between Quesnay and the Dauphin:
“What would you do if you were King?” the Dauphin asked.
“Nothing,” said Quesnay.
“Then who would govern?”
“The law,” Quesnay replied.24
Many enlightened thinkers shifted back and forth from one of these economic ideas to the other.
One historian has remarked upon their “characteristic oscillation between mercantilist and
laisser faire thought.”25 Others became fierce partisans of a single ideology. But even as they
differed with one another, the philosophes of the enlightenment shared a common cosmology.
The central assumption in this cosmology was an idea that Jean Ehrard calls la nature-
horloge, the world as a piece of clockwork. Some believed that the machinery needed constant
tinkering. Others thought that the machine would go of itself. But the major premise was the
same: un univers-horloge, un Dieu horloger.26
These assumptions came to be widely shared in the early eighteenth century because they
seemed to fit the empirical facts. The prevailing ideas of balance and equilibrium in the
enlightenment were not merely a philosopher’s dream. They represented the world as it
actually was—for a time.
THE THIRD WAVE
The Price Revolution of the Eighteenth Century
People of the same trade seldom meet together, even for merriment or diversion, but the
conversation ends in a conspiracy against the public, or in some contrivance to raise
prices.
—Adam Smith, Wealth of Nations (1776)
PARIS, September 3, 1729, the grand festival of the Dauphin’s birth. At Versailles, a little past
three o’clock in the morning, the Queen was delivered of a healthy son, who became at birth
heir-apparent to the throne of France. A royal messenger was ordered to carry the happy news
to Paris. He spurred his horse forward, galloping toward the first light of dawn in the eastern
sky. The sleeping city lay open before him.
In the year 1729, Paris was the capital not merely of a country but of a civilization. It was
a city of dramatic contrasts. Some of its narrow and crooked streets had changed little since the
thirteenth century. In other neighborhoods a great rebuilding was underway. The ancient city
walls had been pulled down, and in their place royal engineers had laid out the first tree-lined
boulevards. The old fortified gates had been replaced by open arcs de triomph. The Champs
d’Elysses had been extended from the Tuileries as far as the Place d’Etoile. The Place des
Victoires and Place Vendôme had been created, and those noble spaces were already
surrounded by huge private hotels of the aristocracy and nouveau riche.1
Paris had many nouveaux riches in 1729. The city had become a great center of trade and
finance. Only a few years earlier its hated usuriers had been confined behind heavy iron
grilles in the serpentine passages of the rue Quincampoix. Now the richest usuriers were
called financiers, and their mansions were scattered through the city. A great banque had
recently been founded, and a new bourse had opened for the exchange of securities. Our
modern language of finance was invented in the early eighteenth century. Much of it is French.
Paris had grown rich, but many Parisians remained desperately poor. Extravagant wealth
and grotesque poverty lived side by side. Beggars died of hunger in the streets, while the rich
rode past in gilded chairs on the shoulders of other human beings. The suffering poor crowded
miserably into a maze of medieval tenements. Many lived like animals on close-built bridges
above the river Seine, while the great families of France resided in magnificent mansions only
a few streets away.
The cultural contrasts were equally dramatic. Paris in 1729 was the city of light, the seat
of the Enlightenment, the heavenly city of the eighteenth-century philosophers. Its great
libraries in the Bibliothèque Royal, the Bibliothèque Mazarin and the Bibliothèque Ste.
Geneviève were the among the best in the world. Its elegant salons set the intellectual fashion
for enlightened people everywhere.
At the same time Paris was also a capital of despotic darkness. It was the controlling
center of an absolutism that ruled by terror, cunning, and brutal force. High above the city’s
fabled rooftops rose the walls of the Bastille, where state prisoners were held for life without
the slightest shadow of legality. Next to the river Seine stood the dark and silent mass of the
Châtelet, the prison where ordinary Parisians were confined without warrant and punished
without trial. In the center of the city was the Place Greve, where huge crowds gathered every
week before the City Hall to watch obscene tortures inflicted upon shrieking victims.
Paris in 1729 was a city divided against itself. Its restless population was kept in order
by a garrison of Swiss mercenaries and by large numbers of informers, spies, detectives and
agents provocateurs. Our modern language of espionage and surveillance is French, and much
of it was invented in this era. A regime of great and terrible cruelty dominated its people by
methods that were profoundly hostile to the ethics of Christianity and the dreams of the
Enlightenment.
But on the day of the Dauphin’s birth, September 3, 1729, all this was forgotten. The
people of Paris put aside their differences and joined freely in a festival of joy. When news of
the infant’s arrival reached the city, the tocsin was sounded and cannon were fired. Every
house was ordered to be illuminated for three nights, and every shop was commanded to be
closed for three days, while preparations began for a grand celebration. Each evening bonfires
burned in the open squares. Casks of wine were opened to all who wished to drink. The poor
were given free sausages and small loaves of bread, baked specially for the occasion.
On September 7, at exactly 5:30 in the afternoon, the royal father of the newborn child
proudly entered the city. Louis XV was a handsome youth, barely nineteen years old. He
proceeded in high pomp to the Cathedral of Notre Dame, escorted by two companies of
Musketeers and the Royal Company of Falconers, with birds of prey perched on their gloved
fists. The princes of the blood and the great nobility followed in a long line of gilded
carriages.
When the King reached the Cathedral, the great guns of the royal artillery fired a salute in
his honor. The infantry discharged three volleys of a feu de joie. Flashes of flame and clouds
of smoke rippled down their long ranks from the Tuileries to Notre Dame. Inside the crowded
cathedral three Cardinals led the singing of a Te Deum. Afterwards, the King traveled in great
state to the city hall for dinner and a display of fireworks. His meal was served by the prévôt
des marchands JacquesEtienne Turgot himself, as obsequious as the lowest lackey. At 11:30
the King rose from his table and made a tour of the city. The houses were ablaze with light.
Each neighborhood competed for the honor of the best display. The Place Vendôme was judged
the winner: its buildings were illuminated with perfect symmetry, and its street lamps were
replaced by glittering chandeliers.
The celebration of the Dauphin’s birth continued for a week. It spread to every city of
France, and to many other nations. By all reports, people of every rank joined wholeheartedly
in these events. What they celebrated was not merely the arrival of the little Dauphin himself,
but the promise of order, prosperity, peace and continuity. The people of France still keenly
remembered the cruel disorders of the last century. They recalled the terrible uncertainties of a
time, not very long ago, when the last king in his grave and the next was in his cradle, and
nobody knew what the future might bring.
The people of Europe welcomed the birth of the Dauphin as a sign that order, stability and
equilibrium would continue for many years to come. In 1729, France was at peace with all the
great states of Europe. Her harvests were good, her commerce was flourishing, and her arts
were the envy of every nation. The people of this great kingdom looked forward to a future of
prosperity and peace with increasing confidence.2
But it was not to be. In the very hour of the Dauphin’s birth, a deep change was silently
occurring in the dynamics of European history. Once again, an important indicator was the
movement of prices. At Paris in approximately the year 1729, the price-equilibrium of the
Enlightenment quietly approached its end. A new movement began, which might be called the
price-revolution of the eighteenth century.
Similar movements also appeared in French Canada, but in Latin America, the trends
were more complex. Agricultural prices in the Spanish and Portuguese colonies fell or
remained on the same level until 1750, and kept on falling in some places (such as Salvador
and ironically Potosí) as late as the 1780s. But in Mexico, Chile, and other parts of Latin
America, prices were generally rising from the 1760s. By the late 1780s, the price-revolution
of the eighteenth century was operating broadly there. Historian John Coatsworth writes of
Latin America in general that “in all cases for which there are data, commodity prices were
rising in the 1790s and during the war years that followed.”7
The same pattern also appeared in Asia and the Middle East. The movement of Chinese
grain prices during the eighteenth century was similar in trend, but smaller in magnitude. The
Ottoman Empire also experienced a long wave of rising prices. The price-revolution of the
eighteenth century was truly a world event.8
At first, the new trend advanced slowly and unsteadily. For a time, contemporaries took it
to be merely another market-flutter. In retrospect, however, the profile of a price-revolution
was clearly evident from the start, especially in the distinctive pattern of price-relatives which
were much the same as in the thirteenth and sixteenth centuries.
Figure 3.02 finds evidence in French grain prices that the 18th century price-revolution was an
exponential process, dynamic in its expanding magnitudes and amplitudes, but stable in its
underlying rate of change. The data are from C. E. Labrousse, Ruggiero Romano and F. G.
Dreyfus, Le prix du froment en France au temps de la monnaie stable (1726–1913) (Paris,
1970), xiv. Trendlines are fitted with an Excel 5.0 program.
Once again, the most rapid movements occurred in the price of energy and food. Of nine
basic commodities in France, the largest increase occurred in the cost of firewood and
charcoal.9 Close behind the soaring cost of energy came the price of food. Foodstuffs in
general rose rapidly during the eighteenth century, as in every other price-revolution. The
largest increases appeared in staple commodities that were the staff of life among the poor—
the cheaper grains and beans. Rates of inflation were more moderate for meat and wine. The
smallest gains were in the price of manufactured products, which lagged behind as they had
done in every other great wave.10
The prime mover of this price-revolution was the increasing pressure of aggregate
demand, caused by an acceleration in the growth of population. In England, demographic
historians Anthony Wrigley and Roger Schofield discovered that the rhythm of price-
movements correlated closely with rates of population-increase in the eighteenth century. After
a long pause from 1660 to 1720, the population of England began to grow more rapidly during
the late 1720s, at precisely the same moment when the price-revolution also started. The
correlation could not have been more exact.11
Figure 3.03 finds that the movement of price relatives in the eighteenth century was similar to
those in other price revolutions. In France, the cost of energy went highest, closely followed by
food and raw materials. Processed products, manufactures, and wages lagged far behind. The
data are from Ernest Labrousse, Esquisse du mouvement des prix et des revenus en France au
XVIIIe siècle (2 vols., Paris, 1933), II, 98.
Figure 3.04 shows a recurrent pattern in price revolutions: surging energy prices in late stages
of the long wave. This was the case in Europe and even in America during the late eighteenth
century. The source is George F. Warren and Frank A. Pearson, Prices (New York, 1933), 11-
27; reprinted in part in the Historical Statistics of the United States, Colonial Times to 1970
(Washington, 1976), series E52–57.
A similar association between rising prices and increasing population also appeared in
other European states. In eastern Europe, the number of inhabitants who lived within the old
boundaries of Brandenberg-Prussia rose from less than 1.6 million people at the death of
Frederick William the Great Elector (1688) to nearly four million by the death of Frederick the
Great (1786). Large increases occurred in most parts of Europe, with a few exceptions such as
the Netherlands. The trend of prices matched this upward curve of population-growth.12
Why did population grow in the eighteenth century? In demographic terms, it happened
mainly because of a decline in age at marriage and a small rise in rates of intramarital fertility.
In many parts of rural Europe, the average age at first marriage for women fell from 27 in the
mid-seventeenth century to 24 or even 23 in the mid-eighteenth. Once married, women tended
to reduce intervals between births, and began to bear children more frequently. The average
age of a woman at the birth of her last child also rose a little—evidence of a deliberate
decision not to limit the size of families as narrowly as had been done in the mid-seventeenth
century.
There was also a modest improvement in life expectancy for infants and women during
the eighteenth century, and a moderate stabilization of death-rates. But the primary cause of
population growth in this period was a rise in fertility, not a fall in mortality.13
Why did men and women choose to marry earlier and have more children? An
improvement in material conditions was part of the answer, but not the whole of it. Husbands
and wives decided to have more children because the world appeared to have become a better
place in which to raise a family. Always that sort of judgment has been made in terms that are
broadly cultural rather than narrowly material.
Figure 3.05 compares quinquennial estimates of English population with a 25-year moving
average of the Phelps-Brown-Hopkins index of consumable prices in the south of England. The
source is E. A. Wrigley and Roger Schofield, The Population History of England, 1541–
1871; A Reconstruction (Cambridge, 1981), 403
Governments responded to the price-revolution with various fiscal expedients that were
also inflationary. As public spending tended to exceed income, the gap was filled with
borrowing on a heroic scale. The government of France resorted to perpetual annuities called
rentes. So large was the French national debt in the eighteenth century that it spawned a
capitalist class called rentiers. Major European wars were financed by these securities in
large volume, and by unfunded borrowing as well.
Similar trends also occurred in Britain, where the government met its obligations by
issuing “consolidated annuities,” or “consols” for short. These securities paid a nominal 3
percent, but in most years they traded below par and the yield rose in that proportion. The
marketvalue of British consols fell sharply during periods of war, when large quantities were
issued and public confidence declined. In 1745, after the effect of rebellion in Scotland was
added to a general European war, London’s security market suffered its first “Black Friday.”
The price of Consols dropped below 75. A similar crisis occurred during the Seven Years War
(1754–63), when Britain’s national debt rose to the then unimaginable level of 100 million
pounds, and consols fell below 80. The worst of these fiscal crises developed during the
American Revolution, when Britain’s national debt rapidly expanded and consols plummeted
as low as 54 before recovering after the peace of 1783. Whenever they did so, interest rates
surged.19
Figure 3.07 estimates the flow of gold and silver to Europe from all sources during three
centuries. The increase in the price revolution (1730–1800) was smaller than in the preceding
price equilibrium (1660–1730). Overall the rhythm in both periods was much the same. The
source is Michel Morineau, Incroyables gazettes et fabuleux métaux: les retours des trésors
américains d’après les gazettes hollandaises (XVIe-XVIIIe siècles) (Paris, 1985), 578.
Returns to commercial capital also increased rapidly in this period. A good barometer
was the rate of interest. In the Netherlands, market-rates for short-term loans on the capital-rich
Amsterdam Exchange had fallen as low as 1¾ percent during the period from 1700 to 1725.
From this nadir, interest rates rose steadily during the eighteenth century. By 1738, the British
Parliament was informed that interestrates in the Low Countries were normally 2 to 3 percent.
They climbed to 3 or 4 percent during the War of American Independence (1775–83), and 4 to
6 percent by the early 1790s.
Dutch interest rates tended to be the lowest in Europe, but similar trends appeared in
every financial center. These movements were highly volatile, fluttering up and down in
Europe’s still very small capital markets. Heavy wartime borrowing sent interest rates soaring;
periods of peace brought them crashing down again. These fluctuations occurred on the curve
of a rising secular trend. Through the eighteenth century, interest rates climbed higher and
higher.20
As the price-revolution continued, the rich and powerful generally did well for
themselves. The mid-eighteenth century was a golden age for country gentry and landowning
elites. The English agricultural reformer Arthur Young observed that rents increased sharply
during the Seven Years War, and kept on increasing thereafter. In France, farm rents doubled
during the middle decades of the eighteenth century. Land prices increased even more rapidly;
the cost of real estate quadrupled in many parts of Europe during the eighteenth century. Here
was another process that David Ricardo studied at first hand. Ricardian theories of rent and
wages should be read not as timeless economic truths, but as highly perceptive historical
descriptions of the eighteenth century price-revolution, in its middle and later stages.21
Figure 3.08 follows the rise in market rates of interest on British public securities. The
evidence shows a pattern of surges during major wars, and a long upward trend that matched
the price revolution. Dutch interest rates rose from a range of 1.75 to 2 percent (1700–25) to a
range of 8 to 10 percent (1798). In France, yields on rentes were highly volatile, rising from 2
percent in 1720 to 34 percent in 1798. Source: Sidney Homer, History of Interest Rates (1963,
2d ed., 1977, New Brunswick, N.J.), 161–62.
Figure 3.09 finds that rent and real estate rose more rapidly than consumer prices. Values for
England are in silver shillings per acre (1725–49=100); and for Europe in silver equivalents
of local coinage (1731–40=100). Sources: Abel, Agrarkrisen und Agrarkonjunktur; and R. C.
Allen, “Freehold Land and Interest Rates” Economic History Review 2d ser. 41 (1988) 33–50.
While rent and interest kept up with inflation, wages fell behind. Money wages tended to
increase a little, but did not keep pace with commodity prices. In consequence, real wages fell
from as early as the 1730s to the nineteenth century. This trend appeared in England, France,
Germany, Austria, Poland, and Denmark during the eighteenth century. It was the case both for
free laborers in western Europe and serfs in eastern Europe. The same cause_increasing
population—that drove up commodity prices also depressed real wages by expanding the size
of the work force. Wilhelm Abel concluded from thirty years’ study of this subject that “with
few exceptions, western and central European wages between 1740 and 1800 were left far
behind by the rising price of cereals.”22
The result of this decline in real wages in the eighteenth century was different from earlier
price-revolutions. It caused much suffering among the poor, but no epidemic famines as in the
fourteenth century and no decline of population as in the seventeenth. Here is a striking
paradox in the history of price-revolutions. As one of these great waves followed another,
rates of inflation increased but human suffering diminished. How could this have been the
case?
One important factor, beloved of classical economists, was the expansion and integration
of world markets. Another was the improvement of income per capita, which meant that fewer
people were living near the edge. A third was the growth of welfare which, however limited,
helped to prevent starvation. The price of all these improvements was acceleration in rates of
inflation, and diminution of its cruelest consequences.
A case in point was the history of welfare. The great Hungarian scholar Karl Polanyi
identified an important event in this long process. In 1795, the justices of Britain’s County of
Berkshire met at the Pelikan Inn in Speenhamland, and agreed to make a change in their system
of poor-relief. They ordered that “subsidies in aid of wages would be granted in accordance
with a scale dependent upon the price of bread, so that a minimum income should be assured to
the poor irrespective of their earnings.”
This “Speenhamland system” spread rapidly across England, and was practiced during
the next three decades, until abolished in 1834. It contributed to rising prices, even while
controlling their effects. All of these events were part of the response to the price-revolution,
after it was discovered as a secular trend.
Figure 3.10 finds evidence of a long decline in real wages. It began as early as 1740 and
continued through the full span of the price revolution, accelerating after 1775 in Italy, after
1780 in Germany, and after 1800 in England. Sources include E. H. Phelps-Brown and Sheila
Hopkins, “Seven Centuries of the Prices of Consumables, Compared with Builders’ Wage
Rates,” Economica 23 (1956) 296–315); Ruggiero Romano, Prezzi e salari e servizi a Napoli
nei Secolo XVIII (1734–1806) (Milan, 1965); and Abel, Agrarkrisen und Agrarkonjunktur.
Cultural Responses
Soon after the price-revolution became clearly visible in the middle years of the eighteenth
century, a change began to occur in the cultural mood. Intellectual historians have long noted
this event without being able to explain it in a satisfactory way. In 1756, a massive earthquake
destroyed a large part of the city of Lisbon. This disaster inspired an outpouring of literature
throughout Europe, which expressed a new spirit of scepticism, confusion, pessimism and even
cultural despair. The optimism of the young Voltaire’s Age of Louis XIV suddenly gave way to
the darkness of his Poème sur le désastre de Lisbonne (1756) and the bitter satire of Candide
(1759). Intellectual historians have suggested that the cause of this transformation was the
Lisbon earthquake itself. This is an error. Natural catastrophes of that sort had occurred in
every era. What was new was the response. In the mid-eighteenth century events began to be
perceived in a different way.
Another intellectual event in this era was a religious movement that overspread the
Protestant world during the mid-eighteenth century. In English-speaking America it was named
the Great Awakening, and began with the preaching of Jonathan Edwards in 1734. In Britain it
was known as the evangelical movement and dated from the conversion experiences of John
and Charles Wesley and George Whitefield in 1738. A similar movement developed in
Scandinavia and Germany, where it was called pietismus. There were many names in different
nations, but they referred to a great international movement that revived the “religion of the
heart,” and rejected the optimism of the Enlightenment. Pietism in this sense flourished
throughout Protestant Europe during the 1740s and 1750s, and continued to the end of the
century.
These intellectual trends were not mechanical reflexes of material processes. Their
dynamics were more complex. One might hypothesize that cultural and material trends
simultaneously expressed underlying imbalances in the Western world during the mid-
eighteenth century.
Figure 3.11 compares ratios of births outside of marriage to all births by decade in 98 English
parishes, with the Abel index of decennial wheat prices in England (grams of silver per 100
kilograms of wheat); and also illegitimacy ratios for France with the Abel series of French
wheat prices. Sources are Abel, Agrarkrisen und Agrarkonjunktur, appendix; Yves Blayo,
“Mouvement naturel de la population française de 1740 à 1829,” Population 25 (1970) 15–
64; Peter Laslett, Karla Osterveen and Richard M. Smith, eds., Bastardy and Its Comparative
History (Cambridge, 1980) 14–15.
The growth of class conflict was attributed to “scarcity” and soaring prices. An
anonymous English pamphleteer wrote in 1766:
People not perceiving a scarcity, are apt to be jealous of one another; each suspecting
another’s inequality of gain to rob him of his share, every one will be employing his skill
and power, the best he can, to procure to himself the same plenty as formerly. This is but
scrambling amongst ourselves, and helps us no more against our want, then the struggling
for a short coverlet, by those who lie together, till it is pulled to pieces, will preserve
them from the cold.
The laborer’s share being seldom more than a bare subsistence, never allows
that body of men time or opportunity to raise their thought above that, or to contest with
the richer for their’s;—unless when some uncommon and great distress, uniting them in
one universal ferment, makes them forget respect, and emboldens them to serve their
wants with armed force; and then sometimes they break in upon the rich, and sweep all
like a deluge. But this rarely happens, but in the MALADMINISTRATION OF
NEGLECTED AND MISMANAGED GOVERNMENT.28
The growth of inequality was an international trend in the late eighteenth century. It
appeared in Europe, Great Britain and even in the new United States, where many studies have
found a rapid increase in the concentration of wealth during the period from 1760 to 1830.
The effect of growing inequality was to disrupt the moral economy of the western society,
and to destabilize its material order. The humanitarian ethics of Christianity, which the
Enlightenment had done much to reinforce, compelled the nations of western Europe to spend
larger sums on social welfare than ever before. In France during the 1780s the poor received
more than 20 million livres in government assistance alone, plus larger sums from the church
and private individuals. This vast effort prevented the famines that had occurred in the
fourteenth century, but intensified social tensions. In place of starvation there was hunger.
Instead of despair there was rage—an emotion far more dangerous to the standing order.
Inequality also created material strains within western society. As poor families devoted
more of their income to bread, less remained for other things. The result was shrinkage of
demand, which caused sharp contractions in markets for industrial goods. The economies of
western Europe in the 1780s experienced the same combination of inflation and stagnation that
marked the penultimate stage of every other price-revolution.
Governments, caught in a spiral of increasing instability, struggled to maintain their
solvency by raising taxes, as Britain did throughout its empire in 1763–75, and France
attempted to do in 1783–88. Entrenched elites were able to shift these burdens away from
themselves. The new taxes, like the old ones, fell heavily on those who were least able to bear
them. In England, the resistance of the country gentry to a trivial tax on cider in 1763
compelled the government to try the dangerous expedient of taxing America, with disastrous
results for the empire.
In France, the crown had long conciliated the nobility and haut bourgeoisie by exempting
them from various taxes. The Marquis de Lafayette inherited an estate that paid him 140,000
livres a year, but he was exempt from the taille which took a large part of a peasant’s small
surplus. Many rich bourgeois were also released from the taille. By and large it was paid by
the people of middling estates, and by the working poor. There were other taxes, such as the
capitation (a cross between a poll tax and an income tax) and vingtieme (“the twentieth”).
Both were nominally paid by everyone, but the rich and strong could reduce these obligations
by payment of a lump sum, which was much diminished by inflation. Indirect taxes such as
customs duties, excise taxes and the hated salt tax were paid by all, but tended to be passed on
to the consumer. Again, it was the poor and middling who bore the weight. Other taxes in kind,
notably the corvée and the transport militaire, fell heavily upon the peasantry. This system of
regressive taxation simultaneously increased social resentments, diminished the moral
authority of the standing order, and shrank the government’s income.29
Figure 3.12 is one of many studies that find growing inequality in the period 1750–1830. It
surveys the distribution of taxable wealth in real estate (current dollars), for the town of
Concord, Massachusetts, twenty miles west of Boston. The data are taken from town valuations
in 1770 and 1826, and from the federal direct tax assessment in 1798. The source is D. H.
Fischer, ed., Concord: The Social History of a New England Town, 1750–1850 (Waltham,
1983) 91, 222. Similar trends, with higher levels of inequality, appear for personal wealth,
total wealth, and the distribution of real estate by acres.
As public revenue lagged behind expenditures, public debt began to grow rapidly,
trebling in fifteen years from 1773 to 1788. In France by 1789, nearly half of national spending
went for interest payments on the national debt. Europe’s greatest power, with its massive
military spending, became a heavy debtor. But it was not the heaviest. In relative terms, other
countries such as the Netherlands had an even larger national debt than France during the late
eighteenth century.30
Britain’s national debt also grew at a formidable rate, rising during the Seven Years War,
falling in the peace that followed, then rising again during the American War of Independence.
These fluctuations gave rise to heavy speculation in public securities. There were many angry
complaints against speculators, whose operations added to fiscal instability. But one of this
group responded, “There is only one way to get rid of us; pay off the national debt.”
This, Britain was unable to do. Stock speculation, originally conducted furtively in alleys
and coffee houses, institutionalized itself. By the year 1773, a favorite meeting place called
New Jonathan’s Coffee House posted a sign saying “The Stock Exchange” above its entrance,
and admitted only those who paid for the privilege.
Speculators found opportunities in the growing economic instabilities of this era, and
created further instability in their turn. A case in point was Sir George Colebrooke, scion of a
prominent English banking family and “a great adventurer in . . . articles of speculation.”
Colebrooke attempted to corner the English market in hemp, a strategic commodity for the
Royal Navy. One of his rivals unkindly observed that his purpose was “so that if he should be
ordered to be hanged, no one will have hemp enough to find him a halter.”
When his national hemp corner failed, Colebrooke tried in 1771–72 to make a world
corner on alum, a substance used in the dying of textiles. He actually succeeded in buying up
the output of most major suppliers, but drove the price so high that new producers suddenly
appeared. The market for alum was glutted and Colebrooke was ruined, dragging down other
speculators with him. His fall contributed to a massive credit crisis throughout Europe.31
There were many financial collapses in the second half of the eighteenth century. One of
them began in the Netherlands with the failure of the Dutch firm of de Neufville (1763), and
spread quickly to Germany, France, Britain and America. Another panic started in Scotland
with the failure of a Scottish banker and speculator named Alexander Fordyce, who had taken
a short position in East India stock and was ruined by a sudden rise in the market. He fled to
Europe, leaving a disaster in his wake. The reverberations spread throughout the Atlantic
world.32
There were also growing political tensions, which in the 1760s and 1770s began to
develop into armed insurrections. The Swiss city of Geneva experienced a bourgeois
revolution in 1768 and a counterrevolution in 1782. A close student of these events concludes
that they rose partly from the writings of Jean-Jacques Rousseau and partly from price
movements in Switzerland.33
In Russia, a great rebellion was led by Cossack private Emilian Pugachev, who killed
members of the gentry and captured many towns. Pugachev’s Rebellion grew in large part from
economic grievances that had been exacerbated by rising prices. Other rebellions broke out in
the Netherlands, Corsica, and Ireland.
The largest of these insurgencies developed in England’s American colonies, in response
to repeated attempts by the British government to raise taxes in the Revenue Act of 1764, the
Stamp Act of 1765, the Townshend Acts of 1767 and the Tea Act of 1773.
The American rising was not unique. The regiments of British infantry that were sent to
restore order in Boston after the Tea Party had been employed on many similar missions
throughout the British Empire. The history of their service was a record of the rising spirit of
rebellion throughout the western world. The 23rd Foot (Royal Welch Fusiliers) had been used
to “restore order” throughout Devon and Cornwall. The 18th Foot (Royal Irish) had been
putting down riots against press gangs in Whitehaven. The 43rd and eight other regiments had
been assigned to suppress agrarian risings through twelve counties of the South Midlands and
East Anglia in 1766. The 4th Foot had been suppressing smugglers along the Channel coast,
and the British Marines had been dispatched on the same mission into Romney Marsh. Many
regiments had served in Ireland, which was in a state of insurrection in 1771 and 1772. In
England itself there were at least 159 major riots between 1740 and 1775, and minor ones
beyond counting.34
At the same time, the nobility from Poland to France demanded more advantages for
themselves. Statesmen struggled to hold the system together, while short-sighted elites
destroyed the props of their own privilege. By 1783, the long inflation was turning class
against class. The old regime was on the edge of disaster.
Figure 3.13 represents annual harvest prices in England as a percentage of a 25-year moving
average. It shows an increase in the severity of harvest shortages, peaking circa 1799–1816.
Thereafter, the trend reversed. The source is Henry Phelps-Brown and Sheila V. Hopkins, A
Perspective of Wages and Prices (London, 1981), 59.
Ministers tried desperately to balance their books. Economies were enacted. The king
himself, Louis XVI, set an example by reducing his household expenses from 22 million livres
to 17 million, largely by consolidating the royal stables. But this was merely 3 percent of the
deficit. Much of the budget went for irreducible military and social spending. Half of it was
needed for service on the debt.
The financial ministers of Louis XVI pleaded desperately for more revenue, and were
refused. The possessing classes refused to accept new taxes. Many demanded more privileges
and exemptions. This combination of public need and private greed was fatal to the old regime.
In scenes reminiscent of fourteenth century England, sixteenth century Spain, and twentieth
century America, the national credit of the most powerful nation in the world was
systematically wrecked by the selfishness of its affluent citizens.3
The effect of fiscal crisis in France was compounded by a world depression in commerce
and industry. From 1782 to 1789, the output of the French textile industry fell by 50 percent.
Employers ruthlessly laid off workers. In the town of Troyes alone, it was reported that 10,000
people lost their jobs. Conditions were much the same throughout western Europe and North
America during the 1780s. Unemployment rapidly increased among silkworkers in Italy,
shipbuilders in Massachusetts, and miners in Germany. Those who kept their jobs lost much of
their income, as real wages declined.4
Benjamin Franklin toured a textile factory in Norwich and observed a cruel and bitter
irony. He was amazed to see that the English clothmakers were themselves “half-naked or in
tatters.” The factory owner pointed proudly to his inventory and said, “those cloths are for
Italy, those for Germany, the ones over here for the American islands, and those for the
continent.” Franklin replied, “Have you none for the factory workers of Norwich?”5
When wages fell and the price of food surged throughout the western world, crime
increased sharply—especially crimes against property. The poor in desperation took what they
could get no other way. The long downward trend in crime reversed during the later stages of
the price-revolution, as it had done in every other great wave. Crimes against property surged
to high levels.
Local and national governments made a major effort to provide relief on an
unprecedented scale, and succeeded in doing so. The French minister Necker suspended grain
exports in 1788, bought heavily abroad, and compelled merchants to sell their stocks. In
consequence, there was nothing like the epidemic famines of the fourteenth century, nor even a
demographic contraction as in the seventeenth century. Few people starved in the 1780s, but
many were hungry, and more were angry.
The politics of hunger were very different from those of starvation. In the early fourteenth
century, starving peasants had been too weak to rebel. In the late eighteenth century, hungry
peasants were outraged against feudal lords and seigneurial dues. They were infuriated by the
prosperity of bourgeois speculators with their bulging granaries. They felt oppressed by
bullying tax-gatherers and corrupt officials.
Figure 3.14 compares prosecutions for theft in the Staffordshire Assizes with the Schumpeter-
Gilboy price index, and with periods of war and depression. It shows that crime increased in
periods of inflation and depression. Wars caused crime rates to fall in their early years, then to
rise in later years and to rise higher in immediate post-bellum periods. The greatest increases
in crime occurred when these conditions coincided in post-bellum periods of stagflation. The
source for the data shown here is Douglas Hay, “War, Dearth and Theft in the Eighteenth
Century: The Record of English Courts,” Past & Present 95 (1982) 125, which offers a
different interpretation. The Schumpeter-Gilboy index is in Mitchell and Deane, Abstract of
British Historical Statistics, 468–69.
Few people in France blamed their amiable King Louis XVI, but many hated his Austrian
Queen, Marie Antoinette. While hunger stalked the countryside she amused herself in an
endless whirl of fashion. She made a game of peasant life, building a play-cottage of the finest
materials and tending miniature fields and flocks with silver tools that seemed to mock the
misery of her suffering subjects.
Marie Antoinette never said “let them eat cake,” but similar expressions were heard from
high officials. When a royal officer in Touraine was told in 1788 that the peasants had no grain,
he did actually say, “Let them eat grass.” An officer employed by the Duc de Deux Ponts
observed contemptuously of the local peasantry in 1786, “It is our interest to feed them, but it
would be dangerous to fatten them.” An old Alderman of Orleans was arrested after the
Revolution began for allegedly saying, “If all the little girls died, there would be plenty of
bread.”6
A sense of outrage against the arrogance and imbecility of ruling elites developed rapidly
throughout Europe. That emotion was specially strong in France. The most powerful nation in
Europe was in some respects the most vulnerable. It had no social safety-valve comparable to
the virgin land of Russia and America, and no outlet such as the heavy emigration from Britain
and Germany. In France during the late 1780s, anger and frustration overflowed into acts of
violence.
First came individual acts of rage—the burning of a speculator’s house in Paris, the
beating of a bailiff in Languedoc, the stoning of a bishop in Manosque, the theft of grain
everywhere. By 1788, gangs of desperate men were roaming the countryside, stealing what
food they could find and assaulting tax collectors. In the Spring of 1789, food riots broke out in
the cities and towns, and the spirit of resistance spread swiftly through the countryside. The
authorities made the worst possible response—sporadic acts of symbolic violence that were
just harsh enough to stimulate resistance, but not sufficient to repress it. From time to time,
beggars and petty thieves were rounded up in large numbers, but there were not jails and
galleys enough to hold them. Increasingly, soldiers whose families were themselves suffering
refused to act against the people. As food prices surged in 1789, these various insurrections
suddenly exploded into revolution.7
There were no fewer than four French Revolutions in 1789: a continuing aristocratic
revolt against royal ministers; a bourgeois revolution against the aristocracy, a rising of urban
workers against the high bourgeoisie, and a peasant insurrection against all of their oppressors.
Each of these movements was set in motion by rising prices. All were responses to the fiscal
and economic crisis of the 1780s.
In Paris, urban workers began their revolution by attacking the barrières where internal
customs were levied on food coming to the city. They went on to ransack the monastery of St.
Lazere, not in an orgy of anti-clericalism but in search of something to eat. A vast hoard of
food was found in the cellars. Then they turned their wrath against that hated symbol of
injustice, the Bastille. Historians Ernest Labrousse and Georges Lefebvre discovered that the
Bastille was attacked on precisely the same day when grain prices reached their cyclical high
in Paris. The men who assaulted the Bastille were not the canaille of the city. The great
majority were artisans, masters, journeymen, and shopkeepers who were driven to desperate
acts by the high cost of living, and by their rage against a government that had turned away
from the people.8
At the same time, the peasants’ revolution broke out in the countryside. Complaints
centered on feudal dues, seigneurial ovens, high rents, the hated hunting parties, cruel
moneylenders, the loss of collective rights and the imposition of individual exactions.
Specially resented were unequal taxes that fell heavily upon the poor and rose in proportion to
soaring prices—the taille, champart, gabelle, picquet de farine, and taxes on wine and beer.
Throughout France many vestiges of privilege were attacked, sometimes with great
violence. Chateaux were burned, convents attacked, mills pulled down, warehouses looted.
Archives became a common target. Rent rolls and debt books were systematically destroyed.
The streets of provincial capitals were strewn with official papers.
Figure 3.15 shows the association between prices and revolution in Paris. The sources are
George Rudé, “Prices, Wages and Popular Movements in Paris during the French Revolution,”
Economic History Review 2d ser., 6 (1953–54) 246–67; and Georges Lefebvre, “Le
mouvement des prix et les origines de la Revolution française,” Annales Historiques de la
Revolution Française 14 (1937) 289–329.
Figure 3.17 shows the hyperinflations that were caused by the monetary policies of
revolutionary regimes in France and the United States. The price trend in a more stable hard
currency appears in the change in purchasing power of British sterling. Sources for
Continentals are E. James Ferguson, The Power of the Purse: A History of American Public
Finance, 1776–1790 (Chapel Hill, 1961); for Assignats, A. Bailleul, Tableau complet de
valeur des Assignats (Paris, 1797); for British Pounds Sterling, B. R. Mitchell, British
Historical Statistics (Cambridge, 1988).
Those years were a period of war—not the dynastic quarrels of the mid-eighteenth
century, but social upheavals that combined abstract appeals to high principle with savage
violence such as the western world had not experienced since the crisis of the seventeenth
century. Entire populations went to war with one another. In Russia, Canada and the United
States, national capitals were looted and burned. In Spain, atrocities beyond imagining became
commonplace during the Napoleonic Wars. Goya’s drawings captured the horror of war more
powerfully than any western artist had done since Collot in the general crisis of the seventeenth
century.
The effect of war was to deepen the revolutionary crisis. Every age of glory in military
history is an agony for ordinary people. So it was in the time of Napoleon and Nelson. The
worst suffering came during the decade from 1805 to 1815, when after a brief interlude of
peace the great powers went to war once again. Britain’s Royal Navy won mastery of the sea
at Cape Trafalgar (1805), and the imperial army of France gained a hegemony on the European
mainland in the battles of Austerlitz (1805) and Jena (1806).
Thereafter the struggle changed. Two rival nations, each secure in its own sphere, turned
to economic warfare. Britain imposed a vast blockade on Napoleonic Europe, while France
closed the ports of the continent to British commerce. As the great wave approached its
catastrophic climax, the two strongest nations in the western world went systematically about
the business of wrecking each other’s economy. In this consummate act of human folly, markets
were deliberately disrupted throughout western Europe. The price of food in Britain and
France rose to unprecedented heights. Real wages plummeted, and poverty increased so
rapidly that by 1812 more than half of all English families were dependent on some sort of
poor relief.17
The cost of economic warfare was a heavy burden even for noncombatants. The United
States had flourished as a neutral trader from 1793 to 1805. Now its ships were seized by both
Britain and France. The carrying trade of New England was destroyed, the staple commerce of
the southern states was disrupted, and the United States was drawn inexorably into the vortex
of war. Its economy slipped into a deep depression and yet prices soared, reaching their peak
in the 1814 when commerce was at its lowest ebb. Massive surges occurred in the price of
food and energy.18
But the worst suffering was in the old world. In 1812 Napoleon recruited a huge army
from his European dominions and sent it headlong to destruction in Russia. At the same time,
the Peninsular War between Britain and France reached its climax of barbaric violence. Yet
another war broke between the United States and Britain. Institutions everywhere were
strained to the snapping point. The British government came the edge of insolvency in 1812;
the American republic came close to disintegration in 1814. Finally it was the Napoleonic
Empire that collapsed in bloody ruins.
This general crisis, like those that had preceded it, was also an intellectual event. The
certainties of the Enlightenment were destroyed by the disorders that overtook the Western
world. Confidence in reason and progress was lost. Their apostles became martyrs.
A case in point was the career of the Marquis de Condorcet, a kind, gentle, and highly
principled gentleman-philosopher who embraced the Enlightenment, welcomed the Revolution,
and became an early convert to its humanitarian ideals. He voted against the execution of Louis
XVI and opposed the arrest of the Girondins. For those acts of humanity he was denounced as a
traitor and driven into hiding, where as a fugitive he wrote an astonishing book called A
History of the Progress of the Human Spirit. Pursued by the Jacobins, he lived like an animal
in woods and abandoned quarries. Finally, he was caught by the peasants whose cause he had
championed. Thrown into prison, abandoned by his friends, bleeding and in rags, this great
apostle of progress took his own life on April 8, 1794.
The melancholy fate of Condorcet was shared by the Enlightenment that he personified.
The Revolution devoured not only its children but also its intellectual parents. During the
period from 1790 to 1815, the dream of reason evaporated in the fires of war, and another
mood began to dominate the intellectual life of the West. Its vehicle was the complex cultural
ideology called romanticism, which had long been gestating in eighteenth century Europe.
During the period from 1800 to 1815, romanticism rapidly gained strength and power, and
became the dominant aesthetic movement in the western world.
Romanticism was most of all a new epistemology. It valued feeling above reason,
intuition above empiricism, and ambiguity above clarity. It tended to look backward to the past
rather than forward to the future. It had little faith in reason or hope for human progress. In
Europe it often expressed a mood of melancholy, drifting even to despair. Romanticism was
Goethe’s sorrowful Young Werther, and the literature of Sturm und Drang. It was Stendhal’s
tragic vision of society, and Wordsworth’s great escape into the company of clouds and
daffodils. In America it was Poe’s tale of Gothic horror, Hawthorne’s scarlet letter, and
Melville’s Captain Ahab. In England it was Byron’s Manfred and Childe Harold, hero-
symbols of alienation from society and even from one’s self. The general crisis became a
cultural revolution that transformed the values of the western world.
The great wave reached its crest and broke with shattering violence during the
Napoleonic Wars (1796–1815). With uncanny precision, prices reached their peak in each
nation during the moment of its greatest military peril—Germany in 1808, Russia in 1812,
Britain in 1812–13, the United States in 1814. The battles of Leipzig and Waterloo, Baltimore
and New Orleans proved to be pivotal for the history of prices, as they were for politics and
war.
Thereafter, the secular trend suddenly broke and prices began to fall. This transition was
not a clean and simple break. The new trend had barely begun when its progress was suddenly
interrupted by one of the most severe moments of climate-stress in modern history. The years
from 1814 to 1818 were marked by extremely harsh winters and cold wet summers. The worst
came in 1816. In Europe, the summer of that year was cold, dark, wet and gloomy. A party of
literati spent their ruined Swiss vacation indoors, writing horror fantasies that captured the
prevailing mood. Mary Shelley invented Frankenstein and Lord Byron’s physician Dr.
Polidori created The Vampyre. In the northern United States, 1816 was the “year without a
summer.” Killing frosts occurred in every month, and crops were widely ruined. In Ohio
folklore 1816 was called “eighteen-hundred-and-froze-to death.” New England remembered it
as the Mackerel Year.
Crop shortages were more severe in 1816–17 than in 1788, and food prices surged to
high levels. But the cultural consequences were different than before. Grain poured into
western Europe—Ukrainian grain from the new port of Odessa, American grain from
Baltimore, Egyptian grain from Alexandria, Turkish grain from Constantinople. The growing
integration of a global food market saved Europe from starvation.
Governments had become more efficient in providing social welfare. As a consequence
the poor did not starve in a period of scarcity. Mortality increased very little. In New England,
the death rate actually declined during the coldest years.
The new nation-states had also learned from hard experience how to control social
violence before it reached the flashpoint of revolution. Standing armies, national guards, and
new professional police forces throughout the western world prevented popular insurrections
and food riots from overturning governments. The crisis of 1816 passed without major
unrest.19
After 1816 the weather improved, but the western world suffered yet another heavy blow.
In the United States, a commercial panic began in 1819, and grew into a full-scale depression.
Prices plummeted, pauperism increased, and unemployment became a more serious social
problem than it ever been before. Once again, the new charitable organizations prevented
starvation, and professional peacekeepers preserved order.
Full economic recovery did not occur until the 1820s, a decade after Waterloo and half a
century after revolutions had shattered the old regimes of many western nations. Only then did
the crisis come to an end. A new equilibrium at last emerged.
The equilibrium of the Victorian era was highly complex in its dynamics. Its underlying
stability increased the visibility of many cyclical rhythms. There were harvest cycles in farm
prices, inventory cycles in manufactures, and commercial cycles of many different lengths.
There were diurnal cycles, weekly cycles, seasonal cycles, annual cycles, generational cycles
and perhaps a fifty-year cycle. Many of these vibrations were highly regular in their complex
cadence. As the equilibrium continued, the amplitudes of short-cycle movements (harvest
fluctuations in particular) tended to diminish through time. This dampening process was typical
of price equilibria in general, and very different from the expanding amplitudes that developed
in price-revolutions.6
Prices of specific commodities varied through space as well as time, but here again the
variance tended to be highly stable and regular in its patterns. The price of grain was
comparatively high in the urban-industrial heartland of western Europe and also in the more
densely settled parts of the eastern United States. It was lower in central Europe and American
midlands, and lowest in eastern Russia and the American West. This classic ring-pattern
persisted through the nineteenth century, but differences between core and peripheral prices
tended to diminish as world grain markets became more integrated.7
Figure 3.19 surveys wholesale prices in Germany (1913=100), France (1901–10=100), and
the U.S.A. (1910–14=100). The pattern was similar in all three nations: stable or declining
prices from 1820 to 1896, punctuated by short surges of inflation (mostly war-related) that
disrupted the prevailing equilibrium only for a few years. The sources are A. Jacobs and H.
Richter, Die Grosshandelpreise in Deutschland von 1792 bis 1934 (Berlin, 1935); A.
Chabert, Essai sur les mouvements des prix et des revenus en France de 1798 à 1820 (Paris,
1945); Historical Statistics of the United States (1976) series E40, 52.
Other complex patterns appeared in the relative movement of prices, wages, rent and
interest. While prices fluctuated on the same plane or even declined, real wages rose buoyantly
—as in other periods of equilibrium. By one measure (an index constructed by Henry Phelps-
Brown and Sheila Hopkins), the real wages of English building craftsmen increased more than
400 percent from 1801 to 1899. That comparison overstated the magnitude of change: 1801
was an exceptionally hard year; 1899 was a time of high prosperity. Other benchmarks showed
smaller magnitudes of increase—a doubling of real wages rather than quadrupling. But always
the same upward trend appeared. Both money wages and real wages increased in Britain,
France, Germany, Sweden and every other European nation where data has come to hand. In
this respect the equilibrium of the Victorian era was similar to those of the twelfth century, the
Renaissance and the Enlightenment.8
Figure 3.20 reports evidence of a sustained rise in real wages, which for British builders
trebled during the nineteenth century. The source is E. H. Phelps-Brown and Sheila Hopkins,
“Seven Centuries of the Prices of Consumables, Compared with Builders’ Wage-Rates,”
Economica 23 (1956) 296–315.
Wages also rose in the United States, but the American pattern was less stable than that in
Britain. Real earnings of workers fell sharply during the Civil War, reaching their nineteenth
century nadir in 1866, largely as a consequence of the price inflation in that period. Panics and
depressions in 1873 and 1893 also drove wages down, but these dark intervals were the
exceptions. Long-term improvement was the rule for both highly skilled artisans and farm
laborers.9
These generalizations, it must be emphasized, refer to the income of workers only during
periods of employment. “The great difficulty,” writes Stephan Thernstrom, “lies not in
estimating the daily wage, but in judging how many days each year the laborer was likely to
find work.” He estimated that unskilled laborers in Massachusetts were unemployed two or
three months in every year during the mid-nineteenth century. Whether this proportion
increased or diminished during the course of the nineteenth century we are unable to discover.
Thernstrom believes that it changed little from mid-century to the 1870s, but even a small
alteration would have made a major difference in real income, as distinct from real wages.10
Figure 3.21 finds a long, slow decline in sale prices of English and Welsh real estate from
1812 to 1864, followed by a brief rise from 1864 to 1877. The secular trend in rent was stable
through the nineteenth century. The source is E. M. Carus-Wilson, “A Century of Land Values:
England and Wales,” Essays in Economic History, III, 128–31.
Further, a rise in the cost of labor was not always a return to laborers themselves. An
example was the slave economy of the American South before the Civil War, with its
combination of a free market and unfree labor. The price of slaves in the southern states moved
in parallel with real wages in Europe and the northern States, as it had done in earlier periods.
During the late eighteenth century slave prices had fallen sharply in America, at the same time
that real wages for free workers had been declining rapidly in western Europe. That trend
reversed during the 1790s. Slave prices began to rise from $300 (or less) in 1795 to $1200 in
Virginia and $1800 in New Orleans on the eve of the Civil War.
The increase in slave prices was greater in its magnitude than the rise of real wages for
free labor. Nevertheless, the direction of change was similar in both labor systems. The long
secular rise of slave prices from 1815 to 1860 was not unique to the “peculiar institution” of
the American South, nor was it driven primarily by the economics of slavery itself, as
historians have mistakenly believed. The trend in slave prices was part of a much larger
movement throughout the Western world.11
The Victorian equilibrium was not a golden era of prosperity for everyone. All felt the
bite of hard times some of the time; some suffered all of the time. Grain farmers were in deep
trouble throughout the world after the panic of 1873, with political consequences that included
the Populist movement in the United States, the “revolt of the field” in Britain, and rural unrest
in Europe. But in general real wages rose for most workers.
At the same time that real wages were rising, returns to capital (as measured by rates of
interest) fell steadily during the nineteenth century, as they had done in other periods of price
equilibrium. This trend clearly appeared in the city of London, the epicenter of international
capitalism in the nineteenth century, where bonds were called “stocks,” and stocks were
“shares,” and public securities were “funds.” Their annual performance was carefully
monitored in a publication called Fenn on the Funds, a Victorian equivalent of Moody’s
Manual which showed a striking pattern of stable change for nearly a century.
The most important funds were the “consols” that the United Kingdom had long issued for
its national borrowing. In 1812, when Britain was simultaneously fighting separate wars
against France and the United States, the average yield of Consols rose to 5.08 percent.
Thereafter, the rate of return declined for 85 years, reaching bottom at 2.25 percent in 1897.
This downward trend was not perfectly constant. The Crimean War drove up interest rates and
commercial depressions brought them down again, but through these many fluctuations the
pattern of secular change was stable for a century.12
The same tendency also appeared in the public securities of other western nations. Yields
on French rentes, Dutch perpetuals, Prussian bonds and New England municipals all showed
similar patterns of secular decline. There were a few exceptions. The government of France
had to pay more for its money after its revolutions in 1830, 1848 and 1871. But these fiscal
disturbances were remarkably shallow and short-lived. Even the French government, despite a
persistent reputation for political disorder, was able to meet its public obligations with 3
percent securities during the late nineteenth century.13
Interest rates in private transactions were higher, and also more variable, than those for
public funds. The Bank of England charged its individual customers different rates, after
ranking them on a scale that was more moral than material, from “dealers in greatest
respectability and opulence” to “persons in low estimation.” Each borrower was offered a
discount to match the measure of his depravity. Private debtors of high eminence but dubious
reputation were compelled to pay interest that would shock even a twentieth-century
sensibility. In 1840, Britain’s future prime minister Benjamin Disraeli was charged annual
interest of 40 percent for a loan to cover a “pressing liability.” In general, however, interest
rates tended to decline in private lending as well as public finance during the Victorian
equilibrium. The trend was consistently downward throughout the long equilibrium of
Victorian era.14
Figure 3.22 summarizes evidence of a long decline in rates of interest throughout the western
world from 1820 to 1896. The source is Homer, History of Interest Rates, 196–209.
Returns to land—both rent and real estate prices—also fell, then stabilized and fell again
in the early nineteenth century. A history of land in Saxony-Anhalt showed a very close
correlation between real estate values and the price of rye from 1820 to 1895. Land prices and
rents also moved together in Prussia, England and the United States.15
These trends were full of trouble for rural estate-owners, and in time their tribulations
would be visited upon the world. The landowning classes faced falling rents, rising wages and
depressed agricultural prices all at the same time. England’s county families, Prussian Junkers
and southern planters in the United States all shared that same predicament. These landholders
traced their descent (in spiritual terms at least) from Europe’s old feudal elites, and raised
their sons to a warrior ethic. As the pax victoriana wore on, more than a few of these
energetic young men were bankrupt, bored, and bloody-minded—a dangerous combination.
Some sought adventure overseas in “splendid little wars” and distant conquests; the British
Empire has been called a system of outdoor relief for the upper classes. Others pursued
politics and diplomacy as an equivalent of war, which was still more menacing to world peace
—all the more so when the horrors of the last great European slaughter were forgotten, or half-
remembered in a haze of glory. In the sunny afternoon of the Victorian era, the dark clouds
began to gather on the distant horizon.
Altogether, the relative returns to land, labor, and capital were much the same in the
Victorian equilibrium as they had been during the Renaissance and Enlightenment. They were
also similar in their social results. In the middle and later stages of every price equilibrium
(but not in the early stages), the distribution of wealth tended to stabilize, or even to become a
little more equal. There was a lag-effect here. In the early nineteenth century, inequality
continued to increase, as it had done during the later stages of the price-revolution of the
eighteenth century. But after 1850 wealth and income tended to become more equal in their
distribution or to remain on the same plane of inequality. This tendency appeared in the later
stages of all other equilibria, and the lag pattern was always the same.
Figure 3.23 shows stability in wealth and income distribution during the nineteenth century in
Britain and the United States. This was the net effect of stable rents, falling returns to capital
and rising real wages. Sources include Lee Soltow, “Long-Run Changes in British Income
Inequality,” Economic History Review, 21 (1968) 17–29; Peter Lindert and Jeffrey
Williamson, “Revising England’s Social Tables,” EEH, 19 (1982) 385–408; Charles
Feinstein, “The Rise and Fall of the Williamson Curve,” Journal of Economic History, 48
(1988) 699–729; R. V. Jackson, “Inequality of Incomes and Lifespans in England since 1688,”
Economic History Review, 47 (1994) 508–24; Lee Soltow, Men and Wealth in the United
States, 1850–1870 (New Haven, 1975); idem, Patterns of Wealthholding in Wisconsin since
1850 (Madison, 1971); Roger Ransom and Richard Sutch, One Kind of Freedom (Cambridge,
1977); Jonathan M. Wiener, Social Origins of the New South: Alabama, 1860–1885 (Baton
Rouge, 1978).
In other respects, however, the Victorian era was unique. It was more dynamic in its
structure than any comparable period. During the equilibria of the Renaissance and the
Enlightenment, population had increased very little. A balance was achieved between low
rates of economic development and a lower pace of demographic growth. This was not the
case in the Victorian era. In Europe, America, and throughout the world, population grew at an
exponential rate through the nineteenth century. Rapid population rises had often occurred
before— always with the same inflationary effect upon price levels. As Labrousse wrote, an
inflation des hommes had been accompanied by inflation d’argent and inflation des prix as
well.
In the nineteenth century something else happened. Population went on increasing, and
prices fluctuated on the same plateau. English historians Anthony Wrigley and Roger Schofield
write, “If there was a notable uniformity in the behavior of the two series relative to each other
until the beginning of the nineteenth century, however, there was a remarkably clean break with
the past thereafter. . . . The historic link between population growth and price rise was broken;
an economic revolution had taken place.”16
Wrigley and Schofield were right in one way, but wrong in another. It is true that a simple,
surface correlation between prices and population disappeared, just as they said. But the link
was not broken altogether. A deeper association persisted in the second derivative of change.
The rhythm of change in rates of population increase during the nineteenth century continued to
correlate very closely with price movements. The Victorian equilibrium was indeed something
new in the world—a dynamic balance between rates of change in rates of change.
The Victorian equilibrium also derived its stability from magnitudes of change in
economic growth. Real output (per capita) of the American economy, for example, had grown
only about 0.6 percent each year before 1790. After 1825, it grew at a rate of approximately
1.6 percent a year—enough to double national product per capita every forty-three years. This
rate was maintained throughout the nineteenth century. Similar trends (with differences of
timing) occurred in European nations.17
Figure 3.24 compares price movements with rates of population growth in Britain. Both series
are decennial means of annual data. Sources include E. A. Wrigley and Roger S. Schofield et
al., The Population History of England, 1541–1871: A Reconstruction (Cambridge, 1981),
table A3, column 3 (estimated values of compound annual growth rates); and Henry Phelps-
Brown and Sheila V. Hopkins, A Perspective of Wages and Prices (New York, 1981).
Figure 3.25 makes a different comparison between price levels and absolute magnitudes of
population size. Wrigley and Schofield found that between 1811 and 1871 English population
doubled while prices fell. They concluded that “the historic link between population growth
and price rise was broken; an economic revolution had taken place” (pp. 403–4). This
statement is correct in its own terms, but if one compares rates of growth rather than
magnitudes of change, a strong link between the dynamics of demographic and economic
change continued through the 19th century. An economic revolution had indeed taken place, but
the association between population growth and price movements remained very important.
Equilibrium at higher levels of economic growth was achieved in many ways. A
revolution in transportation created broader markets, which allowed larger units of production.
An agricultural revolution released many workers from the soil and allowed them to shift to
other sectors where their labor was more productive. An industrial revolution increased the
productivity of labor and capital. A commercial revolution radically improved the efficiency
of exchange.
Other factors included the emigration of Europeans in large numbers to other parts of the
world where the marginal return on their labor and capital was higher than at home. Also
important was the economic development of new regions which produced commodities in
unprecedented quantity: Mississippi cotton, Argentine beef, Australian wheat, New Zealand
mutton, African ore and Canadian timber. Perhaps the most important factor was the integration
of a world market through the nineteenth century, which created vast economies of scale.
The Victorian equilibrium was a great whirring machine with many moving parts. It did
not always run smoothly. The economy of the western world moved through alternating periods
of prosperity and depression, but even these disturbances were remarkable for their regularity.
In the United States, major panics and depressions tended to recur at twenty-year intervals:
1819, 1837, 1857, 1873, 1893. The rhythm of these economic fluctuations remained
remarkably stable for nearly a century.
Far from disturbing the Victorian equilibrium in any fundamental way, this pattern was
part of the process by which the balance was maintained. In an era of equilibrium, the market
operated as a self-correcting mechanism—a process that prompted contemporary observers
such as John Stuart Mill (1806–73) and Alfred Marshall (1842–1924) to develop the timeless
axioms of classical economics.
But the conditions that inspired them were not eternal. They did not operate in the same
way before 1815 or after 1896, or in any other period of modern history. The dynamic stability
of the Victorian equilibrium was unique. It was maintained by an unprecedented set of balances
between rapid population growth and even more rapid economic growth, between industrial
transformation and agricultural revolution, between massive international migration and still
more massive domestic movements, between overseas development and commercial
integration of a world economy.18
A few economists have attempted to explain the Victorian equilibrium primarily in
monetarist terms. Monetary factors did indeed have an impact on prices throughout the period,
but they did not create the equilibrium itself. In the United States, for example, annual
fluctuations in price levels and the money supply (that is, specie, banknotes and bank deposits)
tended to correlate closely, and were much the same in timing. But magnitudes and secular
trends were very different. Large changes in the supply of money caused price movements that
were comparatively small, by the measure of other periods. Money supply in the United States
increased enormously during the 1820s and 1830s, more than trebling in a period of fifteen
years, according to estimates by Peter Temin. But price levels remained remarkably stable,
rising and falling only about 15 percent in that same period. A similar pattern also appeared
during the 1840s and 1850s, when large swings in the supply of money coincided with very
small movements in price levels. Clearly a close relationship existed between the quantity of
money and the level of prices in the American economy. All things being equal, that
relationship was strong and intimate, but ceteris non paribus is the iron law of economic
history.19
In this age of equilibrium, monetary and demographic factors might be understood as
strong centrifugal forces, acting to pull prices off their stable base. Those elements were
balanced by equally strong centripetal forces of expanding production and exchange, which
drew them in again. The dynamic equilibrium of the nineteenth century might be envisioned as
a Tenniel engraving of a tug-of-war between two teams of muscular Victorian athletes, each of
approximately equal strength. On one side were the wiry Centrifugals, with currency symbols
embroidered on their old school caps. On the other side were the brawny Centripetals,
straining mightily in the opposite direction. With much tumult and shouting, the rope moved
slightly one way and then the other, but the white rag remained in the middle until 1896, when
the exhausted Centripetals collapsed in a heap.
The dynamic equilibrium of the Victorian era was not entirely self-generating. It found
support from exogenous factors of various kinds—in particular from favorable climatic
conditions. After a period of very nasty weather which historians call the “little ice age,” the
climate of western Europe and North America grew warmer through much of the nineteenth
century. English meteorologist H. H. Lamb observes that “the price rise around 1800 could be
attributable largely to the interference of the Napoleonic wars with supplies and with trade, but
the time does coincide with the latest of the great periods of advance of the glaciers and the
Arctic Sea ice about Iceland.” There were no major climatic anomalies in the next century of
remotely comparable magnitude. The amelioration of climate may have made a difference in
price levels, but it was not a major factor. Long changes in climate do not correlate with long
waves in the history of prices.20
Figure 3.26 compares monetary estimates from Peter Temin, The Jacksonian Economy (New
York, 1969), 71, 159; and price indices from Historical Statistics of the U. S., E52, E135.
Figure 3.27 surveys world stocks of gold and silver, which rapidly increased during the
nineteenth century, while prices remained stable or declined. The source is Pierre Vilar, A
History of Gold and Money, 1450–1520 (London, 1984), 352.
Whatever the cause of the Victorian equilibrium may have been, its consequences were
abundantly clear. A period of comparative poitical stability developed in Europe. The century
from 1815 to 1914 was one of the few periods in that continent’s long and bloody history when
there was no general war. The only exception was the Crimean War, which was kept securely
in bounds. The nineteenth century was an era of many smaller wars, some of which were very
costly in life and treasure. There were wars of national integration such as the Prussian wars
against Denmark, Austria and France, the American Civil War, and the conflicts of the Italian
Risorgimento. Small imperialist wars were also very numerous. In the reign of Queen Victoria,
the British army fought six Ashanti wars, five Basuto wars, three Afghan wars, three Burmese
wars, two Maori wars, two Matabele wars, two Boer Wars, two Sikh wars, two Sudanese
wars, and altogether 230 colonial wars, punitive expeditions, and insurrections.21
Figure 3.28 finds falling arrest rates in Chicago, falling crime rates in Stockholm, and falling
conviction rates in London (five-year moving average of convictions in Middlesex County,
1834 58, and the Metropolitan Police District, 1869–1900). Sources include Ted Robert Gurr,
Rogues, Rebels, and Reformers: A Political History of Urban Crime and Conflict (Beverly
Hills and London, 1976), 38–40, 63; Wesley G. Skogan, Chicago since 1840: A Time-Series
Data Handbook (Urbana, 1975); Theodore N. Ferdinand, “The Criminal Patterns of Boston
since 1849 ,” American Journal of Sociology 73 (1967) 688–98, and Gurr, 39–46.
Figure 3.29 shows that rates of illegitimacy declined in close association with the price of
wheat during the nineteenth century. This long trend followed an earlier rise in bastardy during
the price revolution of the eighteenth century, and preceded another sustained increase in the
price revolution of the twentieth century. Plotted here are decennial ratios of illegitimate births
per 100 live births in England and Wales (civil registration), compared with the Abel index of
English wheat prices (decennial averages in grams of pure silver per 100 kilograms of grain).
Sources include Peter Laslett, Karla Oosterveen and Richard M. Smith, eds., Bastardy and Its
Comparative History (Cambridge, 1980), 17; and Wilhelm Abel, Agrarkrisen und
Agrarkonjunktur, appendix.
Figure 3.30 shows the sustained decline of alcohol consumption in the United States during the
nineteenth century. Estimates include spirits, wine, and beer, converted to ethanol equivalents.
Beer includes hard cider, the leading alcoholic beverage in early America. The source is
Merton M. Hyman, et al., Drink, Drinking, and Alcohol Related Mortality . . .(New
Brunswick, 1980) Many other studies have replicated these findings.
The economic effect of these conflicts was to integrate an ever larger proportion of the
world’s population into national and even global markets, and monetary systems. Many
scholars have written about the effect of European contact on primitive monetary systems that
Europeans called “pseudo-money.” French historian Fernand Braudel observes, “The fate of
this pseudo-money after the European impact (whether cowries in Bengal, wampum after 1670
or the Congo zimbos) proves identical in every case where it can be investigated— monstrous
and catastrophic inflation, caused by an increase in reserves, an accelerated and even hectic
circulation, and a concomitant devaluation in relation to the dominant European money.”22
But economic chaos was merely the first effect. The second result was economic order.
Local markets were incorporated in a larger system, where price movements became
progressively more stable. The price equilibrium of the Victorian era promoted political
stabilization and integration, which further increased price equilibrium, which in turn brought
more stability and integration.
The effect of price equilibrium upon society was also to promote another sort of social
integration. This was a period when crime declined throughout the western world, after a
period of sharp increase in the crisis of the eighteenth century. In London, Bombay, and even in
Chicago life became more orderly during the Victorian era. Indicators of social deviance and
family disruption also declined: alcohol consumption fell sharply; so also did rates of
prenuptial pregnancy and sexual deviance. All had risen during the eighteenth century.
The most important cultural correlate of the Victorian equilibrium was what Walter
Houghton calls the Victorian frame of mind. Houghton (not the best guide on this question, for
he went to excessive lengths to stress similarities between the Victorians and ourselves)
defined the Victorian mind-frame in terms of optimism, anxiety, the will to believe, dogmatism,
rigidity, the commercial spirit, earnestness, enthusiasm, hero worship, love and hypocrisy.
Different words appear in other lists—liberalism, improvement, confidence, strength, faith and
certainty.
Historian G. M. Young approached the subject in a different way. He organized the
Victorian era into a chronology of thinkers, arranged by the year in which they reached the age
of 35. This list of “floruits” began in the year 1830 with Arnold and Carlyle. It ended in 1901–
2 with Wells, Galsworthy, and Stanley Baldwin. It is a list of high complexity, and cannot be
encompassed by unitary generalizations. But in the phrase of one eminent Victorian, F. W.
Maitland, there is in every era a “common thought of common things.” On this level, which the
Victorians themselves called their zeitgeist, we may find elements of cultural unity.23
In the Victorian era, as in the Enlightenment and the Renaissance, creative thinkers in
many fields drew their conceptual models from their historical condition. Similar textures of
thought appeared in the biology of Darwin (1809–82), the geology of Charles Lyell (1797–
1875), the historiography of Leopold von Ranke (1795–1886), the economics of Karl Marx
(1818–83), the politics of William Ewart Gladstone (1809–98) and the statecraft of Abraham
Lincoln (1809–65).
However different their ideologies may have been, these Victorians all thought of the
world in dynamic terms as a process rather than a static state. All of them understood that
world-process as a sequence of conflicts which were progressive, coherent, self-regulating
and self-sustaining. The Darwinian principle of natural selection, the Rankean idea of
historicism, the Marxian model of dialectical materialism, the Lyellian concept of geologic
stratiology, the Lincolnian creed of liberal conservatism and the Gladstonian ideology of
conservative liberalism shared those qualities in common.
These large ideas resembled the Victorian equilibrium itself, which was a dynamic,
progressive, self-balancing and self-sustaining structure of countervailing forces. Most of these
thinkers (with a few exceptions such as Lincoln) also shared a spirit that H. G. Wells called
“optimistic fatalism.” This, too, was an expression of the Victorian equilbrium, and an
instrument by which it was maintained.
THE FOURTH WAVE
The Price Revolution of the Twentieth Century
LONDON, June 22, 1897, Diamond Jubilee Day. The rain-washed streets of this proud
imperial city sparkled in the summer sun, as the people of Britain prepared to celebrate the
sixtieth anniversary of Queen Victoria’s accession to the throne. At precisely eleven o’clock in
the morning, the Queen repaired to her Royal Message Room in Buckingham Palace and sent a
telegram of congratulations to her subjects throughout the world—370 million of them. Then
she put on an ostrich-feathered bonnet, unfurled a small parasol of white silk, and traveled in
an open carriage to St. Paul’s Cathedral. Her escort included 50,000 troops in brilliant uniform
from every part of the Empire. Above the rooftops of the city, thousands of Union Jacks flew in
the summer breeze. In the narrow streets happy crowds doffed caps, waved white
handkerchiefs, and cheered their aged Queen.
In many ways, the London that Queen Victoria looked upon that morning still seems remarkably
the same today. Buckingham Palace and the great Cathedral of St. Paul are outwardly the same,
despite the depredations of the Luftwaffe and the London smog. The red coats of the Queen’s
Brigade of Guards, and the scarlet tunics of their officers, are still the same—and so are the
class-distinctions that those subtle shadings represent. The Household Cavalry in their
gleaming cuirasses and high flowing plumes still look and sound the same as they clatter down
the Mall on jet-black horses. The Royal Horse Artillery still dress in the same dark blue shell
jackets and red busby bags on state occasions, as when they saluted their Queen-Empress on
her anniversary a century ago.
But these superficial resemblances are apt to be deceiving. The city of London today is far
removed in time and mood and social circumstance from the metropolis that celebrated Queen
Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee on June 22, 1897. The most profound differences are not to be
found in the many material transformations: not in the swarms of small cars that choke the
narrow streets of the City, or the hideous modern buildings that sprout like concrete weeds in
Mayfair, or the shoals of tourists in shorts and tee-shirts at Piccadilly, or the muffled Arab
women in Rolls Royces, parked three deep outside the shops of Knightsbridge.
London is more profoundly different in less tangible ways—most of all, in its memories of the
past and its expectations for the future. In 1897, nearly all of its inhabitants had lived their
entire lives in an era of stability and comparative peace. No general war had marred the peace
of Europe since 1815, except the brief unpleasantness in the Crimea. Every ten or twenty years
the British economy had drifted into a commercial depression, but prosperity had rapidly
returned. Real wages had risen for nearly a century, and prices had remained remarkably stable
for many years. The purchasing power of the pound sterling was actually greater on Diamond
Jubilee Day than it had been in 1819, when the old Queen was born. In 1897, a gilt-edged
government security paid a steady 2 percent, which was thought to be an entirely reasonable
return on capital. Inflation was regarded as a distant horror that was visited upon less
deserving nations as divine punishment for their economic sins.
On Diamond Jubilee Day in 1897, eminent Victorians contemplated the future with the same
confidence that marked their memories of the past. Peace, progress, and stability were thought
to be natural and normal in the world. They were firmly expected to continue.
But it was not to be. The Victorian certainties that London celebrated on Diamond Jubilee Day
had already begun to be left behind by events. When we look back on the economic indicators
for the year 1897, they reveal to us in retrospect a pattern that was still mercifully invisible to
those whose lives it would transform. Beneath the surface of events, the equilibrium of the
Victorian era had come quietly to an end. On the day that the Queen and her subjects
commemorated sixty years of stability and peace, a deep change was silently occurring in the
structure of change itself. That sunny June morning in 1897, the Western world was entering a
new era, which would be filled with horrors that the Victorians could scarcely have imagined,
much less foretold. This new epoch has continued to our own time. One of its many material
manifestations was a long movement that might be called the price-revolution of the twentieth
century.
In the year 1896, wholesale commodity prices in Britain and the United States reached their
lowest level in more than a century. Then, during the year of the Diamond Jubilee, they began
to rise a little—not very much, not enough for anyone to notice. The increase was only about 1
percent that year, smaller than the range of annual fluctuations. But we may observe a large
significance in that small advance. It marked the beginning of a price-revolution that would
continue for more than a century.1
Students of American history will observe an irony in the timing of this event. It began
immediately after the presidential election of 1896. The major issues in that campaign were
low prices and scarce money. The cost of living in the United States had shown no long-term
secular increase since 1814. Commodity prices had actually fallen after 1870. It is not easy for
us, the children of a long inflation, to understand that our ancestors in the 1890s felt as deeply
threatened by falling prices as we have been by rising ones.
The American presidential election of 1896 centered on that economic problem. Democratic
candidate William Jennings Bryan terrified the possessing classes by proposing a bimetallic
monetary standard, and “free and unlimited” coinage of silver, mainly to encourage higher farm
prices and wages. Republican nominee William McKinley defended the gold standard,
maintained a moderate position on silver, and pledged to protect the sanctity of property.
McKinley won the election, and the possessing classes breathed a collective sigh of
deliverance.2
Ironically, they did so at the moment when prices began to creep upward. The same inflection-
point simultaneously appeared in the price records of many Western nations: Austria-Hungary
(1896–97), Belgium (1895–96), Britain (1896–97), Germany (1896–97), Italy (1897–98),
Norway (1897–98), Spain (1896–97), Sweden (1895–96) and the United States (1896–97).
Each of these countries had its own monetary system. All of them began to experience the
price-revolution at the same time.3
Figure 4.01 surveys annual price movements in the United States. Sources include Historical
Statistics of the United States (1976), series E23, E135; Statistical Abstract of the United
States (1988), table 735; Statistical Abstract of the United States (1993), tables 756, 764.
Once begun, the new inflation continued at a moderate pace from 1896 to 1914, averaging
between 1 and 2 percent each year. The rate of gain was variable: comparatively small in
Britain and the United States; larger in Spain and Germany. But almost everywhere, the same
upward tendency appeared.
Rising prices were at first welcomed as a timely correction of a recent deflation that had
caused many social problems. During the depression year of 1894, the wholesale price of
wheat in the United States had fallen to fifty-six cents a bushel, the lowest since the eighteenth
century. Rising prices promised relief for farmers, merchants, and manufacturers alike. The
authoritative Financial Review commented, “A retrospect of 1897 is much more pleasing than
was a similar retrospect of 1896. The year was marked by a decisive recovery of business . . .
and at the year’s close we find the outlook more hopeful than for many years past.”4
Figure 4.02 finds that the structure of change in the twentieth century was similar to other price
revolutions, but not entirely the same. As before, magnitudes increased exponentially and the
underlying rate of change remained stable. But this great wave showed less annual variability,
and little expansion of amplitudes. Sources include Historical Statistics of the United States
(1976), series E135; Statistical Abstract of the United States (1988–94). Trend lines are
fitted with an Excel 5.0 program.
The decade that followed, from 1897 to 1907, was marked by the same sense of sustained
prosperity. A few short downturns did not disrupt the prevailing optimism. In the United States,
a “rich man’s panic” in 1903 caused stock prices to drop sharply after the U.S. Steel
Corporation missed a dividend and a merger plan collapsed in the American shipbuilding
industry. But that disturbance was largely limited to Wall Street, and the speed of the recovery
encouraged the general mood of confidence.
A larger panic in 1907 caused a short but very sharp contraction. In the United States,
unemployment surged from 2 to 8 percent in 1908. Producer prices fell a little in America,
Britain, France, and Germany that year. But within a few months prosperity returned. By 1909,
everything was moving up again. Wages were up. Profits were up. Employment was up. Farm
income reached record levels.
At first, the great wave of the twentieth century remained invisible to contemporary observers,
much as every other price-revolution had been. But as early as 1904, the continuing rise of
prices began to be recognized as a secular trend. A few alert contemporaries searched for an
explanation.
Some attributed the increase in price levels to an expansion in the supply of gold and silver. In
1886, the fabulous gold mines of Johannesburg had been discovered, entirely by accident. In
1890, gold was found on Cripple Creek in Colorado; the lucky finder, William Stratton, made a
fortune of $125 million within a few years. Canadian gold began to flow from the Klondike in
1896. The Alaskan gold rush began in 1898. But these events were part of a long continuum of
gold discoveries that had happened through the nineteenth century without raising prices. The
rate of growth in gold production throughout the world was roughly the same before and after
1896. Moreover, the pace of secular increase in silver production actually declined during the
1890s.5
After the fact, another monetarist explanation has been suggested by American economists who
believe that the rise of prices after 1896 was caused by acceleration in the growth of the
money supply within the United States—from 6 percent in the period 1879–97, to 7.5 percent
in the years 1897–1914. That idea is mistaken. Another economist, Arthur Lewis, has
demonstrated that the estimates on which it rests are an artifact of periodization—that is, on the
choice of years that frame the temporal generalization. Annual fluctuations were large enough
to make a major difference in that respect. Lewis finds that the growth of money (and national
product) in the United States occurred at virtually the same pace, before and after 1896.
Further, an expansion in the American money supply alone could not have set the price-
revolution in motion. This was an international event. Prices began to rise simultaneously in
most currencies and monetary systems throughout the world.6
Figure 4.03 surveys wholesale prices in nine nations from 1890 to 1914. Most show similar
trends: stasis or decline in the last years of the Victorian equilibrium, a turning point circa
1896, and sustained increase (circa 1896–1914). These common trends marked the beginning
of the price revolution of the twentieth century. The data are from B. R. Mitchell, European
Historical Statistics (2d rev. ed., New York, 1981), 772–75. All are converted to a common
base (1890=100).
Figure 4.04 compares wholesale prices (1910–14=100) with the supply of currency held by
the public (in billions of dollars) in the United States. It shows strong similarities in the timing
of short-term fluctuations: prices and currency all rose in the boom of the 1880s and declined
in the panic and depression of 1893. But differences appeared in the direction of secular
trends. Patterns of growth in the money supply were similar before and after the depression of
1893, while price movements were fundamentally transformed from a deflationary to an
inflationary trend. The source is Historical Statistics of the United States (1976), E40, E52,
E410, X417.
Monetary factors would play a major role in the price-revolution of the twentieth century, but
the great wave itself grew mainly from a different root. It was primarily (not exclusively) the
result of excess demand, generated by accelerating growth of the world’s population, by rising
standards of living, and by limits on the supply of resources, all within an increasingly
integrated global economy.
The accelerating growth of world population was a driving force in the price-revolution of the
twentieth century. After 1890, death rates began to decline rapidly, with the conquest of major
epidemic diseases such as tuberculosis, typhoid, typhus, diphtheria and malaria. These events
derived from the discoveries of German bacteriologist Robert Koch between 1876 and 1890,
and from a “public health revolution,” that spread swiftly throughout the world.
Fertility declined in western Europe and North America, but rose higher in most other parts of
the world. As a result, the growth of global population began to accelerate. Its annual rate of
increase in the early twentieth century (1900–1950) was nearly double what it had been in the
late nineteenth century (1850–1900).7
Economic production and productivity also rose after 1896, but so did living standards and
cultural expectations. The major European nations were rapidly becoming industrial
democracies. Men of all classes received the right to vote in unprecedented numbers. Women
began to be enfranchised, first on the national level in New Zealand (1893), then in other
nations. These new electors demanded that governments serve the interest of the many, not
merely the few. National legislatures enacted far-reaching systems of social welfare, health
care, old age security, mass education, and unemployment insurance. The effect of these
innovations was to increase aggregate demand.
Through the twentieth century, there was also a continuing revolution in material expectations
among people of every social class—a cultural event that added to the growing pressure of
demand on limited resources. The Canadian economist John Kenneth Galbraith wrote, “Even
in the United States there is now a persistent feeling . . . that the poor should have access to a
doctor. . . . The economic effect of this release of consumption from occupational and class
restraint is to put a strong, even relentless, pressure on the supply of both private and public
goods and services.”8
Figure 4.05 compares consumer prices in the United States with the growth of world
population. Sources include McEvedy and Jones, Atlas of World Population History, 343;
Statistical Abstract of the U.S. (1993), table 1372; United Nations Demographic Yearbook
(1993); A. M. Carr-Saunders, World Population (Oxford, 1936); consumer prices (1967=100)
are from Historical Statistics of the United States (1976) ser. E135; Statistical Abstract of
the U.S. (1993), table 756.
At the same time that demographic and social pressures of that sort were building throughout
the world, the supply of what Frederick Jackson Turner called “free land” was beginning to be
exhausted. In 1890, after a survey of population was completed in the United States, the
superintendent of the census reported that the American frontier was closed.
In the 1890s, frontiers were closing in many parts of the world. The expansion of Europe was
beginning to meet its natural limits. Russia had largely completed the conquest of its built-in
Asian empire. India and its border states to the north and east had been brought under the
British Raj. The island-spoils of Oceania had been divided among the great powers. The
European “scramble” for Africa was largely completed by 1896. The Australian outback, New
Zealand sheep runs, Argentine pampas and North American prairies all had been converted to
the production of meat and grain for the world market. The continuing incorporation of these
areas into the Western economy had been the dynamic basis of the Victorian equilibrium. By
the late 1890s, that great process was largely completed, and world population was
multiplying more rapidly than ever.
Late in the nineteenth century, the nations of the world were also becoming integrated in a
single economy at a rapid and accelerating rate. That process had begun as early as the
fifteenth century, but a quantum leap occurred in the late nineteenth century, when, as Geoffrey
Barraclough has demonstrated, the flow of goods from one nation to another suddenly and
greatly expanded. The first effect of this integration had been to stimulate supply; the second
was to increase aggregate demand.9
The price-revolution of the twentieth century was not peculiar to any national economy or
monetary system. It was a global event. Like every great wave that preceded it, this great
movement began primarily because the acceleration of demand outstripped the increase of
supply.
In other ways, however, the price-revolution of the twentieth century was different from its
predecessors. In its early and middle stages real wages increased, and kept on increasing until
the late 1960s. This pattern was differed from other price-revolutions. In the twentieth century,
the role of trade unions, democratic politics, and welfare states had a major impact on returns
to labor.
At the same time, the distribution of income and wealth tended in general to become a little
more equal, especially in the period from the 1920s to the 1950s. This equalizing tendency had
also appeared in the first stages of other price-revolutions. In the twentieth century, however, it
continued for a longer period than before.
Figure 4.06 summarizes nine studies of the distribution of wealth and income in the United
States. Most show mixed trends from 1890 to 1929, then growing equality from 1929 to 1968,
and growing inequality thereafter (see figure 4.23). Sources: Lee Soltow, Men and Wealth in
the United States, 1850–1870 (New Haven, 1975); Robert E. Lipsey and Helen Stone Tice,
eds., The Measurement of Saving, Investment, and Wealth (Chicago, 1989), 765–844; Lee
Soltow, “Distribution of Income and Wealth,” in Glenn Porter, ed., Encyclopedia of American
Economic History (3 vols., New York, 1980) I, 1116; Historical Statistics of the United
States (1976), series G319–36; Statistical Abstract of the United States (1976–1993); Jeffrey
G. Williamson and Peter H. Lindert, American Inequality (New York, 1980).
Figure 4.07 follows the upward movement of money wages and real wages from 1900 to 1960.
In this respect, the price revolution of the twentieth century differed from its predecessors–for
a time. These estimates by Stanley Lebergott include mean annual earnings of all employees in
the United States except members of the armed forces. To correct for unemployment Lebergott
added another series which reduced money wages and real wages by 11 percent in 1900 and
by 7 percent in 1960. The source is Stanley Lebergott, Manpower in Economic Growth: The
American Record since 1800 (New York, 1964).
The great powers were unprepared to bear the heavy cost of war, or to manage its economic
consequences. Each nation responded in its own way. The British government dealt at first
with rising prices and shortages in a traditional Anglo-Saxon way. It asked the clergy to read
proclamations from church pulpits, urging voluntary limits on consumption. Slowly and
reluctantly, Prime Minister David Lloyd George improvised a system of piecemeal price
controls and rationing. He added fiscal and monetary measures that restrained inflation more
effectively than in any other combatant nation.10
In Germany, things were done differently. Effective control of the war economy passed to
military officers under the old Prussian Law of Siege. The entire nation was divided into
“army corps districts.” In each district Deputy Commanding Generals imposed rationing,
allocated goods, and controlled prices. They did so with a heavy hand, and ultimately with
disastrous consequences for their nation. Low farm prices discouraged production. Germany’s
inability to feed itself became a fundamental cause of its defeat. Further, the war was paid for
by huge loans and taxes on the middle and lower classes. The rich were protected from income
and profits taxes.11
In Russia, the economy collapsed totally under the strain of the war. The distribution of food
was so disrupted by 1917 that the army was forced to live off the land, even within its own
country. Major shortages developed in the cities. Prices of food soared. On March 8, 1917,
when hungry mobs attacked bakeries throughout the capital and were fired on by police, the
Russian Revolution began. Like the French Revolution in 1789, the immediate cause was a
combination of high prices and extreme scarcity, which also occurred in many parts of Europe
during World War I.
Even after the fighting ended in 1918, the economic troubles continued. Britain, for example,
imposed milk rationing for the first time in 1919—a step that it had been able to avoid during
the war. In France and many other nations the most rapid inflation occurred not during the war
itself, but in the first years of peace. Germany was reduced to economic chaos after the
armistice. Russia moved from revolution to a bloody civil war. Major outbreaks of epidemic
disease, notably the so-called influenza epidemic of 1918 (probably a polydemic of several
diseases), caused heavy mortality in Europe, America, and especially Asia. High prices and
scarcities persisted.
In 1920, these trend lines broke. A severe economic depression occurred throughout the world.
Prices plummeted in a great deflation that was as disruptive as the previous rise had been.
Commodity markets were glutted. In Britain, wholesale prices fell by half in two years from
1920 to 1922. Wages also came down, and unemployment rose rapidly. Broadly similar
tendencies appeared in the United States and western Europe. Price and wage deflation were
reinforced by the economic policies of conservative governments, and by rigid adherence to
the gold standard. This was a period of deep suffering among the poor, but business conditions
slowly improved, and stock markets began to boom.12
Figure 4.08 shows the impact of World War I on prices. Rates of inflation were highest in the
Central Powers (400–600 percent), and lower in most Allied powers and neutral nations
(200–350 percent). Data are from B. R. Mitchell, European Historical Statistics (2d rev. ed.,
New York, 1981) pp. 774–75. All are wholesale prices, except Austria and Greece which are
consumer prices. Each is converted to a common base (1914=100).
In central Europe, more dangerous trends developed. Germany’s new and very shaky Weimar
Republic inherited a vast burden of debt and the crushing weight of heavy war reparations to
France. When a heroic attempt at tax reform by Matthias Erzberger failed, public credit was
exhausted. The German government felt compelled to pay its debts by printing money. It did so
at first with some restraint in 1921–22, but soon lost control of its currency. The result was one
of the most extreme hyperinflations in history. An American dollar was worth 40 marks in July
1920, 493 marks in July 1922, 4 million marks in the summer of 1923, 4.2 trillion on
November 15, 1923. This became the classic monetary hyperinflation, caused by a vast
expansion in the quantity of currency in circulation. By late 1923, the German government
required 1,783 printing presses, running round the clock, to print money.
Germany was not alone in its travail. Monetary hyperinflation also occurred in Austria (1921–
22), Russia (1921–22), Poland (1923–24), and Hungary (1923–24). Similar causes operated
through much of central and eastern Europe.
These monetary crises were severe, but very short-lived. German inflation was brought to a
sudden end in 1924, and prices were generally stable thereafter. But the experience of
hyperinflation had a shattering effect on an entire German generation. The Weimar Republic
received much of the blame for problems it had inherited, and none of the credit for solving
them. Confidence in open, democratic institutions was weakened fatally in central Europe.
These economic events in the postwar era created profound instabilities. Concentration of
wealth remained very high. In Britain, two-thirds of the national wealth in the 1920s was
owned by 1 percent of the population. One-third was owned by 0.1 per cent. The twenties
were a decade of high prosperity for the rich, and an Indian summer of the old regime. They
were also a time of desperate poverty in Scotland, Appalachia, rural Europe, and urban slums
throughout the world.
Inequality put narrow limits on consumption. In the United States during the late 1920s, major
industries began to suffer from excess capacity and insufficient demand. By 1927, purchases of
houses, cars, and consumer durables were in decline. Commodity prices turned downward.
Industrial production began to fall. In October 1929, the American stock market crashed, and
the world slipped into the Great Depression.
Once again, as in the early 1920s, suffering was deepened by fiscal and monetary policies of
conservative governments. After the Crash, American secretary of the treasury Andrew Mellon
proposed to “liquidate labor, liquidate stock, liquidate the farmers.” Congress gave relief to
the rich by cutting income taxes, but offered little assistance to the poor. The Federal Reserve
Board pursued a policy of tight money that made things worse. The ultimate folly was
President Herbert Hoover’s proposal for a large increase in taxes in 1932. As wages fell and
unemployment surged, wholesale prices fell by a quarter in Britain, by a third in the United
States and Germany, and by half in France.
Figure 4.09 represents on a logarithmic scale the hyperinflations that followed the First World
War in central Europe. Sources include B. R. Mitchell, ed., International Historical
Statistics; Europe, 1750–1988 3rd ed. (New York, 1992), 837–51; Thomas J. Sargent, “The
Ends of Four Big Inflations,” in Robert E. Hall, ed., Inflation: Causes and Effects (Chicago,
1982), 99–110; Gerald D. Feldman, The Great Disorder (New York, 1993). Prices are in
German marks, Polish zlotys, Hungarian krone, Russian rubles, and Austrian krone.
The Western nations responded to the Great Depression in very different ways. The
international gold standard was abandoned by Britain in 1931 and by the United States in
1934. Protectionist walls were raised around national and imperial economies by the
American Smoot-Hawley tariff (1930) and the British Ottawa Agreements (1932).
In the United States, President Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal launched the American republic
on a sea of economic experiments, which included “pump priming” of the private economy by
public spending, tighter regulation of business, and an attempt to diminish material inequalities.
The results were mixed. Production, wages, and prices began to rise after 1933, only to be
driven down again by another sharp recession in 1937–38.
In France, forty governments held office between 1918 and 1939, five in 1933 alone. Politics
were reduced to a chaos of competing factions. In the mid-1930s, French industrial production
fell to its lowest level since 1913. Unemployment surged to painfully high levels. The money
supply was expanded and prices surged, doubling in merely four years from 1935 to 1939.
Italy and Germany took the dark road to fascism, which in economic terms was an unstable
combination of private ownership and public control, feudal fiefdoms and bureaucratic
regulation, national autarchy and international conquest. Fascist economies were stimulated by
public works and military spending, but German prices remained depressed throughout the
1930s. Old economic problems persisted and new ones were added. The economics of
European fascism and Japanese militarism, as well as their ideologies, drove their leaders to
embark upon ever more desperate adventures.
In 1937, Japan went to war against China, mainly to secure markets and resources on the Asian
mainland. Historian R. A. C. Parker observes that “Japanese civilian authorities in Tokyo were
more belligerent than the army.” This was a war of economic ambition; it continued in Asia for
eighteen years. In 1939, Germany attacked Poland, mostly in search of Lebensraum, living
space, which meant land for German farmers and raw materials for German factories.13
From 1939 to 1941, military victory went to armed forces of Germany and Japan, but the
balance of economic power moved in another direction. The beginning of the Second World
War at last brought the great depression to an end. Prices, wages, employment and production
surged throughout the world. The economies of Germany and Japan experienced growth
without development—a vast expansion of resources by conquest and of workers by
enslavement. Their swollen economies became in some ways more primitive than before.
Figure 4.10 shows price movements in eight nations from 1920 to 1945. After the inflation that
followed World War I, prices tended to fall from the early 1920s to the early 1930s. The nadir
was reached in most nations circa 1934. Thereafter, prices resumed their upward climb,
accelerating during World War II (1939–45). Hyperinflation developed in Italy after 1943, and
in many European nations after 1945 (see figure 4.12); but controls were successful in Britain
and the United States. Sources are B. R. Mitchell, European Historical Statistics (2d rev. ed.,
New York, 1981), 778–83; Historical Statistics of the United States (1976), E135.
In the United States, President Franklin Roosevelt assembled a team of exceptionally able
managers who made the American economy into the decisive weapon of the war. Productivity
soared. National product per capita (in constant dollars) nearly doubled in the United States
from 1938 to 1944, the strongest surge of economic growth in modern American history.14
In the United States, a regulatory system that included rationing and price controls worked
remarkably well to stabilize the booming economy. A black market developed for scarce
goods, but most Americans willingly accepted a more highly regulated economy as part of the
war effort. Economists such as John Kenneth Galbraith, who worked for the Office of Price
Administration during the war, always remained more supportive of price controls than
colleagues who had not shared that experience. The contribution of economic regulation in
World War II was both material and moral. It fostered a sense of fairness and justice, and
sustained collective effort in a nation that was united as never before.
Britain also used price controls with high success during World War II. The cost of living in
the United Kingdom rose only about 20 percent from 1939 to 1945, and increased scarcely at
all from 1940 to 1947. The record of the Axis nations was more mixed. In Nazi Germany,
prices were kept very stable, increasing 9 percent from 1939 to 1944. This was done in part by
requiring citizens and corporations to freeze their liquid assets in compulsory savings
accounts, which in turn were confiscated by the state. This plundering of private assets
effectively reduced demand and diminished inflation, but it also contributed to the total
destruction of the German economy. Fascist Italy cheerfully resorted to the printing press, and
suffered severely from an inflation that continued at a rapid rate from 1934 to 1948. Through
much of occupied Europe, prices rose sharply during the war. The Soviet Union also had very
high inflation during World War II; official estimates put the increase of prices at 325 percent.
The true number was probably higher.15
Figure 4.11 shows the impact of price controls in the United States during World War II.
Industrial prices were controlled in 1942; farm prices, in 1943. Controls were removed in
1946. The source is Historical Statistics of the United States (1976) E23–25.
After the war, many European nations suffered severe hyperinflations, similar to the aftermath
of World War I. The worst problems were in eastern and southern Europe, during the years
from 1947 to 1949.
In the United States, price controls were removed in 1945. What followed was similar in some
respects to the period after World War I. In the immediate postwar years, inflation increased to
double-digit levels—high by the measure of the American experience, but low by comparison
with contemporary trends in Europe. Wholesale commodity prices rose 14 per cent in 1946,
and 23 per cent in 1947.
Then the American economy slipped into a short recession. National income declined, rates of
unemployment increased, and in 1949 consumer prices actually fell. The decline was small
and shortlived: less than 1 percent, in little more than one year. Underlying inflationary
pressures were strong. By early 1950, prices were climbing again.
Figure 4.12 shows levels reached by hyperinflations in Europe during 1947–49. The sources
are consumer price indices (1929=100) in B. R. Mitchell, ed., International Historical
Statistics: Europe, 1750–1988 (New York, 1992), 848–49.
Figure 4.13 shows the effect of price controls in controlling inflation in the United States
during the Korean War. When the war began in 1950, wholesale prices and consumer prices
surged to double-digit levels. Controls were imposed in 1951–53. Prices immediately
stabilized and did not increase when controls were lifted. The source is Historical Statistics
of the United States (1976) E23, E135.
Inflationary pressures mounted in the United States during the summer of 1950, when a
Communist regime in North Korea suddenly attacked its southern neighbor, and yet another
major war began. By 1951, most of the world’s great powers had men in combat on the Korean
peninsula. Military forces rapidly expanded throughout the world. More Americans were in
uniform during the Korean War (1950–53) than during World War I.
In its economic impact of the Korean War was similar to the world wars that had preceded it.
Once again inflationary pressures surged throughout the world. In 1950, wholesale prices
jumped 12 percent in the United States, 18 percent in Germany, 21 percent in Britain, 28
percent in France, 32 percent in Sweden.
In the United States, President Harry Truman acted decisively, and revived price controls with
high success. As a short-run emergency war measure, the regulation of the American market
during the Korean conflict proved to be highly effective, more so even than in World War II.
After controls were imposed in 1951, prices and wages became remarkably stable. There was
no inflationary surge from 1951 to 1954, and no explosion of repressed demand when controls
were removed. Price-regulation kept inflation within narrow bounds. It also diminished the
dangerous social instabilities that often accompany price-surges. The side effects of short-term
price controls in 1942–45 and 1950–53 were much less destructive to the social fabric than
neoclassical anti-inflationary policies of 1980s and 1990s. Those who believe that “price
controls don’t work,” even in the short run, will find strong evidence to the contrary in the
history of the American economy during World War II and the Korean War.
Through all of these turbulent events, global prices continued to rise in peace as well as war.
Even as price surges were restrained in some nations by strict controls, the secular trend
moved inexorably upward. In the United States from 1938 to 1963, consumer prices rose every
year but two. During the span of an entire generation, inflation was the rule in twenty-three
years out of twenty-five. One result was a growth of what Americans called an “inflationary
psychology.” The existence of inflation as a secular trend began to be discovered by
individuals, corporations, and governments throughout the world.16
American historian Eric Goldman lived through this period in the United States. “Inflation
jabbed people wherever they turned,” he remembered. “Trolleys and subways went up two
cents, then a nickel. The ten-cent Sunday newspaper was disappearing in America. Still more
irritating were things that were hard to buy at any price. A public with billions of dollars
stored up in war bonds and savings accounts . . . found itself queuing up in long nerve-jangling
lines. Women had trouble getting furniture, nylons, a new electric iron; men found clothing,
even a razor blade that would shave clean, in short supply. . . . As the summer of 1946 closed,
the food shortages were reaching their climax. First came a meteoric rise in prices. . . .
Gradually the store shelves began to fill; within months of the election of 1946, steaks and
roasts were no longer drawing crowds. . . . Prices kept on climbing. Even the kids of Cape
Cod resort towns, who for years had dived to retrieve pennies thrown in the water by
vacationers, now refused to budge except for nickels. But the public was learning to live with
inflation.”17
In the years after World War II, this underlying inflationary psychology firmly established itself
in North America and western Europe. People tried to make light of the problem. American
humorist Max Kauffman observed, “Among the things that money can’t buy is everything it used
to.” Vaudeville comedian Henny Youngman remarked, “Americans are getting stronger. Twenty
years ago, it took two people to carry ten dollars’ worth of groceries. Today, a five-year-old
can do it.”
The inflation jokes of the 1950s expressed a growing mood of fatalism about price movements.
That attitude encouraged pessimism about the possibility of restraining inflation and caused
people to seek other remedies. These new responses caused more inflation and increased its
momentum. They also institutionalized its dynamics within entire cultural systems.
This had happened in every other price-revolution, but during the twentieth century, the
institutional machinery of modern society had grown stronger and more complex than before.
Institutional responses to rising prices reinforced inflation more powerfully than in earlier
waves.
The dynamic American responses to price floors were not price ceilings, but wage floors. In
1938, the Congress enacted the Fair Labor Standards Act, which set the first national minimum
wage. It also briefly considered a maximum wage, but that idea was quickly forgotten.
Thereafter, the minimum wage was frequently raised, and extended more broadly through the
economy. Similar laws were enacted in other nations. This legislation helps to explain one of
the distinctive features of the price-revolution in the twentieth century—its exceptionally high
rate of advance.18
In the period from 1938 to 1968, many inflationary floors were built into the American
economy: floors under wages, pensions, and compensation for the unemployed; floors beneath
farm prices, steel prices, liquor prices, and milk prices; floors for airline fares, trucking
charges, doctors’ bills, and lawyers’ fees. Not all of these floors were erected by public
authorities. Many were imposed by corporations, labor unions and professional associations.
The creation of regulatory floors without ceilings accelerated a dynamic process called the
wage-price spiral by conservatives, and the price-wage spiral by liberals.
The institutionalization of inflation in the twentieth century was not limited to price and wage
regulation itself. Systemic restraints were placed also upon supply. Many nations imposed
limits on production: farm products in the United States, oil in Saudi Arabia, coffee in
Colombia, gold in South Africa, and many other commodities throughout the world.
International cartels pursued the same policy where they were able to do so. The classic
example was the price of diamonds, which the De Beers syndicate inflated to many times their
market value by restrictions on supply and other methods. From a functional perspective, it
mattered not at all whether these policies were imposed by a national government, or an
international cartel, or a corporate manager. The impact on prices was the same. Wherever
supply was held down, prices tended to rise. The integrated international economy of the
twentieth century created many opportunities, and put them in the hands of small groups who
profited by their application.
Other new structural causes of inflation began to operate in the mid-twentieth century. One of
them was invented by American businessmen. Economist David Slawson called it
“competitive inflation.” Two rival sellers of the same commodity, instead of competing in the
classical manner by seeking to offer a better product at a lower price, learned in the twentieth
century to operate in other ways. They discovered that they could increase profits and expand
market-share by degrading their product, advertising relentlessly, packaging it in a different
form, and raising its unit price.
As a case in point, Slawson studied the price history of American candy bars. During the late
1950s, the going price of a candy bar was five cents. By 1983, it had risen to thirty-five cents.
The price was deliberately raised in a series of small five-cent increments by manufacturers.
Slawson found that “each increase was disguised by making the bar larger at the same time—
the size of the bar having been gradually decreased since the time of the last price rise. People
generally choose candy bars on the basis of taste and size, neither of which encourages them to
make close distinctions on the basis of price. Moreover, the manufacturers, one assumes
deliberately, make size difficult to assess by making the wrappers larger than the bars inside,
and by using a wide variety of shapes.”19
The laws of neo-classical economics are unable to explain the price history of the American
candy bar in the twentieth century. Market competition remained strong among candy-makers—
in some respects, stronger than ever before. But it was no longer primarily price competition,
and its effect on prices was the reverse of what neoclassical economic theory would lead us to
expect. The more competitive the candy market became in America during the twentieth
century, the more prices rose.20
Economist Slawson argued that there was little difference in pricing strategies used for candy
bars, automobiles, airline tickets, and other goods and services. He developed a model of a
new “competitive inflation” to describe a world of growing complexity in pricing decisions by
corporate sellers, and of increasing uncertainties for the individual buyer. Those trends in turn
represented a shift in the distribution of knowledge and power in the marketplace. Sellers
operated increasingly at an advantage over buyers. When that happened, prices went up.
In all of these ways, the great inflation of the twentieth century differed from every price-
revolution that had preceded it. Its velocity, mass, and momentum were greater than those that
came before.
In 1962, the price-revolution entered a new stage. After a period of comparatively slow
increase during the late 1950s, inflation began to accelerate. This was a global movement. It
appeared at about the same time in many nations: Austria (1962), Denmark (1962), Ireland
(1962), Norway (1962), Sweden (1962), Belgium (1963), Italy (1963), Switzerland (1963),
the Netherlands (1964), United Kingdom (1964), Yugoslavia (1964), Germany (1965), and the
United States (1965).1
The epicenter of this new movement was in western Europe, which had recovered very rapidly
from the catastrophe of the second World War. After a recession in 1957–59, most European
economies were flourishing. Unemployment fell to record lows in 1961: below 4 percent in
Denmark and Italy; 3 percent in Austria and Norway; 2 percent in Britain and Spain; barely 1
percent in Germany and Switzerland.2
This economic prosperity had a strong political effect. Many western nations took a turn to the
left. The results included the presidencies of John Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson in the United
States (1961), the “Opening to the Left” in Italy (1961), the election of a Labour government in
Britain (1964), and the emergence of the “Great Coalition” in Germany (1966). European
labor movements became more aggressive and more successful, winning large wage
settlements in these years.3
It was during this halcyon era of high prosperity and full employment that rates of inflation
began to accelerate. Japanese consumer prices, for example, had increased less than one
percent a year from 1955 to 1959. In the 1960s, they began to climb more rapidly, at more than
five percent each year. Producer price increases in Japan were smaller, but still substantial.4
Rates of gain varied from one nation and monetary system to another in the early 1960s. The
pace of inflation was very low in Switzerland (2.3%), West Germany (2.4%) and the United
States (2.5%). It was higher in Sweden (3.6%), Britain (3.6%), France (4.4%) and India
(4.5%). The highest rates were in Latin America, and the Middle East. No nations were
exempt.5
Price rises remained comparatively moderate in the North American economy, which
restrained the world inflation-rate until 1965. Then they also began to accelerate, partly
because President Lyndon Johnson and his advisors made a major miscalculation. The Johnson
administration decided to expand public spending for social welfare in the United States and
simultaneously fight a major war in Southeast Asia, without a large increase in taxes. In the
journalistic jargon of the day, they believed that the booming American economy could supply
both “guns and butter” at the same time.
The result was a large increase in public spending, on top of growing aggregate demand in the
private sector. American prices began to rise more rapidly, especially prices for food and farm
products. The annual rate of inflation in the United States trebled from 1961 to 1966.
Many scholars mistakenly remember the Vietnam War as the pivotal event in the acceleration
of inflation during the 1960s. In fact, the surge began a few years earlier, in another part of the
world. The fiscal policies of the Johnson administration had an impact because they reinforced
an existing trend and increased its momentum.6
The roots of the price-revolution ran deep in the 20th century. As in every other great wave, the
rapid increase of world population and the growth of aggregate demand were the primary
cause of price increases. The world economy was more productive than ever before, and its
rate of growth was the highest in history. But it could not keep up with demand. In the United
States, whenever capacity-utilization rose above 80 percent, the rate of inflation accelerated.
When it fell below that level, as it did from time to time, inflation subsided.
A similar pattern appeared in the association between prices and unemployment. When the
unemployment rate fell below 6 percent, the rate of inflation advanced more rapidly. When
unemployment rose above that level, inflation retreated. Clearly, the price-revolution of the
twentieth century was embedded in demographic trends and economic structures.
As early as 1966, American leaders began to show concern about rising prices and acted
forcefully to restrain them. The expansion of the money supply (M-I) was brought to a dead
halt in the second quarter of 1966. Interest rates were raised deliberately to their highest levels
in half a century, in what was called the credit crunch of 1966. An economist observes that this
was “the first occasion in the post World War II period that the Fed sharply cut back monetary
growth and caused rapid and, for a time, large increases in interest rates.”7
As these policies took effect, the prosperous American economy skidded into a brief “mini-
recession” in 1967. But inflation did not end. Consumer prices continued to climb, and by
1968 the buoyant American economy began to boom again. As inflationary pressures mounted,
public officials in the Johnson administration and the Federal Reserve Board once again
adopted policies of economic restraint. They tightened credit, applied various fiscal
restrictions, drove interest rates higher, increased taxes by a 10 percent surcharge on incomes,
and curbed monetary growth in early 1969.
These measures were deliberately intended to create what was called a “policy recession.”
They succeeded all too well. In 1969, anti-inflationary measures began to have an effect, but
not precisely the one that was intended. After the long boom of the 1960s, the American
economy went into steep decline, dragging other nations with it. The recession of 1968–71,
writes economist Robert Gordon, combined “the worst of three worlds.” One might say that it
combined the worst of five worlds. National product diminished. Unemployment rose sharply.
The dollar fell against other currencies, and yet the American balance of payments rapidly
deteriorated. Through it all, inflation stubbornly persisted in a new combination with economic
stagnation, which American economist Paul Samuelson may have been the first to call
“stagflation.”8
Figure 4.14 shows the relationship between inflation and the use of manufacturing capacity in
the United States from 1960 to 1993. When capacity-utilization rose above 8 percent, rates of
inflation generally increased. When capacity-utilization fell below 8 percent, inflation tended
to fall. Sources: Historical Statistics of the United States (1976), E135; Statistical Abstract
of the United States (1993) table 757; capacity utilization, ibid., (1976) table 1250; (1988)
table 1250; (1993) table 1261.
When President Richard Nixon came to office, he was forced to deal with an economy in deep
disarray. In response to stagflation, this highly conservative president amazed his friends and
gratified his enemies by suddenly becoming a convert to the interventionist economics of John
Maynard Keynes. “Now I am a Keynesian,” Nixon told an astonished television journalist,
Howard K. Smith. The president’s “new economic policy” combined a strong dose of
Keynesian fiscal stimuli with an unprecedented system of peacetime price and wage controls.
These measures proved immensely popular with most Americans. National polls consistently
showed strong public support for price controls. The economy began to revive, and inflation
rapidly diminished from 5 percent in 1970 to 3 percent in 1972.9
But despite their general popularity, price and wage controls had powerful enemies in the
United States. They were strongly opposed on theoretical grounds by neoclassical economists.
At the same time they were strenuously resisted by leaders of big labor and big business, and
also by their many friends and protectors in both political parties. These small but vocal elites
mounted effective campaigns—insisting over and over again that “price controls don’t work,”
that “regulation is unfair,” and that restraints would be destructive of economic growth.
Figure 4.15 shows that the rate of inflation generally increased when unemployment fell below
6 percent. The rate of inflation commonly declined when unemployment rose above that level.
The sources include: for inflation, Historical Statistics of the United States (1976) E135;
Statistical Abstract of the United States (1993) table 757; for unemployment, ibid., (1976)
table 558; (1988) table 605; (1993) table 652.
All of those arguments were false. Short-term price and wage controls had worked well in
recent applications. They were less unfair than unrestrained inflation, and did far less damage
to economic growth than anti-inflationary tools such as interest-rate manipulation and policy
recessions. But the anti-regulatory arguments were often repeated and widely believed.
Powerful interests lobbied incessantly for an end to price and wage controls, until both
Congress and the Nixon administration gave way. Controls were relaxed prematurely, while
inflationary pressures remained strong.
Once more prices began to advance rapidly. This time, leaders of the administration tried to
restrain them by a policy of moral suasion called “jawboning” in the jargon of the day. The
only discernible effect of jawboning was an inflation of rhetoric that kept pace with rising
prices. The cost of living kept on climbing.
Later in his beleaguered presidency, Nixon wanted to freeze prices again. His neoclassical
economic advisers firmly resisted that idea. Herbert Stein remembers: “I warned him, citing
Heraclitus, that you can’t step in the same river twice.” Nixon replied, “you can if it’s frozen.”
But controls had become politically untenable, whatever their economic merits may have
been.10
Then came an entirely unexpected event, of the sort that happens frequently in price history and
yet can never be predicted. In October 1973, the state of Israel was attacked without warning
by its Arab neighbors on the Jewish holiday called Yom Kippur. At the same time, Arab
nations placed an embargo on oil as part of their war effort. A hitherto ineffective cartel called
the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC), agreed to raise the benchmark
price of Saudi “marker crude” oil from $3 to $5.11 a barrel. This measure was meant to be a
strategic weapon against Israel and her western allies. It proved to be highly successful—so
much so that in January 1974 OPEC raised prices again, to the dizzy height of $11.65 a barrel.
The Arab cartel also tried to stop the flow of oil altogether to the United States and the
Netherlands as a special punishment for their support of Israel.
These acts were not unprecedented. Twice before the Arab states had tried to use oil as a
strategic weapon. Twice the United States had stabilized prices by drawing on its vast
petroleum reserves. By 1973, however, the American reserves were nearly gone, and the
United States had become a heavy importer of foreign oil. It was powerless to stop OPEC by
anything short of military action, which for a time was seriously considered by the Nixon
administration. Within a few months, oil prices quadrupled.
The American reaction, writes oil expert John M. Blair, “approached pure panic.”
Governments, corporations, and individuals were entirely unprepared for this turn of events.
Many American families and institutions found their budgets strained beyond the breaking
point. In Europe, energy-poor industries collapsed. Unemployment soared. The worst suffering
occurred in the third world, where fragile economies were cruelly shattered by the actions of
the OPEC cartel.11
Figure 4.16 compares the cost of fuel oil with consumer prices in the United States
(1960=100). The source is the Statistical Abstract of the United States (1993), table 756.
The success of OPEC was made possible by fundamental economic forces. By 1973, the world
had become highly vulnerable to commodity cartels. Twenty years of postwar prosperity and
accelerating population growth had created heavy demand for raw materials. Oil was not
unique in that respect. During the decade of the 1970s, the prices of many commodities rose
even more rapidly than petroleum. Some surged to their highest levels in modern history. In
1980, as the price of oil climbed to $40 a barrel, tin reached $8 a pound, silver peaked at $54
an ounce and gold rose to $875 an ounce. Other raw materials such as hides, rubber, cotton,
and grain also rose to high levels.
The velocity of these trends accelerated after 1973. In the United States, the Consumer Price
Index registered an increase of 11 percent in 1974. Producer prices rose even more rapidly, to
18.9 percent in the same year. This “double-digit inflation” as it came to be called, was at that
time the highest peacetime price-surge in American history.12
In 1975, President Gerald Ford convened an urgent “summit meeting” of leading economists to
discuss the problem of inflation. John Kenneth Galbraith was present. “There was full
professional agreement on only one remedy,” Galbraith remembered, “that government
regulations should be reviewed to remove any obvious impediments to market competition.
For practical effect, this was no better than the President’s own prescription, which was the
wearing of buttons inscribed with the insignia WIN, for Whip Inflation Now.”13
Inflation moderated in 1976–77, largely because of the disruption of the world economy and
the decline of demand, but annual price increases continued in the range of 6 percent—an
exceptionally high level by historic standards. The stubborn persistence of inflation, and the
recent failure of so many policies created a painful dilemma for national leaders.
In the United States, the new Carter administration acted on the advice of neo-classical
economists and promoted a new idea called “deregulation,” partly in the hope of removing
regulatory “floors” under price and wages. The effect of “deregulation” did not as a rule
remove the floors themselves. It merely removed control of them from the public to the private
sector. Inflation continued, now in company with growing inequalities of income. During the
late 1970s, consumer prices in the United States accelerated sharply yet again, in another surge
of increasing volatility. Once more the OPEC cartel played a leading role. In 1978–79, it
ruthlessly raised the price of oil to such a height that the United States was paying nearly $100
billions a year to oil-producing nations. The annual rate of inflation in consumer prices
reached 13.5 percent in 1980, a new peacetime record in American history.
American inflation, high as it was by historical standards, remained below the global average.
A survey by the International Monetary Fund in 1979–80 found that consumer prices were
rising in every nation for which data was available. The smallest rates of inflation that year
were in Switzerland, Burma, and Saudi Arabia. The highest rates were in Israel, Turkey and
Latin America. The United States experienced price increases of 12.8 percent, very high by the
measure of its own experience, but below the International Monetary Fund’s estimated “world
inflation rate” of 15.6 percent that year. The price-revolution of the twentieth century was a
global movement, with local variations.14
Figure 4.17. Source: International Financial Statistics 34 (1981) 45.
The tightly controlled Communist economies of eastern Europe were also caught up in the great
wave, but in a different way. Prices and wages were held ruthlessly in check by the instruments
of a totalitarian state, but state planners were not able to restrain the pressures of aggregate
demand. The result was the development of rationing, the Communist alternative to inflation. In
the western world, rising prices were themselves a system of market-rationing which allocated
scarce resources to those who were willing and able to pay higher prices. The Communist
system substituted state-rationing for market-rationing. Throughout eastern Europe the same
scenes were enacted. Long queues, empty shops, and meatless meals became the Marxist
surrogate for price-inflation. State-rationing, continued year after year, engendered problems of
deep corruption in Communist nations. Corrupt regimes that ruled in the name of the people
rapidly lost their moral legitimacy.
Free-market nations tried to protect themselves against inflation by adopting autarchic policies,
with consequences that caused major economic problems throughout the world. The leading
example was Japan, which was highly vulnerable to commodity cartels. To pay its soaring oil
bills, the Japanese flooded the world market with exports. In America alone, the total value of
Japanese goods rose from five billion dollars in 1970 to thirty billions only a decade later. At
the same time, the Japanese actively discouraged imports to their own economy. The result was
the growth of large imbalances in international trade, and the collapse of many American
industries. Unemployment surged in the United States, while inflation continued at high levels.
In 1979–80, the liberal Democratic administration of Jimmy Carter declared inflation to be the
nation’s “number one problem.” On the advice of economists, and in alliance with Chairman
Paul Volcker, a deeply conservative banker who headed the Federal Reserve Board, a southern
Populist president adopted highly repressive economic policies. Interest rates were raised to
record heights. The money supply was restrained. Taxes were allowed to reach the highest
peacetime levels in American history, mainly as a consequence of inflationary “bracket creep,”
which carried most Americans into higher tax brackets. A major effort was made to reduce
American dependence on foreign oil. In the last months of the Carter administration these
policies began to take effect. The American economy faltered and turned sharply downward.
Inflation began to subside. But new problems began to appear.
Major instabilities developed in commodity markets. The United States and other nations had
responded to rising the cost of energy by increasing domestic production of oil, by shifting to
other fuels, and by reducing demand for energy. These measures succeeded beyond
expectations. Their effect was to solve one problem by creating another—the energy glut of the
1980s. Suddenly, the world found itself awash in oil. Energy prices fell sharply, and
petroleum-producing regions such as Texas and Alberta fell into deep depressions.
The oil glut of the 1980s caught governments and corporations by surprise. A symbol of
massive miscalculations by high executives in the major oil corporations and shipping
companies was long rows of idle supertankers, rusting at their moorings in Norwegian fjords
during the early 1980s. These ships had been ordered during the OPEC oil famine. They had
been completed just in time for the glut that followed. Many were among the largest ships ever
constructed. Some were destined never to sail except to the breakers’ yards. The shipbuilding
industry had expanded to meet the demand for these new ships. Now it found itself with excess
capacity, and collapsed with a resounding crash throughout the world.15
Similar reversals also occurred in other sectors of the world economy, notably in agriculture.
During the early 1970s, high food prices had sent production soaring. American farmers
borrowed heavily to increase production. Then, in the 1980s, the world found itself producing
more food than it could consume. American farmers were faced with saturated markets, heavy
debts, and excess capacity. They began to go bankrupt in numbers unprecedented even in the
Great Depression. Meanwhile, politically powerful European farmers, encouraged by price
supports, kept producing a vast surplus which was purchased by the European Economic
Community and stored in “butter mountains” and “wine lakes.” India and other developing
nations, with the aid of new farming methods in the “green revolution,” also began to produce
more food than they consumed, and agricultural markets were glutted round the world.
Market-instability was intensified by the acts of private speculators. The effect of increasing
wealth concentration was to increase the supply of surplus capital, which shifted rapidly from
one investment opportunity to another throughout the world in search of profit. The increasing
liquidity and volatility of markets created opportunities that were aggressively pursued,
sometimes less for profit than for sport. Some of these speculations succeeded; others failed;
all of them together contributed to the growing instability of the world economy.
An example was the silver bubble of the 1970s. In 1973, the Hunt family of Texas, at that time
possibly the richest family in America, decided to buy precious metals as a hedge against
inflation. Gold could not be held by private citizens in the United States at that time, and so the
Hunts began to buy silver in enormous quantity, perhaps even hoping to corner the world silver
market—a wild speculation reminiscent of Colebrook’s alum scheme in the price-revolution of
the eighteenth century. Silver prices surged from $1.94 an ounce in 1973 to $50.35 in 1980.
The corner failed, and the Hunt family fell deep in debt. By 1987, their liabilities had grown to
nearly $2.5 billion, against assets of $1.5 billion. America’s richest family slipped to the edge
of bankruptcy, and the shock waves spread through the economy.16
After 1981, the Reagan administration created new opportunities for speculators and corporate
raiders by relaxing antitrust rules and promoting business deregulation. “Hostile takeovers”
and “leveraged buyouts” multiplied at a rapid rate, often with catastrophic consequences for
corporations, jobs, communities, and individuals. In the economically depressed state of
Maine, for example, what remained of the shoe industry was dealt a heavy blow by takeovers.
In the fragile economy of the American Middle West, small industrial corporations were
destroyed by the same process. Healthy corporations with strong balance sheets, cash reserves,
and an active sense of civic responsibility were specially at risk. Some of the best and most
responsible American companies such as Dayton-Hudson and Phillips Petroleum, outstanding
corporate citizens with strong balance sheets, were compelled assume crushing debt in an
effort to fight off hostile takeovers. The result of this activity was growing instability in the
economic life of the nation.
In the mid-1980s, the new electronic technology of securities markets increased speculative
instabilities of another kind. Chicago’s Mercantile Exchange invented futures-trading in stocks,
with lower margin requirements than the stock exchanges themselves. This created
opportunities for traders to shift their money back and forth from stocks to stock futures, and to
extract large profits from small disparities. The work was done by “programmed trading,” in
which computers sent automatic signals to buy and sell when stocks and stock-futures reached
predetermined levels. Programmed trading increased the volatility of securities markets.
Buffers that had been invented after the Great Depression were unable to restrain this new
technology. Stock values soared in 1987, and Wall Street became a great casino. Millions of
small investors were caught up in the speculative mania.
The day of reckoning came on October 19, 1987. The New York stock market suddenly
crashed. The same processes of programmed trading that had brought the market to dizzy
heights, now sent it tumbling down again in its worst collapse since 1929. Panic-stricken
investors rushed to sell large quantities of stock, often at a heavy loss. The Dow Jones
industrial average plunged 500 points, and billions of dollars vanished in an afternoon.
On the morning after, some experts explained that the collapse was merely a massive
correction of grossly inflated stock-prices. They did not ask how the inflation had happened in
the first place. Others believed that the crash was caused by programmed trading in stock
futures on commodity exchanges where margin requirements were low or nonexistent. Many
small investors concluded that financial markets had become corrupt casinos, in which the
games were rigged by insiders.
After the crash, the confidence of investors collapsed, and the stock market was unable to
serve its primary economic function of mobilizing capital for investment. In 1988, more than
100 major American corporations found themselves unable to issue new stock offerings for
their capital needs. Neither the securities industry nor the Reagan administration were able to
agree on regulatory reforms. In the two years that followed the Crash of 1987, Congress and
the federal government failed to enact a single substantive reform for securities markets.
In the 1980s, the battered world economy slipped into another recession. This one was deep—
the deepest since the 1930s. It was marked by excess capacity and plummeting commodity
prices. Producer prices of food and raw materials fell steeply from 1981 to 1986, reaching
their lowest levels since the Great Depression. Oil declined from $40 a barrel to $8 in 1986.
Tin dropped from $8 a pound to $2.50; copper slipped from $1 to 45 cents; silver plummeted
from $54 to less than $5 an ounce. But even in the very depth of this recession, consumer
prices continued their inexorable advance. Inflation slowed, but did not cease.17
When the major industrial economies began to revive, prices of raw materials started to climb
again. In 1987, the price of oil doubled. Cotton and lead trebled. Strong upward trends
appeared in the price of copper, nickel, aluminum, wool, hides and rubber. Overall,
commodity prices rose by nearly one-third in a single year, and further increases followed in
1988.18
A large part of this increase was due to hoarding, in fear of higher prices ahead. Economic
forecasters predicted further price increases, and an inflationary psychology rapidly
strengthened throughout the world. Fear of inflation began to be more disruptive than inflation
itself. The expectation of rising prices caused prices to rise higher.19
By 1989, as producer prices were rising sharply, world leaders openly discussed the need for
driving the economies of the industrial world into a yet another “policy recession.” They did
so at a time when markets and economies were deeply unstable. Governments worked to
“cool” their economies by raising interest rates. In the United States, the Federal Funds Rate
was driven up from 6.7 percent in 1987 to 9.2 percent in 1990. Consumer interest rates
climbed much higher. Other fiscal and monetary measures were also adopted, but now that
price controls were discredited, the remedy for double-digit inflation was double-digit
interest.
This policy of using high interest rates to control high inflation had many economic and social
effects. It increased inequality, discouraged investment, diminished productivity, reduced
demand, and drove up unemployment. Ironically, in some ways it also promoted inflation. The
cost of housing, for example, rose sharply in part because home construction was inflated by
builders’ capital costs, which increased with the rate of interest. Interest-rate manipulation was
a very powerful instrument of economic policy. Its impact was much broader than it was meant
to be.
The result was yet another recession in 1990–91. In that year, the United States had negative
rates of economic growth, falling per capita income, and growing unemployment. The rate of
inflation slowed from 5.4 percent in 1990 to 3 percent in 1992. Economists and politicians
declared that inflation was “under control.” It wasn’t. Even in the midst of the recession,
consumer prices continued to climb. The rate of gain even in this recession remained higher
than the average inflation in any previous price-revolution in world history.
So steep was the recession in 1990–91 that the managers of the American economy, in fear of a
full-blown depression, shifted suddenly from the brake to the accelerator. Interest rates were
driven down to historic lows. The Federal Funds Rate dropped from 9.2 percent in 1989 to 3.5
percent in 1992.
Industrial economies began to revive, first in America (1992), then in Europe (1993); but this
was the halfway prosperity that had happened in the late stages of every price-revolution.
Many workers remained jobless. In May 1994, rates of unemployment were above 6 percent in
the United States, 8 percent in Germany, 9 percent in Great Britain, II percent in Italy, 12
percent in France, 13 percent in Belgium, 24 percent in Spain, and 50 percent in South Africa.
These were the official rates. The true numbers were higher, and even they did not begin to
measure the social costs. For every worker without a job there were others who had been
unemployed in the recent past, and many more who feared that they might be jobless in the
immediate future.
The social cost of anti-inflationary policies had become more destructive than inflation itself.
Opportunities diminished. Inequalities increased. The principal victims were not a class but a
generation—young people who had no hope for the future and no memory of better times in the
past. The result was a rapid growth of alienation, anomie, confusion, and despair.
Through it all, consumer prices kept on climbing. Economic managers nervously shifted their
weight from accelerators to brakes, then back to accelerators and once more to brakes.
Inflation diminished but did not disappear. In early 1995, prices rose at annual rates of 4
percent in Germany, 6 percent in Britain and Switzerland, 8 percent in Italy and Spain. Lower
rates prevailed in Japan and the United States, where some observers argued that inflation had
been conquered. It was not so. Prices continued to outpace wages. Real income fell, and
families were desperately hard pressed. Institutions of many kinds operated under heavy fiscal
strain, and struggled to balance their budgets at heavy social cost.
Growing Imbalances
These stresses rose directly from the structure of the price-revolution itself. Every great wave
had been much the same that way. In the late stages of these long movements, severe strains
began to develop within social systems. The damage was done not by price-inflation itself, but
by disparities in its operation.
Some prices inflated more rapidly than others. Price-relatives were much the same as in every
long wave since the middle ages. Once again, as thrice before, soaring prices of food and
energy and raw materials had led the inflationary advance. Prices of manufactured products
such as cars, textiles, appliances, toys, leisure goods, and furniture all lagged behind. The
cause was the same as in every other price-revolution. The consequences fell most cruelly
upon the poor, who paid a large proportion of their income for food, fuel and shelter.20
Suffering was compounded by wage-movements after 1975. During the early and middle
decades of the twentieth century, workers had done better than in previous price-revolutions. In
the United States real wages kept rising through most of the period from 1896 to 1975.21 The
cause was to be found in a combination of union activity, minimum wage laws, productivity
gains, and social welfare legislation.22 During the early 1970s, that trend reversed. Real wages
fell sharply after 1973, dropped again from 1978 to 1982, and declined once more from 1984
to 1996. Broadly similar trends were evident in both white collar and blue collar jobs.23
Figure 4.18 shows a pattern of price relatives in the 20th century that was broadly similar to
earlier price revolutions, but different in important details. Once again the cost of energy, raw
materials and farm products led the advance. Once more, wages and manufactures lagged
behind. Two differences separated the 20th century price revolution from its predecessors. The
cost of food increased less rapidly, re, relative to other raw materials; and wages rose a little
more rapidly in relative terms, though still falling behind the cost of living. The source is
Statistical Abstract of the United States (1978) 765.
While real wages fell, returns to capital rose more rapidly than the general price level. This
was most dramatically so for landed capital. The cost of rent and real estate in the United
States multiplied sixfold from 1960 to 1992, while the consumer price index increased
threefold. Prime real estate went up tenfold or more. On Manhattan’s Upper East Side, a
cooperative apartment that had gone for $60,000 in 1968 rose as high as $600,000 twenty
years later. In Boston suburbs with good schools, modest homes that sold for $20,000 in 1965
brought $400,000 in 1986. Similar trends occurred in western Europe and east Asia. In Tokyo,
prime commercial real estate rose so high that it was sold by the square meter, at prices
between $200,000 and $300,000 for an area 40 inches on a side.24
Interest rates also increased more rapidly than prices. During the early years of the twentieth
century, interest had fluctuated more or less in proportion to the cost of living. In the 1960s, a
different pattern appeared. Rates of interest on home mortgages trebled in fifteen years. In New
England, mortgage rates rose from 5 per cent in 1965 to 16 per cent by 1979, a rate of increase
half again higher than consumer prices in the same period. Consumer loans and credit-card
interest went above 20 per cent.
Figure 4.19 shows the long fall in real wages that began circa 1970, and continued with brief
reversals to 1996. The price revolution of the twentieth century had differed from its
predecessors in the rise of real wages before 1970. Thereafter, it conformed to the common
pattern. Returns to labor fell for American workers, both blue collar and white collar, while
returns to capital increased. The result was a growth of inequality that appears in figure 4.22
below. The source is the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, Employment and Earnings (1992);
Statistical Abstract of the United States, (1976), table 590); (1981), table 676; (1993), table
667.
Figure 4.20 shows that real estate values in the United States kept pace with rising prices to
1985, then rose more rapidly. It compares the median sale price of new privately owned one-
family houses in the United States, 1970-92, with consumer prices, indexed to 1982-84=100.
The sources are Statistical Abstract of the United States (1993), tables 756, 1225; U. S. Dept.
of Housing and Urban Development, New One-Family Houses Sold (1994).
In other price-revolutions, rates of interest had risen more rapidly than prices, but this time
another factor was also at work. During the late twentieth century, interest rates were
deliberately driven up as a way of managing the economy and controlling inflation. When
prices accelerated, the central banks raised interest rates to depress demand. In periods of
recession, interest rates were driven down to stimulate economic growth.
That, at least, was the idea. In practice the policy was distorted by a classic example of a
“ratchet-effect,” which allowed rates to move more freely up than down. When the Federal
Reserve Board raised interest rates in the United States, retail bankers instantly passed on the
increase to their borrowers. When the Fed lowered interest, the banks were slower to follow
suit. From 1970 to 1981, for example, the Federal Funds Rate rose from 7.2 to 16.4 percent,
and the cost of a conventional fixed-rate, long-term mortgage went from 8.6 to 16.6 percent.
But when the Federal Reserve reduced its discount rates from 9.2 to 3.5 percent (1989–92),
the cost of fifteen-year fixed mortgages fell very little, from 9.7 to 7.8 percent. This ratcheting
of rates reinforced the upward secular trend.
Figure 4.21 follows the rise of interest rates, which exceeded the pace of price inflation during
the twentieth century. The sources are Homer, History of Interest Rates, 343-63, 416-17, 434-
35, 448-49; Statistical Abstract of the United States, (1981-93); Annuaire Statistique de la
France (1984-93); Great Britain, Annual Abstract of Statistics (1984-93).
When real wages fell and real returns to capital increased, the social consequences were
inexorable. Inequality increased. In the United States this trend began circa 1968.25 Great
fortunes grew steadily greater, and the upper middle class also flourished, while poverty and
homelessness increased. The upper third of the nation gained ground; the lower two thirds fell
behind. The work force was increasingly polarized into two labor markets. The upper market
offered high pay, fringe benefits, and long tenure; the lower market was for jobs with low pay,
no fringes, and frequent layoffs.26
Figure 4.22 shows the growth of equality before 1968, and growing inequality thereafter. The
graph includes annual Gini ratios for the distribution of income. The Gini ratio is a measure of
concentration in which .00 represents perfect equality and .99 is perfect inequality (the upper
percentile owns everything). The table to the right lists income shares for six specific years.
Data are from surveys by the Census Bureau, the oldest and best annual series on income
distribution in the United States. They are useful as trend-indicators, but understate levels of
inequality by omitting unrelated individuals (whose income is less equally distributed), and by
excluding capital gains (which in 1992 raised the top quintile’s share from 44.6 to 50 percent).
Sources are Current Population Reports, series P-60; Historical Statistics of the United
States (1976), series G85-90; Statistical Abstract of the United States (various issues); and
Lynn A. Karoly, “The Trend in Inequality among Families, Individuals, and Workers in the
United States: Twenty-Five Year Perspective,” in Sheldon Danziger and Peter Gottschalk, eds.,
Uneven Tides: Rising Inequality in America (New York, 1993), 27.
America in the late twentieth century was becoming two nations. In New York City, the
contrast between wealth and poverty had always been great. Now it became increasingly
visible, and more extreme than ever before. Studies by the author and his students found that
after 1975, Gini ratios of wealth inequality reached their highest levels in four centuries of
American history. Inequality of income also climbed steeply from 1968 to 1996.
On a bitter cold Saturday evening in the winter of 1986, the author remembers seeing crowds
of opulent shoppers strolling on Madison Avenue, while homeless men and women in filthy
rags lay silently on steam grates, next to battered shopping carts that held all their worldly
goods. In 1989, Manhattan boutiques sold mink coats for four-year-old children (“a steal at
$1,200”), while homeless children slept in the streets and subways. Similar sights were to be
seen in other cities.27
Growing imbalances of another kind weakened the powers of governments and private
institutions, when they were needed most. Fiscal and monetary disparities developed in public
and private institutions. In the United States, President Ronald Reagan repeatedly overruled his
advisors and refused to raise taxes, while he increased spending. As a consequence, the
revenue of the federal government lagged far behind its expenditures, and the national debt
increased at an unprecedented rate. In eight years, the Reagan administration increased the
national debt more than all previous presidencies combined.28
The American national debt, large as it may have been, was only a small part of total
indebtedness in the United States. While federal indebtedness soared above $1 trillion, private
individual debt rose beyond $2 trillion, and debts owed by business corporations—the most
profligate borrowers of all—exceeded $3 trillion. By 1987, the United States had become the
world’s leading debtor nation. This mountain of debt created dangerous imbalances in the
American financial system. In Illinois, Texas, California and New York, some of the nation’s
biggest banks failed during the 1980s. Government intervention succeeded in preventing a
general collapse, but by 1989 the American banking system had become the hostage of
economic fortune. Any sort of setback—an international crisis, an economic recession, a rogue
trader, or a run of bad weather—threatened major disaster.
Even more unstable than the banks were savings and loan associations. After deregulation,
these institutions were so badly managed that by 1988 more than 500 were near bankruptcy,
and the price of solvency was a huge taxpayer “bailout” which deepened Federal deficits.
Investigators calculated that half of the losses were caused in part by fraud.
Instabilities also developed in international trade. The economic policies of the leading
western nations differed profoundly in the 1980s. In the United States, the Reagan
administration adopted “supply-side” policies which sought to stimulate the economy by
deregulation, tax cuts and other incentives. Other nations such as Japan and Germany on the
other hand, pursued a policy of slow growth, balanced budgets, strict regulation, and
conservative management. These policies made a difference in rates of economic growth,
which in turn distorted international trade. The American economy imported vast quantities of
foreign goods, but found comparatively static or even shrinking markets abroad. As a
consequence, imbalances increased in American foreign trade.
These trade imbalances contributed to monetary disorders. The Nixon administration had
deregulated the international monetary system, destroying the Bretton Woods agreement in
1971–73, and allowing exchange rates to float. After it did so the international monetary
system became increasingly unstable. The Reagan administration drove down the dollar
relative to other currencies, in hopes of making American products more competitive. The
dollar lost more than half of its value against several major currencies. Exports from the
United States sluggishly revived, but Americans continued to import foreign products in large
quantity, and their cost in devalued dollars was greater than before. The result in 1988 was the
growth of imported inflation—a price surge led by rises in the cost of clothing (much of it
made abroad) and other imported goods. American trade policy thus contributed directly to
inflation and instability.
So also did monetary policy. Many government officials throughout the free world became
monetarists in the 1970s. Major efforts were made by the Federal Reserve Board in the United
States and the Bank of England in the United Kingdom to stabilize their disordered economies
by regulating the money supply. These efforts were not successful, and actually increased
instabilities. Economist Milton Friedman raged against the errors of his own disciples,
repeatedly accusing the governors of the Federal Reserve System and the Bank of England of
grievous incompetence. But John Kenneth Galbraith comments, “An economic policy, it might
be pointed out in response, needs to be within the competence, however limited, of those
available to administer it.” A major problem was the complexity of factors that constrained
monetary decision-making—domestic politics, international conditions, class interests, and
social policy.29
Other sources of instability in the world included the acts of well-meaning economic planners
who tried to stabilize the disordered world economy. Like generals trained to fight the last
war, they tended to think in terms of past crises while new ones developed around them. A
classic example was the Thatcher government in Britain. During the 1970s, that nation had
suffered from chronic slow growth, soaring prices, massive unemployment and industrial
disintegration. In 1986, recovery began at last. The British economy began to grow more
rapidly than it had done for many years, but only a few months into the recovery, the British
government became deeply concerned about the dangers of inflation. As the economy struggled
painfully to its feet after decades of decline, an editorial in the London Times asked, “Is the
economy in danger of overheating?” A few days later, the government deliberately drove up
interest rates to “cool” it. The cause of their concern was the memory of double-digit inflation;
the effect was to retard a fragile recovery and revive unemployment, in a nation where more
than 15 percent of the work force were without a job.30
Economic instability in general, and inflation in particular, took a heavy toll in human
suffering. Crime increased rapidly around the world during the period from 1965 to 1993. In
the United States homicide rates rose in a series of surges that peaked in 1974, 1980, and
1991. These movements correlated very closely with rates of inflation. Similar patterns also
appeared in theft and robbery. It should be understood that the primary cause was not inflation,
but the stress that inflation caused. In the United States, crime had also tended to increase in the
depth of the great depression, when prices were falling, but material stress was also very high.
Nevertheless, in the penultimate stage of every price-revolution, price-surges caused crime-
surges. This pattern appeared in the fourteenth century, the sixteenth century, the eighteenth
century and again in the late twentieth century. Periods of price equilibrium, on the other hand,
were marked by sustained decline in crime rates in the early years of each price-revolution.
Similar patterns appeared in the use of drugs and drink. In the United States, consumption of
alcohol and the use of drugs both tended to rise during the 1960s and 1970s in a series of
surges that correlated with the rate of inflation in consumer prices. Similar tendencies had
occurred in the United States during the price-revolution of the eighteenth century. The
Victorian equilibrium, on the other hand, was marked by a sustained decline in alcohol
consumption, and in the United States by a decline in drug use after 1830.
Figure 4.23 compares rates of inflation in the United States (more precisely, the annual percent
increase in a fixed-weight price index of personal consumption expenditures), with rates of
homicide (annual cases of murder and nonnegligent manslaughter known to the police per
100,000 population), and with annual rates of theft (theft, larceny and burglary known to the
police, per 100,000 population). The sources include Historical Statistics of the United
States (1976) series H972; Statistical Abstract of the United States (1976), table 248;
(1981), table 293; (1988), table 263; (1993), table 300; and Federal Bureau of Investigation,
Uniform Crime Reports (1993–94).
Figure 4.24 compares the annual rate of inflation in the United States with annual consumption
of distilled liquor per capita (population 18 and older); and also with the proportion of young
adults (aged 18-25) who described themselves as “current users” of marihuana. Broadly
similar trends (with variations) also appeared for the use of heroin, cocaine, hallucinogens,
and inhalants; and for beer and wine. The source for liquor consumption is the Economic
Research Service, U.S. Dept. of Agriculture; for drug use, the National Household Survey on
Drug Abuse. Both are reported in Statistical Abstract of the United States (1981), tables 199,
1429; (1981), tables 180, 186; (1993), tables 208, 220. Readers should note that liquor
consumption and drug use peaked when real incomes were falling rapidly, prices were surging
and unemployment was increasing. A comparable surge in drinking (to the highest recorded
levels in American history) occurred in similar circumstances during the climactic years of the
eighteenth century price revolution. A long decline in alcohol consumption coincided with the
Victorian equilibrium. See figure 3.30.
Another linkage appeared between price movements and family disruption. In the United
States, the proportion of children born outside of marriage increased in proportion to the
movement of consumer prices. This trend had also appeared in every earlier price-revolution
for which evidence survives. It was very strong in the eighteenth century, and appeared also in
fragmentary sources for the sixteenth century. Here again periods of price equilibrium were
marked by countertrends. Material instability, and high rates of inflation placed heavy stresses
on families as well as individuals. In short, the three trends that Americans identified as the
most urgent social problems facing the nation—crime, drugs and family disruption—all
correlated with rates of inflation.
Figure 4.25 compares annual illegitimacy ratios (births to unwed women per 1000 total live
births in the United States) with consumer prices (1967=100). Sources include Daniel Scott
Smith, “The Long Cycle in American Illegitimacy and Prenuptial Pregnancy,” in Peter Laslett,
Karla Osterveen, and Richard M. Smith, eds., Bastardy and Its Comparative History
(Cambridge, 1980), 363-66; P. Cutright, “Illegitimacy in the United States, 1920-68,” in R.
Parke Jr., and C. F. Westoff, eds., Demographic and Social Aspects of Population Growth
(Washington, 1972), 383; Statistical Abstract of the Unïted States (1993), tables 101, 102,
756; Historical Statistics of the United States (1976), series E135.
The Crisis of the Late Twentieth Century
In the 1980s and 1990s, material tensions approached the breaking point. Everywhere in the
world, established orders came under heavy strain. Entire systems began to collapse, in a
sequence of events that was similar to the climax of every other price-revolution since the
Middle Ages. The crisis took different forms from one region to another, but every part of the
world was caught up in it.
The people of Africa experienced the crisis in its most catastrophic form. Here the imbalances
had become most extreme. After independence, the growth of population had accelerated
sharply, and economic development had lagged far behind. In 1988, the twenty poorest nations
of sub-Saharan Africa all had negative rates of economic growth. Per capita product fell from
$324 to $270 a year. By 1990, much of Africa was in the grip of a classic Malthusian crisis, on
a scale that Europe had not known since the fourteenth century.31
Sir William Osler observed that “humanity has but three great enemies: fever, famine and war.”
All were abroad in Africa. Famine stalked the Sahel. In Somalia, governments collapsed,
order disintegrated; a large part of the nation was reduced to starvation, while warlords
murdered relief workers who came to help. In Uganda and Zaire new epidemic diseases
appeared in forms more terrible even than the plagues of the 14th century. In Rwanda and
Burundi, tribal war led to mass murder of entire populations.
Even in the midst of crisis, there were countervailing tendencies. Nations such as Ghana built
strong institutions and maintained them. The people of South Africa ended their system of
apartheid, and struggled to construct a genuinely multiracial society. But in South Africa, half
the work force was unemployed, and social stresses were very great. By 1996 Africa below
the Sahara was in the grip of a general crisis as severe as any the world had ever seen.32
In eastern Europe, the general crisis caused one of the most dramatic reversals in modern
history. In the 1980s, leaders of communist regimes found themselves under heavy stress in
many ways at once. They felt themselves to be threatened from abroad by an American
government that had become increasingly bellicose, and was spending heavily on armaments—
even what appeared to be first-strike nuclear weapons, designed to “decapitate” command and
control systems in the Soviet Union. At the same time, aging socialist economies were unable
to maintain earlier rates of economic growth, and their citizens were demanding higher
standards of living. The increasing ossification of the Soviet system coincided with the late
stages of a global price-revolution, and with growing scarcities throughout the world. The
result, as we have seen, was price-rationing in capitalist countries and state-rationing in the
communist nations. Price-rationing was cruel in the west, but state-rationing was worse. It
became grossly corrupt, and made a mockery of the ideals on which socialist systems were
founded. The ruling few lived well; the many subsisted miserably. The rapid growth of
corruption and inequality destroyed the moral legitimacy of the socialist states at the same time
that the great wave eroded their material base. Any one of these problems alone was a serious
threat to the standing system. All of them together were fatal.
The result was not reform but revolution. To the amazement of the West, Communist states
suddenly began to fall apart. The first was Poland, where a union of shipyard workers who
called themselves Solidarity founded a movement for national liberation. Their leader, Lech
Walesa, declared in his Nobel speech of 1983, “He who once became aware of the power of
Solidarity and who breathed the air of freedom will not be crushed.”
Then to everyone’s astonishment, the government of one of the world’s two superpowers
collapsed. In 1987 Mikhail Gorbachev tried to reform the Soviet system by perestroika, or
restructuring. “The new is knocking at every door,” said Gorbachev. Soon it was coming in
through the windows. His reforms ended in revolution, which destroyed the communist system.
Marxism was discredited, and the Soviet Union disintegrated.33
In eastern Europe every other Marxist system came crashing down. A painful period followed.
Old ethnic rivalries that had been suppressed by Communist regimes exploded into war. A new
and very difficult economic transition from socialism to free market economics caused
negative rates of growth, hyperinflation, disorder, crime, and severe suffering. But open
institutions rapidly began to develop in eastern Europe. The new regimes were very shaky, and
suffered from the same stresses that had brought down their predecessors. Their future
remained in doubt.
In another part of the world, the crisis took a different form. From Afghanistan to Algeria, the
many nations of Islam were in turmoil during the 1980s and 1990s. After World War II, modern
secular elites had ruled them with a mix of Islamic and Western ideas. Rates of economic
growth were high, but the increase of population was higher. With the exception of oil-rich
Arab sheikdoms, Islam experienced the same economic stresses that were felt around the
world. The price-revolution took its toll. The cost of living surged. Real wages fell.
Inequalities increased. The teeming urban slums of this vast region were among the worst in
the world.
Figure 4.26 shows levels of hyperinflation in five former Socialist nations, 1992. Sources
include United Nations, Demographic Yearbook (1993) 336-53; Grzegorz W. Kolodko, Danuta
Gotz-Kozierkiewicz, and Elzbieta Skrzeszewska-Paczek, Hyperinflation and Stabilization in
Postsocialist Economies (Boston and Dordrecht, 1992).
Many in Islam blamed their troubles on western values. Fundamentalist movements began to
sweep the Islamic world. One by one, the secular regimes were attacked, and some were
destroyed. In 1979, Iran’s Pahlevi dynasty fell from power. In 1981, Egypt’s secular leader
Anwar Sadat was assassinated. A secular socialist regime in Afghanistan was destroyed by a
fundamentalist revolution. Islamic insurgencies developed in six of the former Soviet
republics. In 1992, Algeria’s Islamic Salvation Front won an election, but was prevented from
taking power. The result was civil war, and the murder of hundreds of secular Algerian
leaders. In 1993, Islamic fundamentalists in Turkey set fire to a hotel where secular leaders
were meeting. Forty died in the flames. The Palestinian people turned to Islamic
fundamentalism. Their aging secular leaders in desperation made peace with Israel, but there
was no peace. In 1996, the general crisis had barely begun in the Middle East. Its outcome was
in doubt.
In Latin America during the Cold War, the superpowers had fostered the growth of client
tyrannies both of the left and right. These predatory regimes made war upon their own people.
The results included civil war in central America, a corrupt Communist dictatorship in Cuba,
revolution from the right in Chile, the “disappearances” in Argentina, and the boat people of
Haiti. The economics of tyranny in Latin America were catastrophic. The results were social
exploitation, political corruption, and some of the worst hyperinflation in the modern world.
In the 1980s, new trends began to appear. As the Cold War ended, the superpowers withdrew
their support of tyranny in Latin America. The people of the region rose against the systems that
had oppressed them. One by one, the tyrannies began to collapse. By 1996, all but one Latin
American nation were living under democracy and the rule of law. The general crisis in this
region destroyed a system of tyranny and oppression. But here again the new and more open
regimes were themselves very fragile, and the outcome was uncertain.
Even the strongest national economies showed signs of severe stress in the 1990s. A case in
point was Japan, which for a generation had been perceived to be the most dynamic and
successful economy in the world. In the early 1990s, signs of trouble began to appear.
Increasing pressure was brought on Japan by competitors in Asia, and trading partners in
America. A crisis of economic confidence developed within Japan itself. Labor costs were
high; productivity gains lagged behind those of other nations. By 1994–95, Japan had negative
rates of economic growth. The Japanese stock market fell sharply, and individual investors
suffered huge losses. By 1995, the economic stress was so severe that the nation as a whole
began to experience extended price deflation.
A growing spirit of cultural alienation began to develop in Japan, similar to that in other
nations throughout the world. Religious cults grew rapidly. A militant Buddhist cult that called
itself Aum Shinrikyo, who believed that the universe would end in 1997, began in their
madness to manufacture a deadly nerve gas called Sarin. In March 1995, they released some of
it in a crowded Japanese subway, killing eleven commuters and injuring hundreds more. The
police struck quickly. Cult leader Shoko Asahara was arrested, but the incident brought home
the vulnerability of modern industrial societies.
Supporters of Aum Shinrikyo included some of Japan’s most highly educated young people
who dedicated their talent and discipline to the destruction of their own nation. This terrible
event could have happened anywhere. That it happened even in Japan demonstrated the depth
and breadth of problems that existed in all industrial societies.
The events of the late twentieth century increasingly resembled price-revolutions in the past.
Once again, world systems were in crisis. This was a crisis not only in the conventional sense
of a time when things hang in the balance.
When these words were written in the Spring of 1996, the outcome was very much in doubt,
but some trends were clear enough. Environing conditions that had set the price-revolution in
motion were changing rapidly. Rates of population-growth were plummeting throughout the
world. Total numbers of people continued to rise, but rates of gain were coming down. By
1996, some nations approached zero-growth. Other nations from the West Indies to eastern
Europe had negative growth.34
As the pace of population-growth diminished, rates of inflation also fell in the 1990s, with a
speed that took experts by surprise. Inflation forecasts were repeatedly revised downward, but
not fast enough to keep pace with the new trends. In 1994, economic forecasters around the
world swallowed hard and predicted that prices would rise only 3.5 percent the next year. In
fact, they rose 2.6 percent. A journalist who studied the accuracy of economic forecasts
observed in 1995, “Over the past couple of years, inflation has been consistently lower than
expected in Britain and America.”35
So strong was the decline of prices by 1996 that several leading economists asserted that the
age of inflation was at an end. American economist Lester Thurow called it an “extinct
volcano.” British economist Roger Bootle wrote thoughtfully about “the death of inflation” and
a coming “zero-era.” Japanese economists and businessmen spoke more ominously of “price
destruction.” These judgments were premature. Prices continued to rise in most nations, though
at a slower pace. Inflation was still institutionalized in economic systems.36
On the other side, central bankers continued to act on the belief that inflation was still the
greatest danger. When economic systems showed signs of reviving, they raised interest rates,
slowed expansion of the money supply, and “cooled” economies in other ways. For many
years, central bankers had functioned as heroic inflation-fighters. Reflexive inflation-fighting
was also institutionalized in economic systems—more so than inflation itself.
The results were the same as before. In 1996, inflation was declining, but far from dead. Anti-
inflationary policies added to the miseries that inflation itself had caused. The consequences
continued in the 1990s: falling real wages, rising inequality, diminished economic growth, and
increasing instability in political and social systems.
All that was happening in the Spring of 1996, when this book went to press. The end of the
story has not been written. It could end in many different ways. So fragile were the major
trends that contingencies of various kinds threatened to disrupt them. A major war in the
Middle East or eastern Europe or some other trouble spot could reignite inflation. A collapse
of overvalued security markets could cause panic, depression and deep deflation.
In a time of crisis, when so many possibilities were hanging in the narrow balance, much
depended on the wisdom of our choices. Wise choices in turn required intelligent leaders and
informed electorates. But intelligence and wisdom and even the information that we needed
most were not much in evidence in national capitals throughout the world.
As the great wave of the twentieth century approached its climax, the condition of many nations
called to mind a Melville novel, or perhaps a Masefield poem. The ship of state raced onward,
through high seas and heavy weather. All sails were set, and her helm was lashed to the course
that she had long been steering. On the quarterdeck, several parties of myopic navigators
squinted dimly at the dark clouds behind them. Somewhere below was their amiable captain,
who wanted mainly to be loved by his sullen crew. The first-class passengers amused
themselves in their opulent cabins, knowing little of the suffering in steerage, and nothing of the
dangers that surrounded them. On deck amidships, a lone bookish traveler turned his collar
against the wind, leaned precariously across the lee rail, and tried to read the signs in the sky.
CONCLUSION
Between Past and Future
WORKS ON THIS subject often end with a book of Revelations, or at least a chapter of
Jeremiah, in which the reader is warned that we are heading for disaster—unless the author’s
ideas are speedily enacted. These dark prophecies find a growing market with modern readers,
who appear to have an insatiable appetite for predictions of their own impending doom.
Even when prophecies fail, they are merely updated and sell briskly once again. They call
to mind the career of the Reverend Samuel Miller, a Baptist minister in nineteenth century New
England, who predicted that the world would end no later than December 31, 1843. When the
fatal day approached, the Prophet discovered an error in his computations. He announced that
the last trump had been rescheduled to March 21, 1844. His followers grew to many hundreds.
They donned special “resurrection robes” and gathered to await the day of judgment. But
Samuel Miller found another mistake in his arithmetic, and postponed the end of the world
once again, this time to October 22, 1844. The faithful were undeterred. Their numbers rose so
high that on the appointed day, business came to a halt in parts of New England. But Samuel
Miller revised his numbers yet again and went on prophesying until his end arrived—without
warning—in 1849.2
Those who believe that the economic future has been revealed to them should remember
the story of Samuel Miller. They might also reflect on the wisdom of John Kenneth Galbraith,
who observes that “the most common qualification of the economic forecaster is not in
knowing, but in not knowing that he does not know. His greatest advantage is that all
predictions, right or wrong, are soon forgotten.”3
Historians have special reasons for caution, for they will recall the fate of earlier
attempts to know the future. They also have problems enough with the past. Further, they
understand that predictions fail not because historical knowledge is limited, but because of the
nature of history itself.
We are not merely the objects of history but also its agents. The future is determined
partly by free choices that people willfully make, often in unexpected ways. These human
choices are not always rational. They flow from hopes and fears, truths and errors, memories
and dreams. They are unpredictable, and sometimes unimaginable, before they are made.
The history of prices offers many examples. No economic forecaster could have predicted
(or even imagined) that a president as conservative as Richard Nixon would become a convert
to Keynesian economics in 1971, or that a president as liberal as Jimmy Carter would adopt
conservative fiscal policies in 1978, or that any president in his right mind would have
embraced the “supply-side” nostrums called Reaganomics in 1981. Each of these individual
choices made a difference in the history of prices. All of them were freely made—sometimes
defiantly against reason, interest and the economic odds. As long as this is so, history will
never be a predictive science.4
Nevertheless, if powers of prophecy are denied to us, there are other important links
between the past and future. The study of history can never tell us with certainty what will
happen next, but it gives us the benefit of much hard-won experience in the past. It also helps
us to know our intentions for the future. To those ends, let us review the patterns that we have
found, and think of the choices before us.
Sequential Differences
Even as all price-revolutions shared a common wave-structure, they differed from one another
in duration, magnitude, and range. These differences were not random variations. They
comprised a coherent process of historical development from one great wave to the next. Since
the twelfth century, price-revolutions have succeeded one another in a continuous sequence of
historical change.
Several sequential patterns of this sort can be identified. The most obvious was a change
in rates of change. From one wave to the next, average annual rates of price-inflation tended to
increase geometrically: 0.5 percent in the price-revolution of the thirteenth century; a little
above I percent in the very long wave of the sixteenth century; nearly 2 percent in the shorter
wave of the eighteenth century; and at least 4 percent in the price-revolution of the twentieth
century. This acceleration was caused by the expansion of markets, and by the
institutionalization of price-increases.5
Second, as rates of change increased, a larger proportion of total price gains became
concentrated in the later stages of each price-revolution. In the medieval price-revolution,
absolute magnitudes of gain were comparatively even in their distribution through time. In the
price-revolution of the twentieth century, more than half of the total increase in prices from
1896 to 1996 happened after 1970. Nine-tenths of it came after 1945. This pattern was caused
by acceleration in rates of price-change from one price-revolution to another.6
Third, the range of annual fluctuations diminished from one wave to the next. In the
medieval price-revolution, these gyrations were very violent and dangerous, mainly as a
consequence of changing harvest conditions. Food prices tended also to be less stable when
people lived closer to the margin of subsistence. In each subsequent price-revolution, those
movements became less extreme, and fluctuations were damped down. The growth of
production created surpluses, which functioned as price-cushions. The expansion of markets
and the improvement of communications also diminished the disruptive effect of local
scarcities and seasonal oscillations.
Fourth, from one wave to another, the final stage of cultural crisis became progressively
less catastrophic. The medieval price-revolution ended in the massive famines and epidemics
of the fourteenth century. The second wave culminated in the general crisis of the seventeenth
century. This was the only period after the Black Death when the population of Europe
declined, but not as much as in the fourteenth century. The third wave had its climax in an age
of world revolutions (1776–1815), a time of many troubles, but population continued to
increase. The price-revolution of the twentieth century has yet to reach its climax.
Fifth, as each successive crisis grew less severe in demographic terms, it became more
sweeping in its social consequences. Every general crisis caused a social revolution, and the
radicalism of these events increased through time. The crisis of the fourteenth century did much
to end villeinage in western Europe, and to transform societies based on conquest and
subjugation into customary systems of orders and estates. The general crisis of the seventeenth
century transformed political systems and expanded the rule of law in Britain, America and
Europe. The revolutionary crisis of the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries (1776–1815)
made public institutions in America and Europe more responsive to the will of the people, and
more protective of their individual rights. It also transformed systems of social orders into
classes. The great wave of the twentieth century has not yet reached its end, but it has already
caused the collapse of totalitarian systems of the left (eastern Europe) and the right (Latin
America), as well as sweeping social and economic reforms in many nations. Every general
crisis in modern history has improved the condition of ordinary people. It has also enlarged
ideas of human dignity, freedom, and the rule of law. This tendency has become more powerful
in each successive wave.
To summarize, each price-revolution developed through five stages: slow beginnings in a
period of high prosperity; a period of surge and decline; a time of discovery and
institutionalization; an era of growing imbalances and increasing instability; and finally a
general crisis. The climax was followed by a fall of prices, recovery of stability, and a long
period of comparative price equilibrium. The social and cultural impact of these movements
changed from one great wave to another. Velocity increased and variability declined. Each
successive price-revolution became less catastrophic in its demographic consequences, but
more sweeping in its social impact.
Economic Policy
The growth of knowledge might help us to invent better instruments for the management of
modern economies. We have recently made much progress in that respect. During the past half-
century, many new regulatory tools have been put to work with high success.
Prominent among them are monetary tools. Major gains have been made in the design of
monetary policy, in the development of monetary institutions, and in the monetary education of
electorates and elites. The importance of all this is now very clear. A sound and disciplined
monetary policy, rigorously applied, is fundamental to the health of a modern economy.
Important progress has been made in the use of interest rates as a way of regulating an
economic system. This method was first applied on a large scale by the Federal Reserve
Board as recently as 1966. In three decades it has become an indispensable instrument of
economic policy throughout the world.
We have been less successful in the realm of fiscal policy—that is, the use of public
revenue and public spending as tools of economic planning. Here we were doing better a
generation ago. The fiscal problems today are more nearly intractable, and solutions remain
elusive. In the United States, the nadir of fiscal policy was reached during the Reagan
administration (1981-89), when a Democratic Congress and a Republican presidency
combined to create a larger national debt than did all other presidencies put together. We
learned painfully from that experience; both the Bush and Clinton presidencies have done at
least a little better. But major fiscal problems remain. They are compounded by demagogues of
both the right and left, by irresponsible and cynical journalists, and by millions of Americans
who demand low taxes and high services at the same time. We must urgently put our fiscal
house in order, if we wish to recover the use of an economic instrument that helps in many
ways.
Existing monetary and fiscal tools are all necessary instruments of economic policy—but
they are not sufficient to the task at hand. They are powerful weapons, and yet very blunt and
crude. Sometimes their use has been counterproductive. When inflation threatens, for example,
central bankers seek to “cool” the economy in various ways—commonly, by driving up interest
rates. The side effects of these methods are sometimes worse than the problems they are meant
to solve.
Part of the problem are the central bankers who have tried to control inflation by “cooling
an overheated economy” and even by creating deliberate “policy recessions.” They bring to
mind physicians in the eighteenth century who sought to heal their patients by bleeding,
sweating, blistering, and purging. The remedy was sometimes more destructive than the
disease. In Europe and America, anti-inflationary policies have reduced economic growth,
diminished real wages, and increased inequities of many kinds. We can do better.
An important first step is to study the historical dynamics of a price revolution. To do so
is to discover, for example, that great waves did their worst social and economic damage not
by long, slow inflations but by short, sudden price-surges, which always developed in the late
stages of every price-revolution. Wages commonly fell behind prices mostly in surge periods.
Crime waves developed in the same way. These surge-patterns are an opportunity as well as a
problem. They allow the application of strong but carefully targeted policies and tools for
short periods and specific purposes when surges are developing.
Two such tools come quickly to mind. Price surges of specific commodities could be
diminished by the use of commodity reserves. Stockpiles of major commodities might be
expanded on the model of the American strategic oil reserve, and used to cushion sudden price
shocks. Such an instrument would have little effect on long-term inflation, but it might dampen
destructive surges more effectively than indiscriminate methods of “cooling the economy” or
“policy recessions.” This is not merely hypothetical. During the Gulf War, President Bush used
successfully a small part of the Petroleum Reserve that way. President Clinton did so again on
April 29, 1996, in the face of surging gas prices. The amounts of oil released were small by
the measure of consumption, but the impact was larger than experts expected. We might
organize a new Federal Commodity Board, to deliver our political leaders from temptation in
election years.
Another tool of economic management would be a standby system of price controls,
carefully designed for limited, short-term use in periods of sudden price surge. It is often
repeated that price-controls “don’t work.” This economic dogma is very much mistaken. Twice
in the past half-century, short-term price-controls have worked very well in the United States
to diminish the momentum of dangerous price surges without disrupting economic growth.
With ingenuity and an open mind, economists should be able to refine these instruments
and invent others more appealing to neoclassical tastes. In a world of uncertainty we need
more refined, more controlled, and more flexible methods which in the phrase of historian
Daniel Boorstin are “open to the unexpected.” Their purpose should be to enlarge our capacity
for choice rather than to restrict it; to work with market forces rather than against them. The
important thing is to create better instruments than the crude tools we presently possess.20
Social Policy
Price-revolutions also create major social problems that require attention. Most dangerous are
material inequities that develop in the late stages of every great wave_never more so than in
our own time. From 1968 to 1996, inequality of wealth and income have increased rapidly—as
in every price-revolution since the thirteenth century. The results, then and now, were
disastrous not only for the poor who were the principal victims, but for entire social systems.
This is an urgent problem. If we neglect it, we shall pay a heavy price. The growth of material
inequality diminishes economic growth, disrupts social order, and does grave injury to the
social fabric. Everyone suffers from its effects—poor and rich alike.
All this is within our power to control. The laws and economic policies of every nation
have a strong impact on the distribution of wealth and income. One may observe their effect by
comparing one nation with another. During the mid-1980s, the poorest 20 percent of West
German families received 13 percent of household income. In the United States, the poorest 20
percent received 6 percent of household income.21
In a dynamic economy, a more equitable distribution of income and wealth might be
achieved not by confiscation or direct transfer, but by more subtle and less intrusive means. It
is not necessary to make the rich poorer, so that the poor may grow richer. There are better
ways. Expanded educational investment would help people to acquire more marketable skills
and higher-paying jobs. Enlarged housing programs might help more people own their homes.
Revised health and social security programs might shift our primary reliance from income-
subsidies at the end of life to capital-accumulation early in the life cycle. Enlightened tax
policies might halt the shift toward regressive taxes that are now falling increasingly on the
poor. Inventive employment policies could protect the right to work and promote job security
within a free labor market. With a little imagination, all this can be done by mixed public and
private effort within the frame of capitalist, free-market economics—if we have the political
will to make the effort.
Everything hinges on our political will. That in turn requires a shared sense of collective
responsibility for our economic and social condition. We are all in this together. Our
prevailing ideology stresses individual freedom and a tradition of minimal government. This
way of thinking is central to our culture, and should be, but it represents only one side of our
American heritage. The founders of our republic often wrote of the “liberty of America” and
tried to manage its affairs by collective effort. Their idea of freedom was better balanced than
ours. Our ancestors clearly understood the vital role of collective action in the cause of
freedom. It is time that we remembered too.
APPENDIX A
Price Revolutions in the Ancient World
This inquiry centered on modern Western history from the twelfth century to the present,
primarily because the sources are still very thin for other cultures and earlier periods. Only
scattered data survive from the more distant past. These materials, however limited, clearly
show that price-revolutions occurred repeatedly in ancient and early medieval history.
In the valleys of the Tigris and Euphrates, price-records survive abundantly from the
civilizations of ancient Mesopotamia. “The vast majority of excavated cuneiform tables deal
with economic activities,” writes historian Howard Farber. These sources supply much
information about prices, wages, and money through a period much longer than the span of
modern history. Farber himself studied Babylonian price movements from 1894 to 1595 B.C.
He found evidence of a price-revolution, circa 1750–1684 B.C., which closely resembled
similar events in the modern world. Price-relatives and price-wage movements were much the
same as in the four great waves that we have studied. The reign of Hammurapi (circa 1793–
1750 B.C.) coincided with the later stages of price-equilibrium, which showed the same
combination of stable or declining prices and rising wages as in the equilibria of the modern
era (Howard Farber, “A Price and Wage Study for Northern Babylonia during the Old
Babylonian Period,” Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient 21 [1978] 1–
51).
Figure 5.01 shows evidence of a price-revolution in Mesopotamia circa 1740-1680 B.C.,
when commodity prices rose sharply and wages lagged behind. This period was preceded by
an era of price-equilibrium (1840-1750 B.C.), when prices were stable or falling and real
wages rose. The last years of this equilibrium coincided with the reign of Hammurapi (1793-
1750 B.C.), with its great cultural and legal achievements. The price-index used here is
composed of prices for slaves, oil, barley, oxen, cattle, land, and house rentals. The wage
index is for wages in silver. Both indices are converted to the common base of 1750-40
B.C.=100. The source is Howard Farber, “A Price and Wage Study in Northern Babylonia
during the Old Babylonian Period,” Journal of the Social and Economic History of the Orient
21 (1978) 1-51.
In ancient Egypt, scholars have found evidence of great waves in population movements,
fluctuations of the Nile, the dynastic rhythm of Egyptian history, and the careers of individual
leaders. All of these patterns interlocked. See Angelo Segré, Circolazione monetaria e prèzzi
nel mondo antico ed in particolare Egitto (Rome, 1922); Karl Butzer, Early Hydraulic
Civilization in Egypt (Chicago, 1976).
Other studies have been made of price movements and money in Greece. Here again
historians have found evidence of recurrent price-revolutions, punctuated by periods of price-
decline and comparative price equilibrium. Greek prices appear to have been comparatively
stable during the fifth century before the birth of Christ. The troubled fourth century
experienced a price revolution. (Lydia Spaventa de Novellis, I prèzzi in Grecia e a Roma
nell’ antichità (Rome, 1934), 101–2.
Figure 5.02 reports the results of two studies, both of which find evidence of a price
revolution in the ancient world during the fourth and third centuries before the birth of Christ.
These data for Greece are from Angelo Segré, Circolazione monetaria e prèzzi nel mondo
antico ed in particolare Egitto (Rome, 1922), 164-173; and Lydia Spaventa de Novellis, I
prèzzi in Grècia e a Ròma nell’antichità (Rome, 1934), 49–53
Definitive conclusions require further study, but it is clear that price revolutions occurred
repeatedly through the past four thousand years. Their timing correlates with population
growth, cultural movements, and dynastic rhythms in ancient and early medieval history.
APPENDIX B
The Crisis of the Fourteenth Century: A World Event?
Was the medieval price-revolution limited to Western civilization, or was it a world
movement? Learned opinion is divided on this problem, and the price-records that might settle
the question are very difficult to find outside Europe for the thirteenth century. But much
empirical evidence is now available for the crisis of the fourteenth century. It suggests that
Europe was not unique in its experiences. Parallel trends with similar timing appeared in many
parts of the world.
In China, the great Sung dynasty collapsed in a prolonged time of troubles during the late
thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. From 1279 to 1367, that country was ruled by Mongols
from the steppes of Asia. China had seven emperors in thirty-eight years (1295–33). Most
ruled by terror and died by violence. This time of troubles was merely a prelude to one of the
darkest and most disastrous periods in China’s history (1333–68), when a great empire
collapsed into anarchy.
The population of China fell sharply during the fourteenth century, in a decline that
coincided with the crisis in the medieval West. The leading causes of death in Asia appear to
have been different in detail from those in Europe. China experienced its own distinctive
combination of social violence, economic collapse, political chaos, massive famine, and
catastrophic floods.
Perhaps the leading cause of suffering were the depredations of the Mongols. Their great
leader Genghis Khan once remarked, “The greatest joy is to conquer one’s enemies, to pursue
them, to seize their property, to see their daughters in tears, to ride their horses, to possess their
daughters and wives.” A Mongol minister named Bayan proposed to restore order by killing
all people named Chang, Wang, Liu, Li and Chao—the most common names in China. This
intended holocaust was beyond the capacity even of the Mongols, but large numbers were
slaughtered.
The crisis of this era was a pivot point in the history of China. Historian Mark Elvin calls
it the great “turning point in the fourteenth century.” This was an era of sweeping
transformation in Chinese culture. It was also a moment of deep change that began a long
process of isolation and decline, which continued into the twentieth century. Through that
period, price-movements showed a rhythm of long waves that were similar, though not
identical, to those in the West.
Similar rhythms also appeared in other civilizations. In Africa, the great empire of Mali
collapsed during the late fourteenth century. Its trading center at Sigilmassa was destroyed by
Taureg warriors in 1362, and commerce with Europe was interrupted.
Figure 5.06 finds evidence of great waves in the demographic history of China. Sharp declines
occurred in the fourteenth and seventeenth centuries. The timing was much the same as in
Europe. Sources include Ping-ti Ho, Studies on the Population of China, 1368-1953
(Cambridge, 1959).
In India, the Delhi Sultanate of Turko-Afghan rulers had grown from the eleventh century
to its maximum under Sultan Muhammad bin Tughluq (1325-51), when it ruled nearly all the
Indian subcontinent except the extreme south. After 1334, it rapidly disintegrated; by 1344, its
revenues had fallen by 90 percent, and the Delhi Sultanate disintegrated.
The fourteenth century was also a period of major discontinuity in American history. In
the Valley of Mexico, the classic Toltec culture collapsed in this period. The Aztecs, who like
the Mongols and the Taureg were violent barbarians from the north, took possession of Lake
Texcoco circa 1345. In South America, the pre-Inca states disintegrated in the fourteenth
century and gave the Incas their opportunity to begin to create their great empire in the late
fourteenth and early fifteenth centuries.
In the Pacific, the fourteenth century was also an important pivot-point for the history of
oceanic cultures. The expansion of Polynesia, which had begun as early as the ninth century,
came to a sudden end in the fourteenth century. The great Polynesian navigators had advanced
as far as New Zealand, but they were unable to go farther, and failed to reach Tasmania and
Australia.
There was no Black Death or Mongol horde in Polynesia. The research of New Zealand
scientist A. T. Wilson yields evidence that the cause may have been a change in climate. His
analysis of isotope ratios in calcium carbonate deposits shows evidence of an onset of an
unusually cold period, with increased Pacific storms of such a magnitude as to deter even
ocean voyagers as skilled as the Polynesians.
These global events tell us that their ætiology was not specific to a single culture, or to a
particular agent such as the Black Death. They must have developed from a larger cause that
affected virtually every part of the inhabited world.
Some historians find evidence of a change in world climate during the fourteenth century.
During the preceding three hundred years—the tenth, eleventh and twelfth centuries—the
weather had become increasingly warm. The growing season grew longer, crops became
larger, and the carrying capacity of the environment increased. In the later years of the
thirteenth century, these climatic trends reversed. The climate turned unusually cold, wet,
windy and unstable.
The fact that these trends appeared as far apart as northern Europe, eastern Asia, western
Africa and the south Pacific is evidence that the cause is unlikely to have been merely a change
in meteorological circulation patterns, as some have suspected. Others believe that it rose from
a change in the relationship between the earth and the sun—a decline in solar radiation, or
perhaps a thickening of the earth’s atmosphere, or possibly a cloud of cosmic dust that passed
through the galaxy and blocked the passage of energy from the sun to the earth.
Some cultures suffered more than others in this era of crisis and catastrophe. The
Christian West may have suffered worst of all. Here we find evidence that climate-events may
be part of the explanation, but not the whole of it. Other causal factors, perhaps of greater
power, were internal to the western culture, and important to the rhythm of its history.
Further, some cultures emerged stronger from the catastrophe of the fourteenth century
while others were fatally weakened. During the fourteenth century, Islamic world-civilization
entered a long decline from which it did not begin to recover until the twentieth century, nearly
six hundred years later. The West was unique in its response to the crisis of the fourteenth
century, though not in the crisis itself. Its open institutions made it more vulnerable, but also
more resilient. The sources of its vulnerability in the fourteenth century were also the
foundation of its future strength.
For relevant materials in the history of China, see Ping-ti Ho, Studies on the Population
of China, 1368–1953 (Cambridge, 1959, 1967); Mark Elvin, The Pattern of the Chinese
Past: A Social and Economic Interpretation (Stanford, 1973); R. Hartwell, “A Cycle of
Economic Change in Imperial China: Coal and Iron in North-east China, 750–1350,” Journal
of the Economic and Social History of the Orient 10 (1967); M. Cartier, “Notes sur l’histoire
des prix en Chine du XIVe au XVIIe siècle,” Annales E.S.C. 24 (1969) 1876–89; idem, “Les
importations de métaux monetaires en Chine: Essai sur la conjoncture chinoise,” ibid., 36
(1981) 454-66; P. Liu and K. Huang, “Population Change and Economic Development in
Mainland China since 1400,” in C. Hou and T. Yu, eds., Modern Chinese Economic History
(Taipei, 1977), 61–81; C. P. Fitzgerald, China, A Short Cultural History (New York, 1935,
1972), 432; Ch’uan Han-sheng, “Sung-Ming chien pai-yin kou-mai-li ti pientung chi ch’i yuan-
yin” [“Fluctuations in the purchasing power of silver at their cause from the Sung to the Ming
dynasties”], Hsin-ya-hseuh-pao [New Asian Journal] 8 (1967) 157–86, with a summary in
English; M. Cartier, “Notes sur l’histoire des prix en Chine du XIVe au XVIIe siècle,” [1368-
1644] Annales E.S.C. 24(1969) 1876-89; idem, “Lesimportationsde métaux monetaires en
Chine: Essai sur la conjoncture Chinoise,” ibid., 36 (1981) 454-66; W. S. Atwell, “Notes on
Silver, Foreign Trade, and the Late Ming Economy,” Ch’ing shih wen-ti 3 (1977) 1–33; idem
“International Bullion Flows and the Chinese Economy, circa 1530–1650,” Past & Present 95
(1982) 68–90; P. Liu and K. Huang, “Population Change and Economic Development in
Mainland China since 1400,” in C. Hou and T. Yu, eds., Modern Chinese Economic History
(Taipei, 1977), 61-81; Yeh–chien Wang, “The Secular Trend of Prices during the Ch’ing
Period,” Journal of the Institute of Chinese Studies of the Chinese University of Hong Kong,
5 (1972) 364.
For Africa, see M. Malowist, “The Social and Economic Stability of the Western Sudan
in the Middle Ages,” Past & Present 33 (1966) 3-15; E. W. Bovill, The Golden Trade of the
Moors (Oxford, 1958); J. Devisse, “Routes de Commerce et échanges en Afrique occidentale
en relation avec la Méditerranée,” Revue d’histoire économique et sociale 1 (1972) 42–73,
357–97.
For evidence of a global change in climate, see A. T. Wilson, “Isotope Evidence for Past
Climatic and Environmental Change,” Journal of Interdisciplinary History 10 (1980) 241–50.
APPENDIX C
The Seventeenth Century: A World Crisis?
In the year 1649, an English pamphleteer invented a fictional “interview” in the Elysian Fields
between two newly arrived heads of state: Charles I of England and the Sultan Ibraham, who
had been emperor of the Ottoman Turks. Both had just been executed by their angry subjects.
The shades of these murdered monarchs met in the afterworld, and commiserated with one
another on their common fate. (Lord Kinross, Ottoman Centuries; The Rise and Fall of the
Turkish Empire [New York, 1977], 19, 317).
Other rulers might well have joined that ghostly conversation. More than a few met
violent ends during the general crisis of the seventeenth century. This event was not limited to
Europe. It developed in every part of the inhabited world.
China’s Ming dynasty, which had come to power in the crisis of the fourteenth century,
collapsed in the seventeenth century. Its disintegration was so complete that a bandit chieftain
named Lu Tzu-ch’eng took control of the capital city of Beijing. The humiliation of the ruling
dynasty was so great that the last Ming emperor hanged himself in 1644. During the mid-
seventeenth century, the Chinese people suffered severely from famine, disease and disorder.
Demographic evidence shows clearly that these were not routine miseries of a sort that were
visited upon every generation. The population of China fell in the seventeenth century for the
first time since the crisis of the fourteenth century—a pattern very similar to that in Europe.
India also experienced a time of troubles in the same period. Here too, the early
seventeenth century was an era of economic stagnation, rising prices, falling population,
growing inequality, hunger and pestilence. In 1616, bubonic plague returned to the
subcontinent. Millions of Indians sickened and starved while the Mogul emperor Shah Jahan
(1628–58) built the beautiful Taj Mahal at great expense for his wife—a testament of private
love and material inequality. In 1658 Shah Jahan was deposed and imprisoned. After his death
in that same year, a civil war broke out among his sons. Religious strife became intense, and
the Mogul Empire began to disintegrate. This event opened the way for European conquest of
the Indian subcontinent.
In sub-Saharan Africa, the Bornu Empire and the Mangding Empire both collapsed. In the
Middle East, the Persian Empire began to disintegrate after the death of the great Shah Abbas
(1587–1629). The Ottoman Empire decayed rapidly in the reign of Sultan Murad the Maniac, a
sadistic madman who ruled from 1623 to 1640. He was followed by Ibrahim the Wretched,
who went quietly insane. In 1648, the unfortunate Ibrahim was overthrown and executed—
hence his Elysian conversation with Charles I, who was beheaded in 1649.
Persistent unrest also occurred in the American colonies of New England, New France,
Virginia, New Spain, New Netherland, Brazil, and the Caribbean islands. The strife that
developed in the New World throughout the seventeenth century has been interpreted by
colonial historians in parochial ways, as consequences of local events. These events were also
part of global trends in the period from 1618 to 1650. The crisis of the seventeenth century was
a time of troubles throughout the world.
APPENDIX D
America and Europe: One Conjuncture or Two?
In 1963, a leading economic historian posed a problem about the movement of prices in
America and Europe. Ruggiero Romano suggested that major pricetrends in the Old World
were fundamentally different from those in the New World. In his own pathbreaking inquiries
into the economic history of Latin America, he reported evidence that during the eighteenth
century prices were stagnant in the Spanish and Portuguese colonies, that a chronic shortage of
money existed, and capital accumulation and economic growth lagged behind Europe. From
this pattern Romano concluded that there was an “inverse movement of prices in Ibero-
America and Europe.” He also suggested that New France and British America were similar to
Latin America in their price trends. See Ruggiero Romano, “Movimento de los precios y
desarrollo económico: El caso de Sudamérica en el siglo XVIII,” Desarrollo Económico 3
(1963) 31–43; and idem, “Some Considerations on the History of Prices in Colonial Latin
America,” in Lyman L. Johnson and Enrique Tandeter, eds., Essays on the Price History of
Eighteenth-Century Latin America (Albuquerque, 1990), 35–71.
Romano’s pioneering thesis has inspired much research on the price history of Latin
America during the eighteenth century. The evidence is now beginning to flow in some
abundance. Most of it suggests that latin American price movements were a variation on
European trends, but not an inverse pattern.
The debate centers on the eighteenth century. In that period, the reader will remember that
European prices had shown no upward trend until the decade 1730–40. Thereafter they rose
until the early nineteenth century, In the Spanish and Portuguese colonies, prices fell or
remained on the same level until 1750, and continued to do so in some places such as Salvador
and Potosi until as the 1780s. But in Mexico, Chile, and other parts of Latin America, prices
were generally rising from yhe 1760s. By the late 1780s, the pricerevolution of the eighteenth
century was operating broadly there. Historian John Coatsworth writes of Latin America in
general that “in all cases for which there are data, commodity prices were rising in the 1790s
and during the war years that followed.” See John H. Coatsworth, “Economic History and the
History of Prices,” in Johnson and Tandeter, eds., Essays on the price History of Eighteenth-
Century Latin America, 22.
In New France, price-trends were very similar, with a rising tendency during the late
eighteenth century, and surges during the period from 1793 to 1817. See F. Ouellet and J.
Hamelin, Le mouvement des prix agricoles dans la province de Quebec (1760-1815) (n.p.,
n.d.;idem, “Lacrise agricoledans le Bas-Canada,” Etudes Rurales 7 (1962) 36–57.
In the United States, many inquiries have found the same trends and timing as in western
Europe. This pattern appears in the wholesale price indices of Warren and Pearson, the
research of Arthur Cole, in the Bezanson index of wholesale prices in Philadelphia, and the
Taylor index of wholesale prices in Charleston, South Carolina. Similar patterns also appear
in the research of Winifred Rothenberg on agricultural prices in New England. The evidence
appears in George F. Warren and Frank A. Pearson, Prices (New York, 1933), 11-27; Arthur
H. Cole, Wholesale Commodity Prices in the United States, 1700–1861 (Cambridge, 1938)
153–67; Anne Bezanson, Robert D. Gray and Miriam Hussey, Wholesale Prices in
Philadelphia, 1749–1861 (Philadelphia, 1936), 392; George Rogers Taylor, “Wholesale
Commodity Prices at Charleston, S.C., 1732–1791,” Journal of Economic History 4 (1932)
356-77; idem, “Wholesale Commodity Prices at Charleston, S.C., 1796–1861,” ibid.,
supplement, 848–68; Winifred Rothenberg, From Market Places to a Market Economy; The
Transformation of Rural Massachusetts, 1750–1850 (Chicago, 1992); idem, “The Market and
Massachusetts Farmers, 1750-1855,” Journal of Economic History 41 (1981) 283–314; idem,
“A Price Index for Rural Massachusetts, 1750–1855,” ibid. 39 (1979) 975–1001.
Price series in some parts of Latin America come closer to the Romano model, and
everywhere there were differences between colonial price movements and those of Europe.
Small markets for locally traded commodities showed various idiosyncracies. Prices
movements for manufactured products moved differently in the early years of colonial history.
The dependency of many colonies on the price of a single dominant staple crop caused
differences as well. But these patterns were variations on the central theme. Throughout the
Atlantic world in the eighteenth century there was one great conjuncture, not two.
APPENDIX E
Cycles and Waves
Frank Manuel once remarked that every idea of history comes down to either the circle or the
line. One might add that most models of price history are either the cycle or the wave. This
inquiry centers on a wave-model, which has become increasingly dominant in the literature,
because it solves many conceptual problems. In historical scholarship, waves of the past are
the wave of the future.
Most early research on recurrent price movements was very different in its purpose. It
was mainly a search for cycles rather than waves. Many scholars have gone looking for cycles
in price movements, and few have been disappointed. Learned journals called Cycles, Kyklos,
Futures, and Technological Forecasting and Social Change have published essays that report
evidence of many different cyclical rhythms in modern history. They include Kondratieff cycles
(with a period of fifty years), Kuznets “long swings” (twenty to twenty-five years), Labrousse
“intercycles” (ten to twelve years), Juglar trade cycles (seven to eight years), and Kitchin
business cycles (three to four years).
The largest and most controversial literature is about Kondratieff cycles, which are
sometimes mistakenly called long waves. They are thought to have caused major depressions
every half century, circa 1815, 1870, 1929, and 1970. The seminal monograph was written by
Nikolai D. Kondratieff, head of the Moscow Institute for Business Cycle Research, and
published in Russian in 1925. A German translation appeared as “Die langen Wellen der
Konjunktur,” Archiv für Sozialwissenschaft und Sozialpolitik 56 (1926) 573–609. An
abridged English translation was published in The Review of Economic Statistics 17 (1935)
161–72. A complete English text is in Review 2 (1979) 519–62. The model was elaborated by
Kondratieff in The Long Wave Cycle (1928, rpt., New York, 1984).
As Kondratieff himself was careful to point out, similar models had been put forward by
A. Spiethoff in Handwörterbuch der Staatswissenschaft (1923). They had also been
discussed by two Dutch socialists: S. de Wolff in “Prosperitats-und Depressionsperioden,”
Lebendige Marxismus (Jena, 1924); and even earlier by C. van Gelderen, “Springvloed:
Beschouwingen over industrieele ontwikkeling en Prijsbeweging,” De Niewe Tijd 18 (1913).
Marxist critics, including Trotsky and many Old Bolsheviks, condemned Kondratieff
cycles as an economic heresy. In 1930, Kondratieff was sent to Siberia, where he died in a
Communist concentration camp. See Richard B. Day, “The Theory of Long Waves:
Kondratieff, Trotsky, and Mandel,” New Left Review 99 (1976) 67–82. An excellent
historiographical essay on the diffusion of Kondratieff’s work is Jean-Louis Escudier,
“Kondratieff et l’histoire économique Française,” Annates E.S.C. 48 (1993) 359–83.
French and German historians have always been much interested in Kondratieff cycles,
more so than their American and British colleagues. Extended discussions include Gaston
Imbert, Des mouvements de longue durée Kondratieff (Aix en Provence, 1959), and Ulrich
Weinstock, Das Problem der Kondratieff-Zyklen (Berlin, 1964).
In the English-speaking world, historians have contributed comparatively little to this
subject, but social scientists have written at length upon it. Interest surged during the 1930s in
works such as Joseph Schumpeter, Business Cycles (New York, 1939); then declined, and
revived in the 1970s. The best introduction to a large literature is Joshua S. Goldstein, Long
Cycles: Prosperity and War in the Modern Age (New Haven, 1988), a careful, honest and
thought-provoking work which analyzes 33 attempts by various scholars to test the existence of
the Kondratieff cycle, mostly with positive results. Goldstein’s excellent bibliography also
lists hundreds of works, not so much by historians, but by political scientists and sociologists
on various aspects of this question. For other discussions, see Donald V. Etz, “The Kondratieff
Wave: A Review,” Cycles (1973) 73–74; J. J. Van Duijn, The Long Wave in Economic Life
(1979, rpt., Boston, 1983); John C. Soper, The Long Swing in Historical Perspective (New
York, 1978); Casper Van Ewijk, “A Spectral Analysis of the Kondratieff Cycle,” Kyklos 35
(1982) 468–99; T. Kitwood, “A Farewell Wave to the Theory of Long Waves,” Universities
Quarterly — Culture, Education and Society 38 (1984) 158–78; Irma Adelman, “Long
Cycles: Fact or Artifact?” American Economic Review 55 (1965) 444–63; R. Hamil, “Is the
Wave of the Future a Kondratieff?” Futurist 13 (1979) 381-84; J. P. Harkness, “A Spectral
Analysis of the Long Swing Hypothesis in Canada,” Review of Economics and Statistics 50
(1968) 429–36; Rainer Metz, “‘Long Waves’ in English and German Economic Historical
Series from the Middle of the Sixteenth to the Middle of the Twentieth Century,” in Rainer
Fremdling and Patrick K. O’Brien, eds., Productivity in the Economies of Europe (Stuttgart,
1983) 175–219; idem, “Long Waves in Coinage and Grain PriceSeries from the Fifteenth to the
Eighteenth Century,” Review 7 (1984) 599–647; Paolo S. Labini, “Le problème des cycles
économiques de longue durée,” Economie appliquée 3 (1950) 481–95; Jos. Delbeke, “Recent
Long-Wave Theories: A Critical Survey,” Futures 13 (1981) 246–57; M. N. Cleary and G. D.
Hobbs, “The Fifty-Year Cycle: A Look at the Empirical Evidence,” in Christopher Freeman,
ed., Long Waves in the World Economy (London, 1983); Heinz-Deiter Haustein and Erich
Neuwirth, “Long Waves in World Industrial Production, Energy Consumption, Innovations,
Inventions and Patents and Their Identification by Spectral Analysis,” Technological
Forecasting and Social Change 22 (1982) 53–89; Ghalib M. Baqir, “The Long Wave Cycles
and Re-Industrialization,” International Journal of Social Economics 8 (1981) 117–23; K.
Eklund, “Long Waves in the Development of Capitalism?” Kyklos 33 (1980) 383-419; Hans
Bieshaar and Alfred Kleinknecht, “Kondratieff Waves in Aggregate Output?” Konjunktur
Politik 30 (1984); David M. Gordon, “Stages of Accumulation and Long Economic Cycles,” in
Terence K. Hopkins and Immanuel Wallerstein, eds., Processes of the World System (Beverly
Hills, Calif., 1980); Alfred Kleinknecht, “Innovation, Accumulation and Crisis: Waves in
Economic Development,” Review 4 (1981) 683-711; Ernest Mandel, Long Waves of Capitalist
Development (Cambridge, 1980).
The literature on Kondratieff’s long cycles, for all its abundance, has a shallow empirical
base. Many historians continue to doubt the very existence of Kondratieff cycles. Skepticism
centers on the period from 1873 to 1893, for if the economic downturns in those years were no
more severe than those of 1819, 1826, 1837 and 1859, then the Kondratieff pattern loses much
of its salience and most of its shape. See S. B. Saul, The Myth of the Great Depression, 1873–
1896 (London, 1896); and Solomos Solomou, “Kondratieff Waves in the World Economy,
1850–1913,” Journal of Economic History 46 (1986) 165-69.
Another weakness appeared in the 1970s when many Kondratieff-minded scholars
predicted a “coming collapse of capitalism” that stubbornly refused to come, despite many dire
warnings. See, e.g., Jay W. Forrester, “We’re Headed for Another Depression,” Fortune Jan.
16, 1978; Geoffrey Barraclough, “The End of an Era,” New York Review of Books 21 (1974)
14–20; and Cesare Marchetti, “Recession 1983: Ten More Years To Go?” Technological
Forecasting and Social Change 24 (1983) 331–42.
Evidence for a Kondratieff pattern in earlier periods of history is even weaker than in the
modern era. Kondratieff himself believed that his cycles did not occur before 1790. Other
scholars have claimed to find evidence of the same rhythm throughout the modern and even the
medieval era, but the empirical evidence is very soft.
My own judgment is that a cycle of approximately fifty or sixty years does in fact appear
in many social indicators, and has been confirmed by various statistical methods including
business cycle analysis, trend deviation, moving averages, and spectral analysis, to name but a
few. But this pattern is not stronger than other cyclical rhythms, and it is much weaker than the
secular trend with which it is sometimes confused. Kondratieff’s “long wave” may be merely a
multiple of generational “long swings,” which move round the secular trend and vary broadly
from one swing to the next in timing and intensity. Much of the energy devoted by American
social scientists to the study of the Kondratieff cycle has been misdirected. Their efforts might
be more usefully applied to the examination of recurrent wave-like secular trends which have
more solid foundations in historical fact, though less predictive power.
Shorter cycles of thirty years also have been found in farm prices and harvest fluctuations
by Beveridge, Goubert, and many recent writers on the world economy in the twentieth century.
This pattern is sometimes (but not always) associated with solar activity. It has not been
rigorously tested and is not generally accepted by most economists or historians today. But it
keeps being rediscovered in descriptive studies. Cf. Stanley Jevons, “The Solar Period and the
Price of Corn,” in Jevons, ed., Investigations in Currency and Finance (London, 1884).
Kuznets cycles or “long swings” of approximately twenty years have been much
discussed by American economists, but this pattern has not been so interesting to European
scholars or so visible in the history of their nations. See Simon Kuznets, Secular Movements
in Production and Prices (Boston, 1930); “Long Swings in the Growth of Population and
Related Economic Variables,” Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society 102
(1958) 25–52; Arthur F. Burns, Production Trends in the United States since 1970 (New
York, 1934); Moses Abramowitz, “Resource and Output Trends in the United States since
1870,” American Economic Review 46 (1956) 5–23; Brinley Thomas, Migration and
Economic Growth (Cambridge, 1954); John C. Soper, “Myth and Reality in Economic Time
Series: The Long Swing Revisited,” Southern Economic Journal 41 (1975) 570–79. This
rhythm is sometimes thought to be demographic in its origin, but Friedman and Schwartz argue
in Monetary Trends in the United States and United Kingdom, 599–621, that long swings are
episodic in their origin and monetary in their expression. Many economists agree with them.
The Labrousse cycle (or intercycle) of roughly 10 or 12 years is much favored by
European historians but rarely appears in American scholarship. It has been used in studies of
French history.
Juglar cycles or trade cycles (7 or 8 years) have been found by many scholars—by
Goubert in Beauvais, Parenti in Tuscany, Spooner in Udine, Hauser in Paris. The classic work
is Clément Juglar, Des crises commerciales et leur retour périodiques en France, en
Angleterre, et aux Etats-Unis (1889) rpt. New York, 1967).
Kitchin cycles or business cycles (3.5 years, or forty months) were first observed in the
American economy during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, and also in Europe during our
own time. The classical text is Joseph Kitchin, “Cycles and Trends in Economic Factors,”
Review of Economics and Statistics 5 (1923) 10–16. They are sometimes called “inventory
cycles” and are thought to rise from the structure of modern business enterprise. But several
historians have also reported them in price data as early as the fifteenth century, and Pierre
Chaunu has discovered them in the rhythm of Séville’s transatlantic trade.
For general discussions of business cycles, see Wesley C. Mitchell, Business Cycles
(New York, 1927); Arthur F. Burns and Wesley C. Mitchell, Measuring Business Cycles (New
York, 1946); Joseph A. Schumpeter, Business Cycles: A Theoretical, Historical and
Statistical Analysis of the Capitalist Process (New York, 1939); Geoffrey H. Moore, The
Cyclical Behavior of Prices (Washington, 1971). Historians will find a rapport with E. R.
Dewey and E. F. Dakin, Cycles: The Science of Prediction (New York, 1950), which argues
that these rhythms are themselves variable through time and space—a conclusion that is
certainly correct.
Cyclical patterns are often extracted from the data by “detrending” a time series—that is,
by removing the secular trend so as to expose fluctuations more clearly. The great waves in
this work are not extracted by filtering or detrending the data. They are the secular trends, and
appear on the surface of the evidence. For problems of method, leading works are James D.
Hamilton, Time Series Analysis (Princeton, 1994), and T. W. Anderson, The Statistical
Analysis of Time Series (New York, 1971). Also helpful is Nathaniel J. Mass, Economic
Cycles: An Analysis of Underlying Causes (Cambridge, Mass., 1975).
APPENDIX F
Toward a Discrimination of Inflations
The many uses of the word “inflation” make an interesting study in scholarly semantics. The
term has been defined in different ways. Some of the most common meanings incorporate a
particular theory of inflation in such a way as to exclude all other theories. The result is a
family of mutually contradictory theory-driven definitions. Each of them claims a universal
validity. All are more unitary than the phenomenon that they purport to describe.
An amusing example appears in Webster’s New World Dictionary. The second college
edition of this work offers two contradictory theory-centered definitions on the same page. The
term “inflation” itself is defined as “an increase in the amount of money in circulation,
resulting in a relatively sharp and sudden fall in its value and rise in prices.” Just below it is
“inflationary spiral,” which is defined as a “continuous and accelerating rise in the prices of
goods and services, primarily due to the interaction of increases in wages and costs.”
One of these definitions insists that inflation is exclusively a monetary phenomenon,
caused by an expansion in the money supply. The other requires us to subscribe to a “cost-
push” model. These theoretical definitions are narrow and specific. They are also mutually
exclusive. If the “cost-push” model is correct, then inflation is not always caused by an
increase in the amount of money in circulation.
Further, both definitions also include specific historical descriptions of inflation. One of
them demands that we think of inflation as “sharp and sudden.” Another insists that inflationary
spirals are “continuous and accelerating.” These historical models of inflation are not only at
odds with one another. They are also mistaken, both in general historical terms and in their
specific theoretical linkages. Monetary inflations are not necessarily “short and sharp.” Wage-
price inflations are not always “continuous and accelerating.”
These usages often recur in learned discourse. It is very common for American
economists to define the term “inflation” in exclusively monetary terms, and then to use it to
describe an historical process which is not exclusively monetary in its cause.
An example is an assertion by American economist Milton Friedman that inflation is
“always and everywhere primarily a monetary phenomenon” (New York Times, February 19,
1984). Many of his colleagues agree with this statement. There is no necessary error in it. As
long as it is confined within the constraining context of monetarist theory, Friedman’s statement
is not merely true but tautological. Given certain theoretical assumptions, a rise in prices can
always be translated into monetary terms. If the discussion were exclusively theoretical, there
is no error here. The trouble comes when the term is defined in this way, and then used to
describe the operative cause of an actual rise of prices in the real world—where price-
increases sometimes have a monetary cause, but often rise from other roots.
Outside of the learned professions, the word inflation is understood in other ways. In
ordinary speech, it tends to be an omnibus term for any sort of increase in prices generally
(which is not the same as an economist’s idea of the “general price level”).
Professional usage in the learned disciplines seems to be shifting in this direction.
Increasingly, historians and economists are growing more eclectic in their ideas of inflation.
Two economists, Paul Samuelson and William Nordhaus, write, “Like illnesses, inflations
occur for many reasons.” They divide inflations into three types, mainly by speed of advance:
“moderate inflation” as in the industrial nations during the late twentieth century (1–10
percent), “galloping inflation” as in Latin America or Israel during the same period (10–1000
percent), and “hyperinflation” as in post-Wilhelmine Germany (1000 percent or more). This
taxonomy brings to mind a mortality bill by an eighteenth-century New England physician who
believed that all forms of disease shared a single etiology, and who classified deaths as
“sudden” or “slow.” This is a primitive idea in medicine and history, but sometimes it has its
uses.
Another and better approach is to make a discrimination of price-inflations not by
velocity but by cause. Historians tend to think of inflations in pluralistic terms, as rising from a
broad variety of causal conditions. At least seven types of inflation might be distinguished by
cause.
One common variety of price inflation is caused by an expansion of the money supply.
This is sometimes a slow creeping movement. It can also become a sudden surge of
hyperinflation, of which the classic example is the German inflation of 1922–23. When the
infant Weimar Republic was unable to meet its obligations by taxes or loans, it deliberately
resorted to the printing press. The number of German marks in circulation rose from 5,807
trillion in January 1922 to 202 trillion-trillion in December 1923, a number so large that it
requires 30 digits: 202,232,341,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 marks. As a consequence, the
wholesale price index in Germany rose from 100 in 1913 to 142 trillion in 1923. German
burghers who suffered through this event told the story of a man who went to a grocery store
with a wheelbarrow full of money to pay for his family’s food. A thief stopped him, threw
away the money, and stole the wheelbarrow. What was still more dramatic about the German
inflation was its sudden end. Monetary stability was restored in 1924 by the issue of a new
currency that was very stable. The German hyperinflation of 1922–23 had many social and
political consequences, but it did not become embedded in the structure of the economy, and
disappeared when the inflated marks were withdrawn from circulation. There have been many
monetary inflations of this sort, and other monetary inflations of a more gradual variety.
A second type of inflation rises from increases in aggregate demand. One common
example is war-inflation. Government spending for military purposes has often stimulated
demand throughout an economy, at the same time that a shift of workers from productive labor
into the armed forces causes a decline in aggregate supply. Other demand-inflations have risen
from population growth, particularly when the general population increases more rapidly than
the work force. In the twentieth century, demand-inflations have also been caused by rising
expectations, and by higher standards of living.
A third form of inflation is caused by contractions in supply—for example, by runs of bad
weather which drive up agricultural prices. This happening was very common in medieval and
early modern Europe, when a large proportion of family income was spent on grain and other
farm products. The supply shock of reduced harvests reverberated through the entire economy.
A fourth variety is cost-push inflation. It occurs when wages and prices begin to spiral
upward, each driving the other in its turn. This mechanism was clearly operating in the middle
stages of the price-revolution of the twentieth century.
A fifth variety might be called the inflation of administered prices. It has happened in the
United States as a result of collusive price-fixing in oligopolistic industries. Recent examples
include the manipulation of oil prices by OPEC nations during the 1970s. Oil shocks had an
impact on general price levels through the world economy.
A sixth variety might be called bubble-inflation, caused by a surge of speculative activity,
which when it rises rapidly and reaches broadly through an economy, distorts price levels in a
general way. Examples might include the Dutch tulip mania in 1634 and the French Mississippi
Bubble in 1717.
A seventh variety might be called the “inflationary-expectations” model. It occurs when
people begin to raise prices not because of actual changes in supply or demand or costs or the
size of the money supply, but out of fear that some such change might happen.
These different types of inflation often coexist. In actual practice, price-revolutions are
complex phenomena that characteristically include many different types of inflation. Most have
begun as demand-inflations, to which the effects of monetary-inflation, supply-inflation, and
administered-inflation later added, and had the effect of reinforcing the momentum of the price
revolution.
It is interesting to observe that the effect of short-term inflations varies according to their
timing within price-revolutions and price equilibria. For example, the inflation associated with
the Civil War, the Crimean War and the Franco-Prussian Wars in the nineteenth century did not
cause a permanent elevation of price levels. Prices surged during the wars, then rapidly
declined in the peace. In the United States by the 1880s, prices had returned to levels of the
late 1850s. During the major wars of the twentieth century things were a little different.
Inflation surged after America joined the World War I in 1917, then declined after 1919, but
not to prewar levels. After World War II, Korea, and Vietnam, war-inflations were not
followed by a decline at all. Prices continued to climb. What was different here was the
underlying dynamic of the price system.
All of this suggests a need for price theory that incorporates a component of historical
thinking, and also for historical models that include a generous measure of economic theory.
Historical trends and contexts make a major difference. So also do the dynamic relationships
that are modeled in economic theory.
Economics is what Windelband called a nomothetic discipline. It seeks knowledge
through generalization. History is an idiographic discipline. It studies things in their
particulars. The two approaches are different, but also complementary. Together they can help
us understand the many varieties of price-inflation, and also their common characteristics.
APPENDIX G
Money of Exchange and Money of Account
A student of price history must confront a vast diversity of monetary units in the world—not
merely in the variety of coins and paper currency, but also in the structure of monetary systems
themselves. In the early modern era, these systems were in some ways more complex than
those of our own time.
One dimension of that complexity appeared in the difference between two types of
monies: money of exchange and money of account. Alexander Justice wrote in 1707, “Money
in general is divided into two sorts, imaginary and real.” (A General Treatise of Monies and
Exchanges [London, 1707], 1; quoted in John J. McCusker, Money and Exchange in Europe
and America, 1600–1775: A Handbook [Chapel Hill, 1978], 3).
Justice’s “real money” is money of exchange. It is issued by virtually all sovereign states
and consists of coins and paper that pass physically from hand to hand. Justice’s “imaginary
money” is called money of account. It exists only as an idea, and is used in bookkeeping and
credit transactions.
The distinction between real and imaginary money seems unnatural and absurd to
Americans today, who use the dollar as both money of exchange and as money of account. But
practices were different in earlier periods. Real money and imaginary money existed side by
side.
A case in point was eighteenth-century England, and English-speaking North America.
Money of exchange consisted primarily of two coins: the silver shilling and the golden guinea,
which was worth twenty-one shillings. There was also a silver crown (worth five shillings),
and various other coins of smaller denominations.
At the same time, the most important money of account was a different unit: the pound
sterling, worth twenty shillings or 240 pence. This was “imaginary money.” Pounds did not
actually exist as coins or paper currency until the nineteenth century, but they were the standard
money of account throughout the English-speaking world for many years. In the United States,
elderly people continued to keep their books in pounds sterling as late as the 1830s, half a
century after independence.
By the mid-nineteenth century, Americans abandoned this dual system. But even today the
people of Britain still use different money of exchange and money of account. By a curious
irony of monetary history the major units reversed their roles in Britain. The pound sterling
became the leading money of exchange—first in the form of elegant banknotes, then small and
clumsy coins of base metal that make a dreary clunking sound when dropped on a modern
plastic counter. Guineas, on the other hand, have become a money of account. They rarely
circulate but are used to reckon prices of luxury items. As recently as 1990, the author was
billed in guineas by a private physician in Harley Street, but the bill was settled by the passing
of pounds. Rolls Royce automobiles and tickets to opulent Commemoration Balls in Oxford
Colleges are priced in guineas but paid in pounds.
Dual systems of this sort were widespread in the early modern era. Their complexity was
compounded by multiple moneys of account. The great merchant banks of medieval Italy kept
their books in imaginary money of account, which had a value that was unique to each house.
This “banco money” rose and fell with the reputation of each banking house, even where
monetary units were nominally the same.
The difference in value between one money of account and another was called by Italian
bankers the aggio, or premium. That word entered common usage throughout Western world. It
was often written agio in French, German, Spanish and English, and is still used in Europe.
Money of exchange also had many complexities. It consisted mostly of silver coin in
medieval Europe. During the late medieval and early modern era a bimetallic standard was
widely adopted. Gold and silver coins were minted in great variety, but a few units of value
became common through many monetary systems. In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries,
roughly the same value attached to the French écu, the Spanish peso, the Dutch rijksdaalder, the
German Reichsthaler, and, a little later, the Yankee dollar. All were worth about five English
shillings, or one-quarter of an English pound.
England’s golden guinea (after 1726) was approximately equivalent to the French louis
d’or, which was also called the “French guinea.” Before 1726, the louis d’or and Spanish
pistole were about the same. Dutch and German ducats were roughly equal to Portuguese
escudos, at a little less than half an English pound.
All of these coins passed current in every nation. When a British general fell overboard
near Boston, his baggage was found to contain 694 5/8 joannes, 37 moidores, 300 English
guineas, 8 1/2 pistoles, 1 French guinea, 1 dollar, 1 copper halfpenny, 26 “small heart” bits of
silver, 6 pieces of gold, and 7 small pieces of silver. It was common for raw unminted lumps
of gold and silver to be used as money. Value was determined by weight of gold or silver,
measured in grains and later grams of precious metal. See W. T. Baxter, The House of
Hancock; Business in Boston, 1724–1775 [Cambridge, 1945], 15, 17–21.
In our contemporary world, money of exchange has become predominantly paper
currency. This trend began as early as the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries in countries
where gold and silver coins were very rare: New England, New France, Scandinavia and
parts of eastern Europe.
Small farmers in Massachusetts did most of their business without money of exchange.
They maintained a dense web of mutual charge accounts among themselves in a system that has
been called bookkeeping barter. Changing monetary values in their account books closely
matched the movement of money of exchange throughout the Atlantic world. During the price
revolution of the eighteenth century, similar rates of inflation appeared in both “imaginary
money” and “real money.” See Winifred Rothenberg, From Market Places to a Market
Economy; The Transformation of Rural Massachusetts, 1750–1850 (Chicago, 1992); idem,
“The Market and Massachusetts Farmers, 1750–1855,” Journal of Economic History 41
(1981) 283–314; idem, “A Price Index for Rural Massachusetts, 1750–1855,” ibid. 39 (1979)
975–1001; and for bookkeeping barter see Baxter, House of Hancock, 17–21.
Excellent works of reference on monetary systems include Peter Spufford (with the
assistance of Wendy Wilkinson and Sarah Tolley), Handbook of Medieval Exchange (London,
1986); and John J. McCusker, Money and Exchange in Europe and America, 1600–1775: A
Handbook (Chapel Hill, 1978). Another work on exchange in Europe from the late fifteenth
century is in progress by Frank C. Spooner.
APPENDIX H
Nominal Prices and Silver Equivalents
How should prices be represented? What units should be used? Most scholars measure prices
in standard monetary equivalents. That conventional practice has been followed in this work,
with a few exceptions noted in this appendix. But other social and agricultural historians have
sometimes reckoned prices differently in an effort to remove the effect of monetary
fluctuations, and in particular to control for the effect of monetary debasement.
The silver-content in money of exchange was frequently altered by public authorities and
private individuals. Monarchs and mint–masters changed the amount of precious metal in their
coins: sometimes by debasements which reduced the content of precious metal; other times by
recoinages which increased it. England’s Edward III, for example, repeatedly shrank the silver
content of an English penny: twenty-two grains in 1334, twenty in 1344, eighteen in 1351.
Henry IV reduced it further to fifteen in 1411, and Edward IV took it down to twelve grains in
1464. Other kings went the other way. Henry VII, founder of a new Tudor dynasty, wished to
establish the legitimacy of his reign by improving its coinage in silver content, technical
excellence, and artistic merit. His son Henry VIII reversed that policy. In the words of
historian Charles Oman, he converted “the finest, best executed and most handsome coinage in
Europe” into “the most disreputable money that had been seen since the days of Stephen—the
gold heavily alloyed, the so-called silver ill-struck and turning black and brown as the base
metal came to the surface.” (Charles Oman, Coinage of England [Oxford, 1931, 244]; Glyn
Davies, A History of Money [Cardiff, 1994], 192–93).
Private individuals also debased gold and silver coins that passed through their hands.
The crudest and most common method was to clip, shave, or file away part of the metal and
pass what remained as if it were the intact coin. This ancient practice is the reason why
modern coins are still minted with a distinctive pattern around their edges. A more subtle
method of debasement was to wash or “sweat” a coin, so as to remove some of its gold or
silver by chemical means. The most laborious technique was to cut the coin through its edge
into two narrow discs, remove the center, and rejoin them. A merchant, money-changer or even
small storekeeper in the early modern era had to keep his own scales and use them with great
care.
In early projects of price history, some scholars tried to correct for monetary instability of
this sort by reckoning prices not in monetary units but in grams or grains of pure silver. The
pathbreaking British price historian Thorold Rogers did this. His example was followed by
German agrarian historian Wilhelm Abel, who computed his grain prices in kilograms of pure
silver. Abel was mainly interested in harvest conditions, which he wished to study by a method
that would remove the effect of currency debasements and recoinages.
Other price historians have followed Rogers and Abel, notably Fernand Braudel and
Frank Spooner. But most have not done so. Increasingly, price historians work with nominal
monetary units. One of the most meticulous of medieval price scholars, David L. Farmer,
explains the reason why. “I have not followed J. E. T. Rogers and others in attempting to
express medieval prices in terms of constant weights of silver,” he wrote. “Such exercises
ignore the value of silver relative to the stock in the economy in which it circulates” (“Prices
and Wages, 1350–1500,” in Joan Thirsk, ed., Agrarian History of England and Wales, III,
441).
Scholars will continue to disagree on this problem. This book supplies estimates by both
methods for the price-revolutions of the Middle Ages, as well as for the sixteenth century and
the eighteenth century, so that readers may judge the result. They will find that the two methods
of representing prices make little difference for an understanding of long-term secular change.
Farmer himself attempted to measure the effect of debasements and recoinages more
directly, and found that the many English debasements of silver pennies between 1334 and
1464 had little impact on long secular trends in price levels. He concluded that changes in
1344 and 1351 “were followed by livestock prices slightly higher than usual for a year or two
after each devaluation… . But later changes in the weight of silver in the penny seem to have
had little effect on prices” (ibid., 440–41).
Altogether, indicators of the timing, direction, and spatial diffusion of major price-
movements yield broadly similar results, no matter whether one uses the prevailing gold and
silver currencies of the time or their equivalents in pure silver. Patterns of short-term
fluctuation in commodity prices around the secular trend were more apt to show the effect of
debasements; but the trend itself, as well as price relatives, wage-price movements, and the
movement of rent and interest are much the same by the two methods.
APPENDIX I
Returns to Capital: Interest Rates as Historical Indicators
As a measure of changing returns to capital, the empirical indicator used throughout this
inquiry is the annual rate of interest as it has changed through time. Here I have followed the
work of Sidney Homer, an American lawyer and investment counselor who worked in the
securities market for many years, and made it his hobby to study the history of interest rates
throughout the world, which he did with great care. Many scholars and leaders in the American
securities industry lent their expertise to his project. Among them were Henry Kaufman, Arthur
Burns, and Marshall Dunn (Sidney Homer, A History of Interest Rates (1963, 2d. ed., New
Brunswick, N.J., 1977).
From the broad range of materials that Homer collected, I have tried to assemble a set of
indicators that have six qualities in common. First, they are specific to a time and place.
Second, they are high-grade securities, issued either by leading governments, or by established
private institutions. Third, they are securities that are actively bought and sold in financial
markets. Fourth, market yields are preferred to nominal yields. Fifth, a range of securities is
used wherever possible: long and short, public and private. Sixth, where possible they have
been drawn from multiple national economies.
With a few exceptions, data that meet these criteria may be found from the fifteenth
century to the present, but not earlier. I have not been able to make much headway on the
movement of interest in the medieval price revolution. Scattered scraps of evidence suggest
that the patterns were similar to subsequent great waves, but more work needs to be done on
this question.
Other questions of high complexity will come quickly to mind. It would be good to know
more about the relation between price revolutions and capital-formation, capital-accumulation,
and patterns of change in the structure and function of capital markets. All this must be left to
later inquiries and larger books.
APPENDIX J
Returns to Labor: Real Wages and Living Standards
A difficult problem in this inquiry is to find a method of measuring returns to labor through four
price revolutions. The most simple and straightforward way is to compute real wages: that is,
money wages adjusted by an index of consumer prices. The result of this computation is yet
another index, commonly expressed as a ratio of the purchasing power of wages in any given
year to their purchasing power in a single benchmark year. This solution has been standard for
many generations and is employed throughout this work.
Many scholars have criticized the use of real wages for this purpose. They have done so
with good reason. Economists and historians agree that even the most refined indices of real
wages are not in themselves an accurate measure of returns to labor. They are even less
satisfactory as an indicator of changing standards of living. Here are a few of many problems.
First, standard series of money wages tend to have structural distortions in wage coverage
itself. Long-running wage series tend to bias the inquiry toward workers whose employment is
more stable than that of the labor force as a whole. This distortion was specially strong in the
late medieval and early modern historiography. In twentieth century statistics, the same bias is
still present, but not so strong. Its net effect in a study of secular change is to understate long-
term improvement of wages before the twentieth century.
Second, wage series tend to omit unreported earnings in the “gray economy.” As wages
are increasingly taxed in many nations, and employment is subject to regulations of growing
complexity, the gray labor market has grown larger during the twentieth century. Many of these
unreported jobs tend to be more poorly paid than those that are reported. In studies of secular
change, this problem causes an underestimate of growth in aggregate returns to labor, but an
overestimate of average hourly money wages and real wages in the twentieth century.
Third, real wages are commonly computed only from money wages, and take no account
of income in kind. A large part of returns to labor in the medieval and early modern periods
consisted of income in kind. This assumption, to my knowledge, has never been tested
empirically for long periods. The problem can only be solved by the use of personal
documents (diaries, private accounts, etc.), which are limited to literate populations. In any
case, a bias toward money wages understates returns to labor in every period. The magnitude
of this distortion is greatest in earlier periods; the effect is to overstate long-term improvement
in returns to labor by excluding a form of income that was relatively larger in the past.
Fourth, wage series in themselves tell us nothing about the extent of unemployment or
underemployment. Returns to labor should properly include not only hourly or daily earnings
but also the changing proportion of hours and days actually worked. Some twentieth-century
studies have introduced corrections for this problem. Stanley Lebergott compiled a series of
average annual returns of employees in the United States. He adjusted money earnings for
unemployment, then deflated both series by consumer prices. The result was two series: real
wages of workers when employed, and real wages of workers “after deduction for
unemployment.” But his correction did not fully account for underemployment, as distinct from
unemployment. See Stanley Lebergott, Manpower in Economic Growth: The American Record
since 1800 (New York, 1964). Both unemployment and underemployment were widespread in
the past. Many scholars believe that underemployment in particular was much greater in earlier
periods than it is today. Its forms have changed through time. In eighteenth-century France, for
example, laborers were often not able to work on religious feast days. This problem has not
seemed important to secular scholars, but each year there were 111 feast days in France under
the old regime. See George E. Rudé, “Prices, Wages and Popular Movements in Paris during
the French Revolution,” Economic History Review 2d ser. 6 (1953–54), 248n.
Fifth, feminists rightly complain of a strong gender-bias in wage indices, which
commonly omit the work of women who are not formally in the labor market. How does one
estimate the real wages of housewives? Their inclusion poses difficult problems of
measurement, and their omission leads to heavy overstatement of real wages per worker. The
same problem exists for the unpaid but often very arduous labor of other household members.
As more women enter the work force, and fewer children work within the family, the secular
effect of this bias is to understate the improvement of real wages in the past century.
Sixth, wage series do not tell us enough about actual living conditions and the standard of
living as they have changed through time. There are two problems here. One is conceptual:
how is one to define a standard of living? The second is empirical: how should it be
measured? Two very able Scottish historians sum up: “We should reiterate the point that any
study of the standard of the standard of living is beset with very substantial technical
difficulties for the historian, that the study of wages makes up only part of it, and the study of
male wages a smaller part still. Income is earned in several ways, and by all the household, so
the only fully legitimate way into the problem is through the examination of a total household
economy” (A. J. S. Gibson and T. C. Smout, Prices, Food and Wages in Scotland, 1550–1780
[Cambridge, 1995], 356).
But this requirement creates other problems. The “examination of a total household
economy” is fraught with difficulty. The evidence itself is much less than total, especially for
medieval households. Problems of inference are abundant. Estimates have often been distorted
by gross ideological biases in the “standard of living” debate that has raged in economic and
social history for many years.
For excellent discussions of the problem see Christopher Dyer, Standards of Living in
the Later Middle Ages; Social Change in England, c. 1200–1520 (Cambridge, 1989); and D.
Woodward, “Wage Rates and Living Standards in Pre-Industrial England,” Past and Present
91 (1981) 28–45.
For the time being, it is necessary to confine this inquiry to real wages alone, but the
limits of this indicator should be clearly understood. It refers only to the purchasing power of
money wages for a fixed unit of time, without regard to unemployment, underemployment,
unpaid labor, the gray market or the total household economy. It tells us only how the
purchasing power of a fixed unit of labor changed through time in terms of a basket of prices.
Future inquiries will undoubtedly be able to do better, but for the present this is as far as we
can go in a study of long-term secular change in returns to labor.
APPENDIX K
Measures of Wealth and Income Distribution
Many different statistical methods have been used to measure the distribution of income and
wealth. They present complex problems of bias in their construction, and are not easily
compared with one another.
Most common and straight-forward are what might be called “upper quantile” methods.
They estimate the size-shares of the richest I percent or 5 percent or 10 percent, or other top
quantiles of the population. Another common measure of a similar type is the Pareto
distribution, which calculates the slope of the upper tail of wealth or income holders. These
techniques tell us much about patterns of distribution at the top of a wealth-order, but the
coverage of all these approaches is biased toward the most affluent classes in a society.
Another favorite device is the Lorenz curve, which is created by plotting the cumulative
distribution of wealth for an entire population on the x axis, against the cumulative proportion
of the population holding that wealth on the y axis. If wealth is perfectly equal in its
distribution, the result is a straight diagonal line, showing that 25 percent of the population
owns 25 percent of the wealth, 50 percent owns 50 percent, etc. Where inequality exists, the
plot becomes a curve, which moves away from the diagonal line as inequality increases.
Many methods have been invented for summarizing the shape of a Lorenz curve in a single
statistic. Chief among them is the Gini ratio, which measures the area between the line of
equality and the curve of inequality, as a ratio of the total area below the line. Where perfect
equality exists, the line of equality and the curve coincide, and the Gini ratio is zero. Where
perfect inequality exists (that is, the upper unit owns everything), the Gini ratio approaches
1.00. In general, the geometry of a Gini ratio tends to give more representation to middling
groups, and less to the bottom and top.
Another measure of inequality has been invented by British economist A. B. Atkinson to
correct these biases of coverage. It is an index that includes a constant which can be set at
different levels, so as to give more or less weight to upper groups, or lower ones. In common
practice, the constants are arbitrarily set at several different values and multiple results are
given so as to provide different perspectives. Atkinson’s index has become popular among
economists, but it is rarely used by historians because it is not as accessible to general readers.
Other measures include the coefficient of variation, various applications of the standard
deviation, mean/median ratios, and mean deviations. These tools are very crude and lacking in
resolution.
Which measure should one use? A pluralist solution is adopted here, so as to combine
clarity and comprehension. Where possible, this inquiry seeks to combine for any given
distribution a Lorenz curve, a Gini ratio, and an attached table that lists the proportion of
wealth held by each decile of the population. This combination (which can be compressed into
a very small space) supplies easily accessible data for the top, middle and lower strata, and
also gives the most widely used single summary statistic. The presentation also uses both
tabular and graphic representations. The result combines clarity, precision, accessibility and
comprehension for different readers.
Unhappily it cannot be used in every instance because of source limits. In some cases only
Gini ratios, top quantile shares and zero holders are available.
APPENDIX L
Price Revolutions and Inequality
Why are some people rich and others poor? What is the cause of material inequality? How has
inequality changed through time? What, if anything, can or should we do about it? These eternal
questions have given rise to many models of inequality, which differ both as theoretical
propositions and empirical descriptions. Several leading models might be summarized in a
few sentences, and then compared with evidence that we have found in this inquiry.
Uniformity Models:
Pareto’s Law, Lassalle’s Conjecture, and Bowley’s Law
One set of theories are uniformity models. They describe inequality as more or less constant in
history and explain it as the inexorable result of something fixed and fundamental in human
nature or the social condition.
The leading uniformity theory is Pareto’s Law. It takes its name from Vilfredo Pareto
(1848–1923), an Italian scholar who studied income statistics in many nations, and concluded
that the pattern of inequality was a curve of constant shape for all incomes, all countries, and
all periods of history. Pareto’s Law is an equation that may be written in the form of:
logN = logA — alogX
where X is income of a given size, N is the number of people with that income or more, and A
is an empirical constant. When plotted on a double-log graph, the result is a line with a slope
of a.
Pareto believed that the slope of a was always approximately 1.5 for upper income-
holders. He concluded that this statistical regularity was a law of inequality, which derived
mainly from biological differences in the distribution of human ability. It is interesting that
Pareto himself was born to the nobility of Genoa. In later life he embraced many social causes,
but his attitudes remained aristocratic, and his law has found many supporters on the political
right. It has been used to prove that inequality is natural and inexorable.
Another and very different uniformity theory might be called Lassalle’s Conjecture, or the
Monte Carlo model. It comes not from the right but from the left, and takes its name from
Ferdinand Lassalle, a German socialist with a sense of humor, who observed a statistical
similarity between the distribution of wealth in European society and the distribution of
winners at the roulette table in Monte Carlo. He framed a proposition that both results were
ruled by the laws of chance, and would continue to be so until socialism shut down the game.
Lassalle’s idea of inequality was a constant curve of probability.
A third uniformity model is known to economists of advanced years as Bowley’s Law. It
bears the name of Arthur Bowley, a British statistician who constructed some of the earliest
estimates of national income for the United Kingdom. Bowley discovered evidence that income
shares of capital and labor remained approximately constant in Britain through the late
nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. This finding was called Bowley’s Law, which John
Maynard Keynes celebrated as “one of the most surprising, yet best established facts in the
whole range of economic statistics.” Bowley also reported evidence that the distribution of
incomes among individual workers in Britain remained stable over a period of nearly a
century. His model was extended to individual income-shares, as well as to factor shares
between labor and capital. See Y. S. Brenner, Hartmut Kaelbe and Mark Thomas, eds., Income
Distribution in Historical Perspective (Cambridge, 1991), 35; A. L. Bowley, Wages in the
United Kingdom in the Nineteenth Century (Cambridge, 1900); idem, Wages and Income in
the United Kingdom since 1860 (Cambridge, 1937).
Institutional Models:
The Welfare State and the Robin Hood Paradox
Historians commonly believe that laws, institutions, reform movements, and conservative
counter-movements have made a major difference in the distribution of wealth and income.
Most liberal textbooks in American history (which is to say, most textbooks) have been written
around the belief that Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal and Lyndon Johnson’s war on poverty
caused an increase in equality, and that the Robber Barons and Republican presidents before
1932 and after 1968 caused inequality to grow. These ideas rest on the idea that laws and
institutions make a difference.
A very different institutional model comes from economic historian Peter Lindert, who
has framed the counterhypothesis called the “Robin Hood Paradox,” which holds that “across
time and jurisdictions, redistribution toward the poor is least given when most needed . . .
Robin Hood shows up least when needed most.” (“Toward a Comparative History of Income
and Wealth Inequality,” in Brenner, Kaelbe and Thomas, eds., Income Distribution in
Historical Perspective,” 226–29
Empirical Evidence
Which of these many theories of inequality is correct? Altogether, evidence now in hand is
strong enough to support several generalizations
First, the uniformity models are mistaken. Pareto’s Law, Lassalle’s Conjecture and
Bowley’s Law all derived from early data, mainly for the mid-nineteenth and early twentieth
centuries. That era was a period of comparatively little change in wealth and income
distribution and appeared to confirm these models. But subsequent research yielded very
different results. More evidence accumulated from the 1930s to 1968; most of it found growing
of equality in that period. Yet more data is now available from 1968 to 1996, and shows the
opposite trend in that period: a rapid increase in inequality. Projects of historical research
have been completed for earlier periods. By and large they find evidence of growing inequality
in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, stability in the late nineteenth and early
twentieth centuries, growing equality in the mid-twentieth century, and growing inequality
thereafter. All of this evidence supports a firm conclusion. The history of inequality is the
history of change.
Further, there is strong evidence that wealth and income distribution have varied broadly
one culture to another, and that some of these relative differences have remained highly
persistent through time, even as change has occurred everywhere in levels and trends. Even
within the narrow limits of American history, for example, the range of regional and local
differences in inequality is nearly as broad as the limits of possibility. In terms of Gini ratios
(where .00 equals perfect equality and .99 represents perfect inequality), the first distribution
of lands in Roger Williams’s Rhode Island Plantation briefly approached zero, but the
distribution of land in Adams County, Mississippi, on the eve of the Civil War was above .95.
Relative differences of that sort have persisted between northern and southern regions of the
United States for two centuries. From these findings one may draw a second conclusion.
Elements of cultural persistence have coexisted with patterns of change.
How do these combinations of change and persistence compare with leading theories of
inequality? In general, one may say that most of the leading theorists of inequality have
accurately described inequality-trends in the half-century or century before they wrote. But all
were mistaken in building a universal theory on that narrow historical base. This conclusion
holds for Malthus, Ricardo and Marx; for Lassalle, Pareto and Bowley; for Kuznets,
Williamson and Lindert. All testified truly to their own immediate historical experience, but
erred in over-generalizing to other periods.
It is well known, for example, that the relationship between population and wealth
changed fundamentally just after Malthus published his work; that the relationship between
capitalism and distribution was transformed after Marx. In the same way, the Kuznets-
Williamson-Lindert inverted-U model appears to fit the facts from the mid-nineteenth to the
mid-twentieth century, but not from the 1960s to our own time.
Other theories of inequality have been falsified by historical research. The institutional
models fail the test of chronology. Inequality did not increase in the age of the Robber Barons.
It did not diminish after 1968. Recent theoretical models of a market revolution as the driver of
inequality during the nineteenth century fail every test, both for the timing of market-growth and
inequality. The Robin Hood paradox works in the 1980s, but not in the 1930s. The idea that
capitalism caused inequality is also incorrect in the same way: it works for some periods, but
not for others. In terms of chronology the history of capitalism and the history of inequality do
not coincide. In short, all of the theoretical models listed above are unsupported by historical
evidence.
This evidence suggests the possibility of another theory. Let us look again at the
descriptive patterns. In the past five centuries the predominant change pattern is not precisely
linear or cyclical. Levels of inequality have tended to rise and fall in long wavelike
movements. In what is now the northern United States, patterns appear to have been more or
less as follows: 1630–1670, growing inequality; 1680–1730, growing equality; 1740–1840,
growing inequality; 1850–1932, fluctuations on a fixed plateau; 1932–68, growing equality;
1968–96+, growing inequality.
Figure 5.07 summarizes many studies of wealth-distribution in the northern United States. It
finds three periods of growing inequality which coincide with later stages of price revolutions
and early years of price equilibria: 1630–1670, 1760–1850, and 1968–1996+. It also finds
two periods of stability or increasing equality which coincide with the later phases of price
equilibria and the early stages of price revolutions: 1680–1760, and 1860–1968.
All time series are analyses of estates in probate except Hingham (taxable wealth), and
the U.S.A. (census data and household surveys). All are computed as Gini ratios except
Hingham, which is the size-share of the top ten percent. A Gini ratio is a measure of
distribution, which ranges from .00 (perfect equality) to .99 (perfect inequality, where the top
percentile owns everything).
Sources include Jeffrey G. Williamson and Peter H. Lindert, American Inequality; A
Macroeconomic History (Madison, 1964); Lee Soltow, “Distribution of Income and Wealth,”
in Glenn Porter ed., Encyclopedia of American Economic History, III, 1087–1102; idem, Men
and Wealth in the United States, 1850–1870 (New Haven, 1975); idem, Patterns of
Wealthholding in Wisconsin since 1850 (Madison, 1971); W. I. King, Wealth and Income of
the People of the United States (New York, 1915); Daniel Scott Smith, “Population, Family,
and Society in Hingham. . . ” (diss., Univ. of California at Berkeley, 1973); Donald Koch,
“Income Distribution and Political Structure in Seventeenth-Century Salem,” Essex Institute
Historical Collections 105 (1969) 50–71; Jackson Turner Main, Society and Economy in
Colonial Connecticut (Princeton, 1985).
The main lines of change in European data are more obscure. But in England, inequality
increased during the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, diminished in the late
seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, increased again from the mid-eighteenth century to
the mid-nineteenth century, fluctuated on the same plane circa 1850–1930, declined in the mid-
twentieth century, and have been rising in the late twentieth century. In summary, British trends
are broadly similar to those in the United States.
We find a wave pattern in the wealth-histories of both nations. These waves do not
synchronize exactly with price-revolutions and price-equilibria. But if one lags price-
movements against inequality-trends, then a correlation begins to emerge. In descriptive terms
it might be summarized as follows. The later stages of every price revolution and the early
stages of each equilibrium were periods when inequality increased. On the other hand, the
latter stages of each equilibrium, and the early stages of each price revolution were marked by
stability or decline in levels of inequality. These trends appear to have recurred in every price
revolution since the late middle ages.
This descriptive pattern strongly suggests a theory of inequality. First, changes in relative
returns to capital and labor were caused by the dynamics of price revolutions and price
equilibria as discussed in the main body of this work. Second, changes in the distribution of
income were caused by those prior changes in relative returns to labor and capital, lagged in
time. Third, changes in wealth-distribution were caused by changes in income-distribution,
also lagged in time. All of this would explain a correlation between price revolutions and
inequality, but one that is offset in time, with strong inertial effects. This theory also suggests
many obvious possibilities for the regulation of inequality. Here again, a wave-pattern is an
opportunity for a policy-maker in a free society.
APPENDIX M
Price Revolutions and Family Disintegration
One of the great social questions in the late twentieth century is about the disintegration of the
family. A particular source of concern is the rapid rise of births outside marriage, which in the
United States increased from 3.5 percent in 1940 to 28 percent in 1990. These estimates refer
to the entire American population. Among African Americans, the proportion of births to
unwed mothers was 65 percent in 1990, and climbing. Similar trends (with different
magnitudes) appeared in many nations. By the 1990s, the proportion of babies born outside of
marriage was higher in Britain and some European nations than in America. See U. S. National
Center for Health Statistics, Vital Statistics of the United States (1995); Statistical Abstract
of the United States (1993), table 101.
By 1990 the problem of family disintegration had reached crisis proportions and became
profoundly destructive of individual lives. Many studies have found that children born to
unwed mothers are more likely to get into serious trouble in later life. By comparison with
children in complete families, children born outside of marriage are less likely to stay in
school or keep out of jail. They are less able to find a good job, or any job, or to be able to
hold a job. They are also less likely to become married themselves, but more likely to have
children of their own outside of wedlock.
The many problems of source-bias in the evidence are discussed in Ted R. Gurr, “Historical
Trends in Violent Crime: A Critical Review of the Evidence,” Crime and Justice 3 (1981)
295–352, the first attempt to draw this material together. Population estimates are also full of
difficulty, especially for the Middle Ages.
Other general studies reach similar conclusions as to level and trend. All stress the long
decline, and also note (as did Gurr) strong upward surges in the fourteenth, sixteenth and
twentieth centuries. See Lawrence Stone, “Interpersonal Violence in English Society, 1300–
1983,” Past&Present 102 (1983) 206–215; J. A Sharpe, “The History of Violence in England:
Some Observations,” Past & Present 108 (1985) 216–54.
Specific studies include James B. Given, Society and Homicide in Thirteenth-Century
England (Stanford, 1977); J. S. Cockburn, “Patterns of Violence in English Society:
Homicides in Kent, 1560–1985,” Past&Present 130 (1991)70–106); Joel Samaha, Law and
Order in Historical Perspective: The Case of Elizabethan Essex (New York, 1974); V. A C.
Gatrell, “The Decline of Theft and Violence in Victorian and Edwardian England,” in Gatrell,
et al., Crime and the Law (London, 1980), 342–45.
An excellent survey and bibliography of the very large literature is J. A. Sharpe, “The
History of Crime in England, c. 1300–1914, An Overview of Recent Publications,” British
Journal of Criminology 28 (1988) 254–67.
A third crime wave followed in the eighteenth century. It was not as strong as other
upward movements had been, but it was clearly evident in homicide rates, and more visible in
respect to other crimes. In Staffordshire, indictments for theft increased sixfold from the 1760s
to the 1790s. In Wiltshire, prosecutions for violations of the game laws multiplied by a factor
of seven from the 1760s to the 1790s. See J. S. Cockburn, ed., Crime in England, 1550–1800
(Princeton, 1977), 226; Douglas Hay, “War, Dearth and Theft in the Eighteenth Century: The
Record of the English Courts,” Past and Present 95 (1982) 125.
This surge reached its climax in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, then
reversed. By 1830, rates of violent crime were falling in England, and in many nations. This
decline, once begun, continued with a few interruptions through the Victorian era and well into
the early twentieth century. It persisted as late as 1930 in Stockholm, 1940 in Sydney and
Chicago, 1950 in London, and 1960 in Calcutta.
In the mid-twentieth century, a fourth crime wave began, and rapidly overswept most
nations throughout the world. Dates varied in detail, but crime rates were rising everywhere by
1960, and surged to very high levels after 1970. The magnitude of this increase was very large.
Homicide rates in some American cities approached the highest levels of the fourteenth
century. In 1991, homicides per 100,000 population were approximately 5 in St. Paul, 8 in
Seattle, 20 in Boston, 30 in New York, 40 in Baltimore, 50 in Atlanta, 60 in Detroit, 70 in New
Orleans, and 80 in Washington. So dangerous were the streets of the nation’s capital that it was
not safe to walk Pennsylvania Avenue between the White House and the Capitol after dark. In
1991, the most powerful nation in the world was unable to keep order within a few hundred
yards of the presidential mansion (Statistical Abstract of the United States [1993] table 303).
Then the pattern of change reversed yet again. In the 1990s crime rates were falling
rapidly in the United States. Some learned observers believed that this decline marked the
beginning of a new secular trend. Others thought that the crime wave of the twentieth century
had yet to run its course.
This evidence comes mostly from Britain and the United States. Did similar patterns
prevail in other nations? The broad answer is yes. Many local variations appeared in levels of
crime, but temporal trends were similar in many nations.
The reason of a thing is not to be enquired after, till you are sure the thing
itself be so. We commonly are at what’s the reason of it? before we are
sure of the thing.
A primary purpose of this project is descriptive. One of its organizing assumptions is that a
task of empirical description may be undertaken without an apparatus of theory. This idea
breaks in a fundamental way with an epistemic orthodoxy that has dominated the disciplines of
American social science since the late 1940s. So universal has this orthodoxy become in the
United States that scholars who work within it are unaware that any other mode of thinking is
even possible.
In American universities, a social scientist is free to adopt almost any style of dress,
demeanor, life-style, sexual preference, or political ideology, no matter how bizarre or
preposterous the choice may be. But graduate students are required to embrace the
conventional epistemology of their disciplines, on pain of expulsion from the guild. If they dare
to think about the world in any other way, their work is judged “unsound,” and they are sent
upon their way.
The orthodox epistemology of American social science may be summarized in a sentence.
It holds that every explicit description rests upon implicit theoretical assumptions that create
the criteria for selecting the things to be described. It teaches that nothing can be understood, or
even perceived, without reference to a theory. This epistemology argues not merely that theory-
centered thinking is a valid form of social science. It insists that theory is the only form.
Within this body of belief, the central idea of “theory” varies broadly from one social
science to another. In economics, a theory is commonly understood as an “if . . . then . . . ”
proposition; that is, a statement in the form of’ ‘if x, then y.” In sociology, a theory is
commonly a paradigm model. In history, it sometimes becomes a sequence of narrative
statements. However it is conceived, theory-framing and theory-testing became the consuming
obsession of American social science during the mid-twentieth century.
The emergence of this epistemic orthodoxy in the United States may be dated to the
decade 1945–55, when it appeared simultaneously in manifestos by economists, sociologists,
anthropologists, psychologists and historians. In economics, a leading example was an
important essay called “Measurement without Theory,” published by Tjalling Koopmans in
1947. Koopmans argued that empirical measurement of any phenomenon was “impossible”
without fixed “theoretical preconceptions.” Further, he asserted (inconsistently) that
measurement without theory was trivial and useless, because “conclusions relevant to the
guidance of economic policies cannot be drawn.” Koopmans was not content merely to defend
the importance of theoretical knowledge in economics. He wished to deny the value of
economic knowledge in any other form and to condemn any colleague who sought to attain it in
a different way. See Tjalling C. Koopmans, “Measurement without Theory,” Review of
Economics and Statistics 29 (1947) 161–72.
Similar arguments were simultaneously made in the other social sciences. An example in
sociology was Serge Timasheff’s manifesto called Sociological Theory (1955), which argued
that “without theory directing their interpretation and arrangement, facts are almost
meaningless.” Timasheff’s sociological colleagues argued among themselves about how
theorizing might best be done. Talcott Parsons favored the construction of grand theory. Robert
Merton argued for “theories of the middle range.” But here again, in sociology as well as in
economics, the new orthodoxy insisted that theory was not merely one form of meaningful
thought. It was thought to be the only form. All others were dismissed by Timasheff as “almost
meaningless.”
The practical effect of this new orthodoxy was profound. It radically changed the work
that social scientists actually did. During the 1930s, for example, an earlier generation of
economists had labored at large projects of empirical description such as Koopmans’s review-
essay specifically condemned. An example was the work of the International Committee on
Prices, which compiled comprehensive and very valuable time series on price movements
through the past millennium. After 1950, this work came to an end. Mechanical data-gathering
continued in government agencies, but creative projects of empirical description by leading
scholars passed out of fashion.
In American sociology, something similar happened. During the 1920s, 1930s, and 1940s,
sociologists had produced many powerful works of empirical description. Chief among them
were community studies such as the Lynds’ two Middletown volumes (1929–37), Lloyd
Warner’s Yankee City series, and Sidney Goldstein’s Norristown study. As the new epistemic
orthodoxy took hold, these projects were gradually abandoned, and sociological monographs
became narrow tests of specific “theoretical” propositions. Larger works tended to be
ruminations on theory in general. For a generation, theory-bound inquiry became the central
and even the exclusive business of American social scientists.
The effect of this revolution was both positive and negative. Monographs became more
coherent in their conceptual apparatus, and more rigorous as well. But a price was paid for
these advances. Inquiry became narrowly blinkered by theoretical assumptions, which often
proved to be circular in their structure and increasingly ignorant of the world that they
purported to explain. As a consequence, social science became increasingly remote from
social reality. The theory-centered epistemology of social science began by stimulating
thought; it ended by stultifying it.
During the 1970s and 1980s, a growing chorus of self-criticism began to be heard from
younger social scientists. In economics, for example, Lester Thurow in 1983 complained that
his discipline had become a closed world. “In economics today,” he wrote, “theory has
become an ideology rather than a set of working hypotheses used to understand the behavior of
the economy found in the real world . . . in my mind, mainstream American economics reflect
more an academic need for an internal theoretical consistency and rigor than it reflects
observable measurable realities in the world.”
Similar arguments were also made by sociologists such as Alvin Gouldner. For the most
part, however, these critics did not argue against theory in general. They inveighed against
theories of which they disapproved. Even among the iconoclasts, the epistemic orthodoxy
remained intact. Nevertheless, their critiques were symptoms of a malaise that was deeply felt
during the late 1970s and early 1980s.
Ironically, at the same time that this epistemic orthodoxy established itself in social
science, its assumptions were being challenged by epistemologists and cognitive scientists in a
body of scholarship that is potentially revolutionary for social inquiry. One example of this
work is the epistemology of Fred Dretske, who draws a helpful distinction between two
epistemic operations that he calls “seeing” and “knowing.” Dretske argues that there is a
“visual ability” which is “an endowment relatively free from the influence of education, past
experience, linguistic sophistication, and conceptual dexterity.” He offers the example of a
“bewildered savage, transplanted suddenly from his native environment to a Manhattan subway
station, [who] can witness the arrival of the 3:45 express as clearly as the bored commuter.
Ignorance of X does not impair one’s vision of X; if it did, total ignorance would be largely
irreparable.” See Fred I. Dretske, Seeing and Knowing (Chicago, 1969), 8.
Dretske argues that “seeing” in this special sense can take place not only between an
observer and a physical object, but also between an observer and an historical event. “Not
only can books, cats, trees, automobiles, buildings, shadows and people be seen in the way that
I have just depicted,” he writes, “but also such items as battles, departures, signals,
ceremonies, games, accidents, stabbings, performances, escapes and gestures. . . . Events as
well as objects (and things such as shadows) can be seen in this way. . . . Events are
movements and occurrences; they involve a moment or change” (14–15).
This simple act of brute perception is fundamental to our experience of the world. We use
it every day. In purely practical terms, we can scarcely exist without it. But in the formal
inquiries of social science and social history, its operations have been suppressed by a
relativist epistemology which insists that there is no seeing without knowing, no description
without explanation, no observation without prior belief, and no measurement without theory.
Seeing is, indeed, very different from knowing. Its product is information rather than
meaning. Information, Dretske teaches us, is “an objective commodity, something whose
generation, transmission and reception do not require or in any way presuppose interpretative
process,” and it can be attained by a process that is “logically independent of whatever beliefs
we may possess” (17). He is wrong on the first point, but right on the second.
The present work is organized on the assumption that there are at least two very different
forms of cognition: seeing-observing and knowing-believing. American social scientists in the
twentieth century have been taught to do the second and to despise the first. They are trained to
know and believe but not to see and observe. They are told to seek meaning rather than
information. Most of all they are taught that the perception of social phenomena is necessarily
theory-bound and that any other sort of cognition is insignificant or even impossible.
Much important work is done within this theoretical frame, but it does not exhaust the
epistemic possibilities. There are other ways to study the world. American historian John Day,
who has been formally trained in the very different epistemology of the French Annales
School, offers a valuable suggestion in that respect. In a recent “essai d’autohistoire,” Day
distinguishes between two types of historical epistemology: that of what he calls the American
“cliometric school” and that of the French Annalists. American cliometricians, he observes,
begin with a theory—a hypothetico-deductive “if . . . then . . . ”model. French Annalists begin
with a problematique—a set of questions that are more open-ended and carefully set within a
specific cultural and historical context. “Ce marriage de convenance entre pratique et theorie
en histoire [de l’école des cliometricians Americains],” John Day writes, “contraste a mon
sens avec la bonne entente entre pratique et problematique qui characterise les grands
historiens de l’Ecole des Annales.” See John Day, “Terres, marchés et monnaies en Italie et en
Sardaigne du XIIe au XVIIIe siècle,” Histoire, Economie et Société 2 (1983) 187–203.
These problematiques are more than merely problems. They are frames of inquiry that
include a set of empirical questions, together with the epistemic apparatus necessary to answer
them. In short, a problematique is not merely an object of inquiry. It is also a method and even
an epistemology.
How does problematique differ from theory? In terms of grammar, a theory is a
declarative statement. A problematique is an interrogative statement. Theory-bound research
begins with an assertion; if the theory is sound, that assertion is proven to be correct. Problem-
centered research starts with a question; if the problem is sound, then the question can be
answered in many different ways according to the evidence. A problematique always has an
open end. A theory, by the very nature of its entailed proposition, “if x, then y,” always has a
closed end.
There is also another difference between theory and problematique. A theoretical
statement is a universal generalization. It commonly takes the form of an assertion that
whenever x exists, then y must always follow. A problematique, on the other hand, can be
tailored to historical circumstances.
Further, in actual practice, a theory-bound research design commonly commits the fallacy
of many questions. That is, it asks two or more questions but demands a single answer. A
problematique can be more exact, more flexible and also more rigorous. Its rigor is that of
erotetic logic, which is the logic of questions and answers, as distinct from the logic of
statements. See A. and M. Prior, “Erotetic Logic,” Philosophical Review 64 (1955) 43–59;
and Nuel D. Belknap Jr. and Thomas B. Steel Jr., The Logic of Questions and Answers (New
Haven, 1976).
For all of these reasons, the frame of this inquiry has been constructed in terms of a
problem rather than a theory. It is organized around a set of interrogative questions rather than
declarative statements: What has been the pattern of secular change in price levels? How have
price-fluctuations and price-relatives changed through time? How have real wages, rents and
interest rates changed?
To adopt this problem-centered approach is not to deny the possibility of theory-driven
inquiry. It is rather to assert the possibility and value of another kind of seeing and knowing. It
is to suggest that historians and economists should study their Kipling at an impressionable
age, and might be taught to play Kim’s Game. They should not be compelled to choose theory-
bound research as the only acceptable form of inquiry. There are other ways.
NOTES
Preface
1. “De tous les appareils enregistreurs, capables de révéler a 1’historian les mouvements
profonds de l’economie, les phénomènes monétaires sont sans doute le plus sensible. Mais ne
leur reconnaitre que cette valeur de symptôme serait manquer à leur rendre pleine justice; ils
ont eté et sont, à leur tour, des causes; quelque chose comme un sismographe qui, non content
de signaler les tremblements de terre, parfois les provoquerait.” Marc Bloch, “Le problème de
l’or au moyen age,” Annales d’ Histoire Économique et Sociale” 5 (1935) 1.
2. Daniel J. Boorstin, “Enlarging the Historian’s Vocabulary,” in R. W. Fogel and S. L.
Engerman, eds., The Reinterpretation of American Economic History (New York, 1971), xi–
xiv.
3. The author’s favorite price lists for this period appear in Claudio Sanchez-Albornez,
Elprecio de la vide en el reino Astor-Leones hace mil años (Buenos Aires, 1945). A copy of
this rare and happy work, one of the few price compilations that can be read purely for
pleasure, is in the New York Public Library.
4. See bibliography for a survey of these materials.
Introduction
1. “Aufschwung im 13 Jahrhundert . . . Abschwung im Spätmittelalter . . . Aufschwung im
16 Jahrhundert brach im 17 Jahrhundert ab; ein dritter Aufschwung im 18 Jahrhundert . . . Was
bedeuten diese Wellen?” Wilhelm Abel, Agrarkrisen und Agrarkonjunktur: Eine Geschichte
der Land und Ernährungswirtschaft Mitteleuropas seit dem höhen Mittelalter (Hamburg and
Berlin, 1935, 1956, 1966, 1978), 13–14; an English edition, much revised, has been published
as Agricultural Fluctuations in Europe from the Thirteenth to the Twentieth Centuries
(London and New York, 1980).
2. Ernest Henry Phelps-Brown and Sheila V. Hopkins, “Seven Centuries of the Prices of
Consumables, Compared with Builders’ Wage-Rates,” Economica 23 (1956) 296–314; idem,
“Seven Centuries of Building Wages, ibid., 22 (1955) 195–206; idem, A Perspective of Wages
and Prices (London, 1981). This is a weighted “market-basket” index, which includes grain,
vegetables, meat, fish, butter, cheese, drink, fuel, light, and textiles. The weights are held
constant throughout the series (80 percent for food; the rest for fuel and textiles), but specific
products are changed to match consumption patterns.
3. Wilhelm Abel, Agrarkrisen und Agrarkonjunktur; François Simiand, Les fluctuations
économiques à longue période et la crise mondiale (Paris, 1932); idem, Recherches
anciennes et nouvelles sur le mouvement général des prix du XVIe au XIXe siècle (Paris,
1932); Jenny Griziotti-Kretschmann, ll problema del trend sècolare nelle fluttuazioni dei
prèzzi (Pavia, 1935).
4. Fernand Braudel, Civilization and Capitalism, 15th–18th Century, vol. 3, The
Perspective of the World (New York, 1984), 76–80, 82; for the response of American
reviewers, see, e.g., Charles Kindleberger in the New York Times. I met the same response in
1980, when I first published an essay summarizing the main lines of my work on this subject.
See D. H. Fischer, “Chronic Inflation: The Long View,” Journal of the Institute for
Socioeconomic Studies 5 (1980) 81–103. Attitudes at last are changing.
5. Alan Blinder, New York Times, 19 Feb. 1984.
6. Lester C. Thurow, The Zero Sum Society (New York, 1980), 43.
7. Here again waves and cycles behave differently. Academic interest in economic cycles
tends to be countercyclical, but the study of waves increases as the wave-crest comes near.
8. Many cyclical rhythms have been found in modern history. For a survey of a very large
literature by social scientists on long cycles—mainly fifty-year Kondratieff cycles or multiples
of those units. See Joshua S. Goldstein, Long Cycles: Prosperity and War in the Modern Age
(New Haven, 1988); the literature on this subject is discussed in Appendix E and the
bibliography.
9. See appendix O.
10. Herbert Stein, Presidential Economics (rev. ed. N.Y., 1985), 222.
Markets of unknown date are not included. R. H. Britnell, “The Proliferation of Markets in
England, 1200–1349,” Economic History Review 2d ser. 34 (1981) 209–21.
22. E. M. Carus-Wilson, “An Industrial Revolution of the Thirteenth Century,” Economic
History Review 11 (1941) 39–60; Rolf Sprandel, “La production du fer au Moyen Age,”
Annales 24 (1969) 305–21.
23. Abel, Agrarkrisen und Agrarkonjunktur, chap. 1; F. Curschmann, “Hungersnöte in
Mittelalter. Ein Beitrag zur deutschen Wirtschaftsgeschichte des 8. bis 13. Jahrhunderts,”
Leipziger Studien aus dem Gebiete der Geschichte 6 (1900) 1.
24. Marc Bloch, “Le probleme de l’or au Moyen Age,” Annales d’Histoire Économique
et Sociale 5 (1933) 1–34; a translation appears in Land and Work in Medieval Europe:
Selected Papers by Marc Bloch (tr. J. E. Anderson; Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1967), 186–
229. Also important is a companion piece by Bloch, translated by Anderson as “Natural
Economy or Money Economy: A Pseudo-Dilemma,” ibid., 230–41.
25. Pierre Vilar, A History of Gold and Money 1450–1920 (Barcelona, 1969; English tr.
London, 1976), 19.
26. C. C. Patterson, “Silver Stocks and Losses in Ancient and Medieval Times,”
Economic History Review 2d ser. 25 (1972) 205–35; the estimate of three hundred tons is from
D. M. Metcalf, “English Monetary History in the Time of Offa: A Reply,” Numismatic
Circular 71 (1963) 1651.
27. J. R. Strayer, “The Crusades of Louis IX,” in K. M. Setton, ed., A History of the
Crusades (Philadelphia, 1962), II, chap. 14.
28. Robert S. Lopez writes, “Silver had been mined in various European regions
throughout the early Middle Ages; the opening of the Goslar mines had been one of the earliest
signs of the long trend of growth in the tenth century; Freiburg, probably the richest source, had
been developed in the twelfth century. The thirteenth was marked by intensive exploitation of
old mines but not blessed by important new discoveries; and there were symptoms of
increasing difficulties in securing the larger amounts demanded by the growing hunger for
silver. In Italy, the inferior mines of Tuscany and Sardinia were tapped, and water-driven
hammers were introduced to exploit the poorer ores of Trentino; in Germany, Goslar passed its
peak and Freiburg was nearing exhaustion.” Robert S. Lopez, “Back to Gold, 1252,”
Economic History Review 2d ser. 9 (1956) 219–40, 233.
29. Patterson, “Silver Stocks and Losses,” 230.
30. Mate, “High Prices in the Early Fourteenth Century,” 2.
31. Two excellent and very thoughtful essays on this subject are N. J. Mayhew, “Money
and Prices in England from Henry II to Edward III,” Agricultural History Review 35 (1987)
121–32; and A. R. Bridbury, “Thirteenth-Century Prices and the Money Supply,” ibid., 33
(1985) 1–21. Bridbury and Mayhew believe that the expansion of the money supply began
earlier, circa 1280, and that a “sudden late-twelfth century surge has every appearance of
monetary inflation.” (Mayhew, 129).
I read the price-series of Thorold Rogers and David Farmer differently (as did Rogers
and Farmer themselves), as a gradual rise in prices, except for a very violent price-surge
during a period from 1201 to 1205, which was time of extreme bad weather. W. L. Warren
writes of that time, “the rivers froze after Christmas and the Thames could be crossed on foot.
The ground was so hard that no ploughshare could bite into it until March. The winter sowings
were almost ruined by the ferocity of the cold; vegetables and herbage shriveled up. When
spring finally came . . . corn was selling at famine prices. Oats fetched ten times the normal
price, and men were paying half a mark for a few pence worth of peas or beans. A sorry land
was England in 1204–05.” W. L. Warren, King John (London, 1961), 105.
32. On florins and ducats, a good survey appears in Frederic Lane, Venice, a Maritime
Republic (Baltimore, 1973), which summarizes many years of study on this subject; see also
idem, “Le vecchie monete di conto veneziane ed il ritorno all’ore,” Atto dell Instituto Veneto
di Scienze Letre ed Arti; Classe di Scienzi Morali, Letter, ed Arti 117 (1958–59) 49–78; A.
M. Watson, “Back to Gold and Silver,” Economic History Review 2d ser. 20 (1967) 1–34.
33. Lopez describes a “boom of contracts of exchange and bank transfers between 1248
and 1255.” “Back to Gold,” 232.
34. Carlo M. Cipolla, “Currency Depreciation in Medieval Europe,” Economic History
Review 2d ser. 15 (1963) 417.
35. On the fall of real wages, see Postan, “Some Economic Evidence of Declining
Population,” 221–46; Phelps-Brown and Hopkins, “Seven Centuries of the Prices of
Consumables, Compared with Builders’ Wage-Rates,” 296–314; and Abel, Agrarkrisen und
Agrarkonjunktur, 40–41.
36. Georges d’Avenel, Histoire économique de la proprieté, des salarires des denrées
et de tous les prix en general depuis l’an 1200 jusqu’en l’an 1800 (7 vols., Paris, 1894–
1926), III, 317.
37. The Chronicle of Jocelin of Brakelond, ed. H. E. Butler (London, 1949), 59.
38. Carus-Wilson, “Industrial Revolution of the Thirteenth Century,” 54.
39. Carlo M. Cipolla, Money, Prices, and Civilization in the Mediterranean World:
Fifth to Seventeenth Century (Princeton, 1956), 63–65; Sidney Homer, A History of Interest
Rates (New Brunswick, 1963) 94–99.
40. Cipolla, Money, Prices, and Civilization, chap. 3.
41. “It is generally agreed that the thirteenth century witnessed an economic crisis that led
to the impoverishment of the population.” Alfred N. May, “An Index of Thirteenth-Century
Peasant Impoverishment? Manor Court Fines,” Economic History Review 2d ser. 26 (1973)
397; Titow, English Rural Society, 64–96.
42. Rohault de Fleury, Mémoire sur les instruments de la Passion de N.-S.J.-C. (Paris,
1870), 213, 357.
43. J. Z. Titow, Winchester Yields (Cambridge, 1972); Mate, “High Prices in Early
Fourteenth-Century England,” 8.
44. A running tabulation of disettes appears in M. E. Levasseur, Les prix aperçu de
l’histoire économique de la valeur et du revenu de la terre, en France du commencement du
XIIe siècle à la fin du XVIHe, avec un appendice sur le prix du froment et sur les disettes
depuis l’an 1200 jusqu’a l’an 1891 (Paris, 1893), appendix.
45. D’Avenel, Histoire . . . de tous les prix, III, 183.
46. D. L. Farmer, “Some Livestock Price Movements in Thirteenth-Century England,”
Economic History Review, 2d ser. 22 (1969) 1–16. Postan, in an appended note to Medieval
Economy and Society, 280–81, expresses strong skepticism about the thesis that recoinages
made a difference in price levels. He writes: “The upsurge of prices which Mr. Farmer noted
in the years following some of the recoinages does not occur in the years following other
recoinages. Between 1150 and 1300, recoinages occurred at least six times, from 1156–9,
1181, 1205, 1247, 1279 and 1299, yet some of these do not appear to have had any effect on
prices, especially 1181, 1205 and 1299.” Postan appears to have been mistaken about the
recoinages of 1205 and 1299, but he may have been correct about 1181. On balance, the weight
of Farmer’s evidence is greater than Postan’s skepticism. See also D. L. Farmer, “Some Grain
Price Movements in Thirteenth-Century England, Economic History Review 2d ser. 10 (1957–
58) 207.
47. Mate, “High Prices in Early Fourteenth-Century England,” 5.
48. Ibid.
49. Michael Prestwich, “Early Fourteenth-Century Exchange Rates,” Economic History
Review 32 (1979) 470–82.
50. Raymond de Roover, The Rise and Decline of the Medici Bank (Cambridge, 1963;
New York, 1966), 2.
51. Mario Chiaudano, “I Rothschild del Dugento: La Gran Tavola di Orlando
Buonsignori,” Bullettino Sienese di Storia Patria 42 (1935), 103–42; William M. Bowsky,
The Finance of the Commune of Siena, 1287–1355 (Oxford, 1970); idem, A Medieval Italian
Commune: Siena Under the Nine, 1287–1355 (Berkeley, 1981).
Sources include David Herlihy, “The Population of Verona in the First Century of Venetian
Rule,” in J.R. Hale, ed., Renaissance Florence (London, 1973), 91–120; for complaints of
overcrowding see Abel, Agricultural Fluctuations, 99.
20. Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie, The Peasants of Languedoc (Urbana, 1974), 56.
21. One of the first scholars to observe this pattern of price relatives in a systematic way
was F. Simiand, in Recherches anciennes et nouvelles sur le mouvement général des prix du
XVIe au XIXe siècle (Paris, 1932); this finding has been replicated many times, and is a key to
the structure of the great wave. Some have argued that agricultural products rose swiftly
because “they were coming most rapidly into markets.” But this is not the case by comparison
with industrial products, which were equally subject to market forces. The difference was in
the disparities of demand which developed from demographic trends, and in different supply
elasticities.
22. The only contrary finding that I have seen is in Steve Rappaport’s excellent study of
prices paid by London Livery Companies, which finds that the price of firewood faggots in
London rose slowly in the sixteenth century. He concludes that the cause may have been a shift
from wood to coal in London; imports of coal increased 400 percent in the reign of Queen
Elizabeth I. In other parts of England, wood prices rose three times faster than in London. See
Steve Rappaport, Worlds within Worlds: Structures of Life in Sixteenth-Century London
(Cambridge, 1989), 144–45.
23. Hoszowski, “Central Europe and the Price Revolution,” 91.
24. Hoszowski writes that in Poland, “prices rose without a break from between 1521
and 1530 until 1550, when they had already reached a high level. The reason is that Poland
was the greatest cereal exporter; the rise took place there before the invasion of American
‘treasure’ and the great upheavals that followed it throughout Europe.” (Hoszowski, “Central
Europe and the Sixteenth- and Seventeenth-Century Price Revolution,” p. 91).
25. On the problem of relative prices, see especially F. Simiand, Recherches anciennes
et nouvelles sur le mouvement general des prix du XVIe au XIXe siecle (Paris, 1932), pp.
114–138. See also essays by Hammarstrom, Brenner and Gould cited above.
26. “An Act to Restrain the Carrying of Corn, Victuals and Wood over the Sea,” in R. H.
Tawney and Eileen Power, eds., Tudor Economic Documents (3 vols., London, 1924) I, 150–
52.
27. In England, one study of prices and wages yields the following result (1550 = 100):
These data are from Y. S. Brenner, “The Inflation of Prices in England, 1551–1650,”
Economic History Review 15 (1962) 266–84; other enquiries have obtained similar results.
28. The pathbreaking work on price-wage differentials was done by German scholars,
particularly M. J. Elsas, Umriss einer Geschichte der Preise und Löhne in Deutschland vom
ausgehenden Mittelalter bis zum Beginn des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts (Leiden, 1936–
1949), a series of price studies centered on six German cities. Virtually every other study also
reports a fall of real wages in the sixteenth century; see Ramsay, The Price Revolution in
Sixteenth Century England, 14, 17; Abel, Agrarkrisen und Agrarkonjunktur, pp. 129–131; E.
Scholliers, De Lebensstandaard in de XVe en XVe eeuw to te Anwerpen (Antwerp, 1960); D.
Bartolini, “Prèzzi e salari nel Commune di Portugruaro durante il secolo XVI,” Annali di
Statistica 2d ser., I (1878). A rare exception is Verlinden, Craeybeckx and Scholliers, “Price
and Wage Movements in Belgium,” who argue (78) that wages hovered very near the level of
subsistence throughout the period.
Hoszowski also reports variations in eastern Europe on the timing of wage movements. In
Austria wages rose slowly in the early 16th century, but faster thereafter. In Poland the pattern
was the reverse: comparatively rapid increases before 1550; slower movements after that date.
Hoszowski concludes that in general “workmen’s wages rose much more slowly than the
prices of crops.” See Stanislas Hoszowski, “Central Europe and the Price Revolution,” 92–93.
29. In Antwerp, the market rate for short term commercial loans in the period 1530–50
was 4–13 percent; in the latter part of the century low-interest loans tended to disappear, and
rates were in the range of 7–12 percent. The same pattern also appeared in Lyons. Loans to
penurious princes commonly carried prodigiously high charges. The house of Fugger, for
example, charged the Hapsburgs as much as 52 percent for short term loans.
At the other extreme, usury laws and strict municipal regulation held nominal interest
rates on annuities to very low levels. But these securities traded far below par, much like
deep-discount securities in today’s bond market. See Sidney Homer, History of Interest Rates
(2d. ed., New Brunswick, 1977), 104–32.
30. Eric Kerridge, “The Movement of Rent, 1540–1640,” Economic History Review, 2d
ser., 6 (1953–54) 16–34.
31. Ibid., 16.
32. Ibid.
33. Hoszowski, “Central Europe and the Price Revolution,” 97–98.
34. H. G. Koenigsberger, “Property and the Price Revolution (Hainault, 1474–1573),”
Economic History Review, 2d ser., 9 (1956) 1–15.
35. Wiebe reckoned that silver stocks in Europe were 9,190,000 kilograms in 1544,
21,400,000 in 1600 and 31,270,000 in 1660. At the same dates, the supply of gold was
815,000 kilos, 1,192,000 and 1,580,000 respectively; see G. Wiebe, Zur Geschichte der
Preisrevolution des XVI. und XVII. Jahrhunderts (Leipzig, 1895), 260. Braudel and Spooner
estimated by three different methods that world stocks of precious metal in 1550 were 3,564.5
tons of gold, and 37,427.3 tons of silver (“Prices in Europe,” 444).
36. Many European price series show that the price-revolution began at various dates
between 1470 and 1510, but American treasure did not arrive in Europe until 1503, and did
not begin to expand in a rapid or sustained manner until after 1526. See Hamilton, American
Treasure, 34–35; Y. S. Brenner, “The Inflation of Prices in Early Sixteenth Century England,”
Economic History Review 14 (1961) 225–39; idem, “The Inflation of Prices in England,
1551–1650,” ibid., 15 (1962) 266–84; C. E. Challis, “Spanish Bullion and Monetary Inflation
in England in the Later Sixteenth Century,” Journal of European Economic History 4 (1975)
381–92; R. A. Doughty, “Industrial Prices and Inflation in Southern England, 1401–1640,”
Explorations in Economic History 12 (1975) 177–92; J. Blum, “Prices in Russia in the
Sixteenth Century,” Journal of Economic History 16 (1956) 182–99; Hammarström, “The
‘Price Revolution’ of the Sixteenth Century: Some Swedish Evidence,” 118–54.
37. The bulk of American silver arrived in Spain after 1580. Of total imports from 1531
to 1660, only 15 percent (2.6 million kilograms) came in the fifty years from 1531 to 1580;
approximately 67 percent (11.6 million kilos) came in the fifty years from 1581 to 1630; 17
percent (2.9 million kgs.) arrived in the thirty-one years from 1630 to 1660; Vicens Vives, An
Economic History of Spain, 323; see also J. Nadal Oller, “La revolutión de los precios
españoles en el siglo XVI,” Hispania 19 (1959) 503–29.
38. The rhythm of change in price levels and in the money supply in England during the
sixteenth century has been elaborately studied. In the period 1542–51, both gold and silver
coins were debased several times under both Henry VIII and Edward VI; then, from 1551 to
1560, the silver coinage was several times reduced in quantity and raised in content of
precious metal. See J. D. Gould, The Great Debasement (Oxford, 1970).
These episodes have been closely examined in one of the most controlled historical tests
of a monistic monetarist model. The results of that test are conceded to constitute a
“contradiction of the basic hypothesis” even by a monetarist as convinced as Anna Schwartz.
She acknowledges that in sixteenth-century England the movement of prices failed to reflect
“the behavior of money stock per unit of output.” (“Secular Price Change in Historical
Perspective,” Journal of Money, Credit and Banking 5 (1973) 243–69.
Similar difficulties also appear in other attempts to correlate the movement of prices with
the stock of money. See, for France and Belgium, J. Lejeune, La formation du capitalisme
moderne dans la principauté de Liège au XVIe siècle (Liege, 1939), 196; for Austria, Poland
and Bohemia, Stanislas Hoszowski, “Central Europe and the Sixteenth-Seventeenth Century
Price Revolution,” in Burke, ed., Economy and Society in Early Modern Europe, 94–95. Even
in Spain, Hamilton himself noted that the curves diverge at the beginning of the sixteenth
century; see American Treasure, 511.
An excellent study of high importance by Michel Morineau also finds that the flow of
American treasure continued at high levels in the late seventeenth century, when prices were
falling. See Morineau, Incroyables gazettes et fabuleux métaux, 563.
All of these authors conclude that the rise of prices was linked in important ways to the
quantity of money and specifically to American treasure. They also agree that the quantity of
money was not the only cause. All but Hamilton think that it was not the first cause. Many
believe it was not the most important cause.
39. These tests were developed at the University of Michigan by Adon and Jeanne
Gordus, and extended by a French team at the Centre Ernest Babelon in Orléans. The first tests
were based on analysis of gold content in Potosí silver; later a method of neutron-activation
analysis was used to detect trace elements of indium, which is present in Andean silver.
See Adon A. Gordus, Jeanne P. Gordus, Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie and D. Richet, “Le
Potosí et la physique nucléaire,” Annales E. S. C. 27 (1972) 1235–56; Adon A. Gordus and
Jeanne P. Gordus, “Identification of Potosí Silver Usage in Sixteenth-Seventeenth Century
European Coinage through Gold-Impurity Content of Coins,” in W. L. Bischoff, ed., The
Coinage of El Perú (New York, 1989) 21–22; idem, “Potosí Silver and Coinage of Early
Modern Europe,” in Hermann Kellenbenz, ed., Precious Metals in the Age of Expansion;
Papers of the XIVth International Congress of the Historical Sciences (Stuttgart, 1981) 225–
242; Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie et al., “Sur les traces de árgent du Potosí,” Annales E.S.C. 45
(1990) 483–505; Dennis O. Flynn, “A New Perspective on the Spanish Price Revolution: The
Monetary Approach to the Balance of Payments,” Explorations in Economic History 15
(1978) 388–406.
40. J. D. Gould, “The Price Revolution Reconsidered,” Economic History Review, 2d
ser. 17 (1965) 249–266; Ingrid Hammarström, “The ‘Price Revolution’ of the Sixteenth
Century,” Y. S. Brenner, “The Inflation of Prices in Early Sixteenth Century England,” 225–39;
idem, “The Inflation of Prices in England, 1551–1650,” 266–84.
41. John U. Nef, “Silver Production in Central Europe, 1450–1618,” Journal of Political
Economy 20 (1941) 575–91. An heroic attempt to place the history of precious metals in a
global context appears in Frank C. Spooner, The International Economy and Monetary
Movements in France, 1493–1725 (Cambridge, Mass., 1972) pp. 9–86. Spooner concludes
that gold was the dominant metal in Europe from 1400 to about 1450; that silver became
dominant from 1450 to the early seventeenth century; and that thereafter a pluralistic monetary
system prevailed: gold, silver, copper and credit. Spooner identifies major flows of silver
from central Europe, gold from Africa, gold and silver from Mexico and Peru, copper from
Hungary, Sweden and Japan. As the supply of each metal expanded its price fell, and the price
of other metals rose in movements of great complexity. By studying these price relatives,
Spooner is able to establish a chronology with remarkable precision, but the critical monetarist
problem of quantity remains elusive; and the problem of velocity is even more difficult.
42. Blum, “Prices in Russia,” 188.
43. Frank Spooner has estimated the quantity of coinage in France, and correlated it with
wheat prices in Paris from 1520 to 1680. The results are most interesting. Annual fluctuations
in wheat prices were not closely associated with the quantity of money coined each year. But
when Spooner compared prices with a moving average of annual coinage through the period
1522–1680, he obtained a high correlation (approximately .70) between the two series. This
association grew even tighter when the moving average of total coinage was lagged by five
years.
But what is most interesting for our wave model is that the the coefficients of correlation
between coinage and prices were highest in the period 1551–1610. They were lower and very
mixed in 1522–1550, and tended to disappear altogether in 1611–1680.
Spooner’s evidence is complex, and problems of interpretation are full of difficulty on
these questions. Nevertheless, two general conclusions appear to emerge. First, the quantity of
the money supply clearly had an effect upon price levels in France. Second, that effect was not
constant through time: it was strongest and most consistent in the middle and later stages of the
price-revolution, and comparatively weak and erratic in the first and last stages.
Spooner himself interprets his own results somewhat differently, but in a manner
consistent with this analysis. “In general,” he writes, “the comparison of the two series of
coinage and prices cannot be said to show a highly significant correlation. . . . On the other
hand, in the longer term, an association exists between periods of violent price changes and
periods of heavy coinage. This remains roughly valid for the inflation of the second half of the
sixteenth century, when coinage reached a peak in 1587. It also remains pertinent for the period
1625–1657, covering the great recoinages of the 1630’s and early 1640’s. . . . Monetary flows
cannot have been wholly responsible for the movement of prices; they were important but their
causal nature must not be overstressed. In this, prudence is necessary.” See Frank C. Spooner,
The International Economy and Monetary Movements in France, 1493–1725 (Cambridge,
1972), pp. 274–80.
44. Marjorie Grice-Hutchinson, The School of Salamanca: Readings in Spanish
Monetary Theory, 1544–1605 (Oxford, 1952), 91; H. Hauser, ed., La response de Jean Bodin
à M. de Malestroit, 1568 (Paris, 1932); other early expressions of the quantity theory include
Noel du Fail, Balivernes et contes d’Entrepal (1548); Gomara, Annals of the Emperor
Charles V (1557); [Thomas Smith?], Discourse of the Common Weal (London, 1581); Gerard
de Malynes, A Treatise of the Canker of England’s Commonwealth (London?, 1601); and the
same author’s England’s View, in the Unmasking of Two Paradoxes; with a Replication unto
the Answer of Maister John Bodine (London, 1603). Some of these works are discussed in A.
E. Munroe, Monetary Theory before Adam Smith (1923; New York, 1966); Claude Nicolet,
“Les variations des prix et la ‘théorie quantitative de la monnaie’ à Rome, de Cicéron à Pline
l’Ancien,” Annales E. S. C. 26 (1971), 1203–27.
45. Tawney and Power, Tudor Economic Documents, I, 74.
46. George Hakewill, An Apologie or Declaration of the Power and Providence of God
in the Government of the World (2d ed., Oxford, 1630); quoted in F. J. Fisher, “Influenza and
Inflation in Tudor England,” Economic History Review 2d ser. 18 (1965) 120–21.
47. John H. Elliott, Imperial Spain, 1469–1716 (1963; New York, 1966), 205.
48. For a summary of this work see the various essays in Bob Scribner and Gerhard
Benecke, The German Peasant War of 1525—New Viewpoints (London, 1979). Of fourteen
essays in this volume, mostly by young German scholars, the majority find close links between
the peasants’ war and the price-revolution.
49. Pieter Geyl, The Revolt of the Netherlands, 1555–1609 (1932; 2d ed., London,
1966), 94.
50. This is the conclusion of three leading historians. “It will no longer do to cut off
religious or political aspects of sixteenth-century life from economic factors,” they write, and
offer evidence of a “link between the iconoclast movement and the high price of grain.” See
Verlinden, Craeybeckx and Scholliers, “Price and Wage Movements in Belgium in the
Sixteenth Century,” 68.
51. Barry E. Supple, Commercial Crisis and Change in England, 1600–1642: A Study in
the Instability of a Mercantile Economy (Cambridge, 1959).
52. Brenner computed decennial averages and standard deviations of English grain prices
(in shillings per quarter) as follows:
The source is Y. S. Brenner, “The Inflation of Prices in Early Sixteenth-Century England,”
231–232.
53. Lane, Venice, 332.
54. This is the argument of F. J. Fisher, “Influenza and Inflation in Tudor England,”
Economic History Review 2d ser. 18 (1965) 120–29.
55. In Haarlem, Dutch scholar Lauris Jansz wrote a play called Van’t Coren (“About
Corn”) dated November 4, 1565, which was furious attack on “monopolists.” See Verlinden,
Craeybeckx and Scholliers, “Price and Wage Movements in Belgium in the Sixteenth Century,”
67.
56. Blum, “Prices in Russia,” 199.
57. Albert Feaveryear, The Pound Sterling: A History of English Money (2d ed., rev. by
E. Victor Morgan, Oxford, 1963), 63.
58. R. B. Outhwaite, Inflation in Tudor and Stuart England (1969; 2d ed., 1982) 54; W.
R. Scott, The Constitution and Finance of English, Scottish and Irish Joint-Stock Companies
to 1720 (3 vols., Cambridge, 1912) I, 78–85.
59. Jaime Vicens Vives, An Economic History of Spain (Princeton, 1969), 384.
60. J.H. Elliott, Imperial Spain, 1469–1716 (New York, 1966), 207–8, 228, 260, 265,
283–4, 287, 329, 352; see also idem, The Old World and the New, 1492–1650 (Cambridge,
England, 1970) 54–78.
61. Outhwaite, Inflation in Tudor and Stuart England, 45.
See also Milton Friedman and Anna Jacobson Schwartz, A Monetary History of the United
States, 1867–1960 (Princeton, 1963), 91; and W. Arthur Lewis, Growth and Fluctuations,
1870–1913 (London, 1978), 91.
7. World population has been estimated at 900 million in 1800, 1.2 billion in 1850, 1.625
billion in 1900, and 2.5 billion in 1950. The rate of increase was approximately the same in
1800–1850 (33 percent) and 1850–1900 (35 percent). From 1900–1950, the rate of gain was
54 percent, despite the horrific cost of two world wars. McEvedy and Jones, Atlas of World
Population History, 342–43.
The important causal linkage was not to population growth alone but to the acceleration of
population growth, relative to the pace of economic growth. The equilibrium of the Victorian
era had also been a time of world population growth but at a slower rate, and in a stable
relationship to economic change.
8. Quoted in W. David Slawson, The New Inflation (Princeton, 1981), 6.
9. Geoffrey Barraclough, An Introduction to Contemporary History (Baltimore, 1967),
chaps. 3, 4.
10. John Stevenson, British Society, 1914–1945 (Harmondsworth, 1984), 46–102; Arthur
Marwick, The Deluge: British Society and the First World War (1965).
11. Carl T. Holtfrerich, “Political Factors of the German Inflation, 1914–1923,” in Nathan
Schmukler and Edward Marcus, eds., Inflation Through the Ages: Economic, Social,
Psychological, and Historical Aspects (New York, 1983), 400–16; Gordon Craig, Germany,
1866–1945 (New York, 1978), 342–57.
12. A. J. P. Taylor, English History, 1914–1945 (Oxford, 1965), 171.
13. R. A. C. Parker, Struggle for Survival; The History of the Second World War
(Oxford, 1989), 76.
14. Historical Statistics of the U.S. (1976), series F4, 224.
15. Prisoner of war camps created their own internal economies in which cigarettes
commonly functioned as money. Prices tended to fluctuate with the supply of tobacco, in a
classical example of the monetarist model. But changing levels of aggregate demand also
played a role.
16. Historical Statistics of the United States (1976), series E, 135. The two exceptional
years were 1949 and 1955.
17. Eric F. Goldman, The Crucial Decade and After: America, 1945–1960 (New York,
1973), 25–26, 46–47.
18. Structural interpretations of inflation include those of Gardiner Means in
“Simultaneous Inflation and Unemployment,” in Means et al., The Roots of Inflation: The
International Crisis (New York, 1975), 19–27; also the many works of Robert Heilbruner.
19. Slawson, New Inflation, 51.
20. Slawson, New Inflation, also idem, “Price Controls for a Peacetime Economy,”
Harvard Law Review 84 (1971) 1090–1107; and idem, “Fighting Stagflation with the Wrong
Weapons,” Princeton Alumni Weekly, 23 Feb. 1983, 33–38. For other “new inflation” theories,
see Robert Lekachman, Economists at Bay (New York, 1976); Dudley Jackson, H. A. Turner,
and Frank Wilkinson, Do Trade Unions Cause Inflation? (Cambridge, 1974); and Bach, New
Inflation.
24. Boston Globe, 4 Oct. 1987; Statistical Abstract of the United States (1984), 745;
(1993), 1225.
25. Jeffrey G. Williamson and Peter H. Lindert, American Inequality: A Macroeconomic
History (New York, 1980); James D. Smith, Modeling the Distribution and Intergenerational
Transmission of Wealth, National Bureau of Economic Research, Studies in Income and
Wealth, vol. 46 (Chicago, 1980); Gabriel Kolko, Wealth and Power in America (New York,
1962).
26. Frank Levy, Dollars and Dreams: The Changing American Income Distribution
(New York, 1987), 1–22; U.S. Bureau of the Census, Household Wealth and Asset Ownership:
1984, Current Population Reports, Household Economic Studies, P-70, no. 7 (Washington,
1986).
27. New York Times, 6 Jan. 1980.
28. This flowed from a promise that President Reagan incautiously made in the election of
1984, that he would not raise taxes. The American electorate tends to be cynical about
campaign promises, but studies have shown that politicians commonly try very hard to keep
them, even at the cost of rigid adherence to wrongheaded policies that would have been
abandoned if honor were not at stake. The Reagan presidency’s stubborn refusal to increase
taxes in the face of fiscal disaster was a classic case in point.
29. Galbraith, Economics in Perspective, 272–273.
30. London Times, ca. 23–28 July 1987. Another factor was an obsession with the
Phillips curve, with its trade-offs between unemployment and inflation. The Thatcher
government, with its middle-class constituency, feared the latter more than the former.
31. New York Times 9 June 1988.
32. Harvey Cushing, The Life of Sir William Osler, vol. 1, chap. 14.
33. Mikhail Gorbachev, Perestroika: New Thinking for Our Country and the World
(New York, 1987), 85.
34. The work of Maris Vinovskis has been specially important in studying population
decline.
35. “What Happened to Inflation?” Economist, 16–22 Sept. 1995, 85.
36. Lester C. Thurow, The Future of Capitalism: How Today’s Economic Forces Shape
Tomorrow’s World (New York, 1996), 185–193; Roger Bootle, The Death of Inflation:
Surviving and Thriving in the Zero Era (London, 1996), 3–31.
Conclusion
1. Alfred, Lord Tennyson, “Locksley Hall, Sixty Years After, Etc.,” in Poems and Plays
of Tennyson (Modern Library ed., New York, 1938), 833–840.
2. Silvester Bliss, Memoir of William Miller (n.p., 1853); Ruth Alden Dean, The Miller
Heresy, Millenialism, and American Culture (Philadelphia, 1987); David Tallmadge Arthur,
Come Out of Babylon: A Study of Millerite Separatism and Denominationalism, 1840–1865
(Rochester, 1970).
3. Galbraith, Economics in Perspective, 4.
4. See Stein, Presidential Economics, on Nixon’s administration as “conservative men
with liberal ideas,” the increasing conservatism of Jimmy Carter, and the absurdity of
Reaganomics.
5. In estimates of average rates of gain, much depends on periodization. These estimates
are calculated from the point of inflection (ca. 1180, 1470, 1730, and 1896), to the maximum.
6. Mitchell, European Historical Statistics, 1750–1975, 772–76.
7. Braudel made these problems more difficult to solve by two errors in his own work.
He entangled the pattern of great waves with Kondratieff cycles, which are certainly a second-
order problem, and possibly a non-problem. He also limited his inquiries too narrowly in time
and space. For a discussion of Kondratieff cycles see appendix E.
8. Fernand Braudel, Perspective of the World (1979; New York, 1984), 82.
9. See pp. 82.
10. Abel, Agrarkrisen und Agrarkonjunktur, 292.
11. Labrousse, Esquisse du mouvement des prix, La crise de l’économie française, the
same argument is made by a student of Labrousse, M. A. Chabert, Essai sur les mouvements
des prix et des revenus en France de 1798 à 1820 (Paris, 1949); Abel, Agrarkrisen und
Agrarkonjunktur, 1–16, 292–97.
12. For other complaints see David Landes, “The Statistical Study of French Crises,”
Journal of Economic History 10 (1950) 195–211.
13. André Marchal, quoted in Braudel, Perspective of the World, 76.
14. John Eddy, “The ‘Maunder Minimum’: Sunspots and Climate in the Reign of Louis
XIV,” in Parker and Smith, eds., General Crisis 226–69.
15. Robert I. Rotberg and Theodore K. Rabb, eds., Climate and History: Studies in
Interdisciplinary History (Princeton, 1981); compare especially essays by Jan De Vries and
Christian Pfister, with author attempting to find a mediating position (pp. 19–50, 85–116, 241–
50).
16. There are at least three other explanations of wealth distribution in the literature: the
Pareto model, which attributes inequality mainly to constant genetic factors; the Marxist model,
which links it to long movements in the organization of the means of production; and the
Kuznets “inverted U model,” which argues that inequality increases when more economic
growth begins and diminishes as rapid growth continues. None of these models fits the
empirical patterns of change in wealth distribution. See S. Robinson, “A Note on the U
Hypothesis Relating Income Inequality and Economic Development,” American Economic
Review 66 (1976) 437–40; Williamson and Lindert, American Inequality, 281–94 and
Appendix L, above.
17. Quoted in May McKisack, The Fourteenth Century, 1307–1399 (Oxford, 1959), 50.
18. C. Lowell Harris, Inflation: Long-Term Problems, Proceedings of the Academy of
Political Science, 31 (New York, 1975).
19. New York Times, Oct. 4, 1995. At present the various data-gathering agencies of the
U.S. government have compiled only one single series of statistical data through the full span
of American history—a set of population estimates that are grossly inaccurate through the first
two centuries. There are no comprehensive price or wage series for American economic
history before 1890, except those compiled by individual scholars; no comprehensive data on
production except for the past century; and no satisfactory data on wealth distribution for any
period of American history. These historical data are necessary to give context and meaning to
current indicators.
20. Hugh Rockoff, “Price and Wage Controls in Four Wartime Periods,” Journal of
Economic History 41 (1981) 381–401.
21. Levy, Dollars and Dreams, 13n.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Published Sources for the History of Prices
THE AMERICAN ECONOMIST Thurston Adams began his research on the history of prices
in Vermont by inviting the people of that state to send him farmers’ account books from the
period 1790–1840. He was amazed to receive four tons of records.
This embarrassment of riches exists very generally in the history of prices. No definitive
bibliography exists for this subject, partly because of the vast abundance of primary and
secondary materials. The most recent general bibliographies published separately in English
appeared more than eighty years ago: the New York Public Library’s List of Works in the
Library Relating to Prices (New York, 1902) and Hermann H. B. Meyer, Select List of
References on the Cost of Living and Prices (Washington, 1910). More restricted in coverage
are economic bibliographies such as Paul Wasserman, Sources of Commodity Prices (New
York, 1959), and Joe S. Bain, Literature on Price Policy and Related Topics, 1933–1947; A
Selective Bibliography (Berkeley, 1947).
Historical bibliographies appear in Ruggiero Romano, ed.,I Prèzzi in Europa dal XVIII
sècolo a òggi (Turin, 1967), 569–90, which is specially helpful on the large and very rich
Italian journal literature. An excellent bibliography is attached to Georges and Geneviève
Frêche, Les prix des grains, des vins et des légumes à Toulouse (1486–1868): Extraits des
Mercuriales suivis d’une bibliographic d’histoire des prix (Paris, 1967), which was meant to
supplement bibliographies in C. E. Labrousse, Esquisse du mouvement des prix et revenus en
France, au XVIIIe siécle (Paris, 1933), 5, 11–12, 650–64. These two works are very strong
for the rich harvest of monographs that appeared in France. German bibliographies have been
published in the works of Alfred Jacobs and Wilhelm Abel, cited below. Many local studies
cited in these works are not repeated here. Also useful is W. H. Chaloner and R. C.
Richardson, Bibliography of British Economic and Social History (Manchester, 1984); and
Derek H. Aldcroft and Richard Rodger, Bibliography of European Economic and Social
History (Manchester, 1984), which is limited to literature in English for the modern period. A
second edition appeared in 1992. Bibliographies also appear in various volumes of the
Cambridge Economic History of Europe, especially volume 4, 605–15. A Price History
Newsletter (1984) has been issued by the American historian John McCusker. Specialized
bibliographies are noted below.
The following survey of printed materials is far from definitive, but it attempts to include
major published works of general interest on the history of prices. Inevitably many titles have
been missed. Additions and corrections are welcome for future editions. The bibliography is
divided into the following parts:
primary sources
mercuriales
price currents
historical compilations
serial publications
materials on the analysis of primary sources
secondary sources
general works
economic theory
social theory
historical models
general works on related subjects
Mercuriales
The growth of the literature on prices has an historical rhythm which is linked to price-
revolutions themselves. The first important serial publications appeared during the price-
revolution of the sixteenth century, when price records began to be compiled in weekly or
monthly market surveys called mercuriales. The earliest long series known to the author were
kept in the city of Toulouse and have been published in Georges and Genevieve Freche, Les
prix des grains, des vins et des légumes à Toulouse (1486–1868), cited above. Another run of
mercuriales exists for Paris from as early as 1520. They are analyzed in Micheline Baulant[-
Duchaillut] and Jean Meuvret, Prix des céréales extraits de la mercuriale de Paris (1520–
1698) (2 vols., Paris, 1960–62). Yet another set of mercuriales for seven market towns in the
northern part of the Ile-de-France is published in J. Dupaquier, M. Lachiver and J. Meuvret,
Mercuriales du pays de France et du Vexin Français, 1640–1792 (Paris, 1968).
A large journal literature on these sources, with major contributions by Marc Bloch,
Pierre Chaunu, C. E. Labrousse, and others, is surveyed by George and Geneviève Frêche. To
their excellent bibliography might be added Jean Georges, “Les mercuriales d’ Angoulême, de
Cognac et de Jarnac (1593–1797),” Bulletin et Memoires de la Societé d’Histoire et
Archeologie de la Charente 64 (1920); J. C. Humblot, “Les mercuriales de Langres du XVe au
XIX2 siècle,” Revue de Champagne et de Brie 9 (1897); R. Vaschalde, “Les mercuriales du
Vivarais,” Bulletin de la Societé d’Agriculture du Departement de l’Ardèche (1874); Abbe
Merle, “Mercuriales de la Grenette de Boen au XVIIe et au XVIIIe siècle,” Bulletin de la
Diana 24 (1931); Jean Meuvret, “Les prix des grains à Paris au XVe siècle et les origines de
la mercuriale,” Paris et Ile-de-France 2 (1960) 283–311; Franz Irsigler, “La mercuriale de
Cologne (1531–1797): Structure de marché et conjoncture des prix céréaliers,” Annales E.S.C.
33 (1978) 93–114. On methodological problems, see C. E. Labrousse, “Comment controler les
mercuriales? Le test de concordance,” Annales d’Histoire Sociale 2 (1940) 117–30.
Price Currents
As early as the 1580s, small newspapers called price currents began to appear in
Antwerp, Amsterdam, Hamburg, and other commercial centers of western Europe. They spread
slowly to the English-speaking world, not appearing in London until the late seventeenth
century, or in America until the late eighteenth. By the mid-nineteenth century, price currents
were published in European colonies throughout the world, from Havana to Hong Kong and
Calcutta. During the 1950s, a very good set of price currents was buried in the basement of the
Maryland Historical Society, where the author discovered them as a schoolboy and spent
happy hours turning their musty pages when he was supposed to be conjugating his Latin verbs.
During the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, prices were also reported in general
newspapers and magazines. Contemporary essayists commonly derived their economic data
from these sources, which in many commercial centers have not been systematically collected
and published. Discussions of these materials appear in Jacob M. Price, “Notes on Some
London Price Currents, 1667–1715,” Economic History Review 2d ser. 7 (1954–55) 240–50;
idem, “A Note on the Circulation of the London Press, 1704–1714,” Bulletin of the Institute of
Historical Research 31 (1958) 215–24; N. W. Posthumus, “Lijst van documenten,”
Economisch-Historisch Jaarboek 13 (1927) xliii-lx; L. W. Hanson, Contemporary Printed
Sources for British and Irish Economic History, 1701–1750 (Cambridge, 1963); and John J.
McCusker, Money and Exchange in Europe and America, 1600–1775: A Handbook (Chapel
Hill, 1978).
Latin America
In Latin America more than Europe, many publications with primary material are
continental rather than national in scope. A brief but helpful survey is E. Florescano, “La
historia de los precios en la época colonial de Hispanoamérica: Tendencias, métodos de
trabajos y objetivos,” LatinoAmérica: Anuario de Estudios Latinamericanos (1968) 111–29.
In a class by itself is Ruggiero Romano, “Movimento de los precios y desarrollo
económico: El caso de Sudamérica en el siglo XVIII,” Desarrollo Económico 3 (1963) 31–
43; idem, “Mouvement de prix et développement économique: le cas de l’Amerique du Sud au
XVIIIe siècle,” 2e Conference Internationale d’Histoire Économique, Aix-en-Provence, 1962
(The Hague, 1962) 2:141–53; idem, Historia colonial hispanio-americana e historia de los
precios (Santiago, 1963); idem, “Some Considerations on the History of Prices in Colonial
Latin America,” in Lyman L. Johnson and Enrique Tandeter, eds., Essays on the Price History
of Eighteenth-Century Latin America (Albuquerque, 1990), 35–72. Romano argues a thesis
that price trends in Latin America were the opposite of those in Europe (see appendix D).
Johnson and Tandeter include twelve essays, most of which take issue with Romano. A
broad perspective also appears in Steven A. Mange, “Commodity Price Movements in the
Andes and La Plata during the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries” (thesis, Chicago, 1988).
Australia
Prices are included in in Jennifer A. S. Finlayson, Historical Statistics of Australia
(Canberra, 1970). Still useful is Douglas B. Copland, Currency and Prices in Australia
(Adelaide, 1921).
Austria
A. F. Pribram et al., Materielen zur Geschichte der Preise und Löhne in Osterreich
(Vienna, 1938) is the leading collection of historical prices for Austria. It is based mainly on
institutional prices. Other studies include Luschin von Ebengreuth, Vorschlage und
Erfordernisse für eine Geschichte der Preise und Löhne in Osterreich (Vienna, 1874); K. T.
Inama-Sternegg, Beiträge zur Geschichte der Preise (Vienna, 1873); idem, “Die Quellen der
historischen Preisstatistik,” Statistiche Monatschriften 12 (1886); Alois Gehart, Statistik in
Osterreich, 1918–1938: Eine Bibliographie (Vienna, 1984). Price records for Austria-
Hungary were also published by B. Von Jankovich in Bulletin de l’Institut Internationale de
Statistique 19 (1911).
Bolivia
Enrique Tandeter and Nathan Wachtel, “Prices and Agricultural Production: Potosí and
Charcas in the Eighteenth Century,” in Lyman L. Johnson and Enrique Tandeter, eds., Essays on
the Price History of Eighteenth-Century Latin America (Albuquerque, 1995), 201–76.
Brooke Larson, “Rural Rhythms of Class Conflict in Eighteenth-Century Cochabamba,” in
Lyman L. Johnson and Enrique Tandeter, Essays on the Price History of Eighteenth-Century
Latin America (Albuquerque, 1990), 277–308.
José Maria Dalence, Bosquejo estadístico de Bolivia (Chuquisaca, 1851).
W. L. Schurz, Bolivia: A Commercial and Industrial Handbook (Washington, 1921).
United Nations Economic Commission, El desarrollo económico de Bolivia (Mexico,
1957), includes data from the 1920s to the 1950s.
Cornelius H. Zondag, The Bolivian Economy (New York, 1966) publishes data for the
period 1952–65.
Brazil
Dauril Alden, “Price Movements in Brazil before, during, and after the Gold Boom, with
Special Reference to the Salvador Market [circa 1670–1769],” in Lyman L. Johnson and
Enrique Tandeter, eds., Essays on the Price History of Eighteenth-Century Latin America
(Albuquerque, 1990), 335–72.
H. Johnson Jr., “A Preliminary Inquiry into Money, Prices, and Wages in Rio de Janeiro,
1763–1823,” in Dauril Alden, ed., Colonial Roots of Modern Brazil; Papers of the Newberry
Library Conference (Berkeley, 1973), 230–83.
Katia M. de Queiros Mattoso, “Conjoncture et société au Brésil à la fin de XVIIIe siècle.
Prix et salaire à la veille de revolution de alfaiates, Bahia, 1798,” Cahiers des Ameriques
Latines 5 (1970) 3–53.
Mirceu Buescu, 300 anos de inflaçâo (Rio de Janeiro, 1973).
Armin K. Ludwig, Brazil: A Handbook of Historical Statistics (Boston, 1985).
Canada
F. Ouellet and J. Hamelin, “Le mouvement des prix agricoles dans la province de Quebec
(1760–1815),” n.p., n.d.; idem, “La crise agricole dans le Bas-Canada,” Études Rurales 7
(1962) 36–57.
H. Michel et al., Statistical Contributions to Canadian Economic History (2 vols.,
Toronto, 1931), includes statistics on banking, foreign trade, and prices.
M. C. Urquhart and Kenneth A. Buckley, Historical Statistics of Canada (Toronto,
1965).
F. H. Leacy, ed., Historical Statistics of Canada (Ottawa, 1983).
Newfoundland Statistics Agency, Historical Statistics of Newfoundland and Labrador
(St. Johns, 1970).
Chile
Ruggiero Romano, “Une économie coloniale: le Chili au XVIIIe siècle,” Annales E.S.C.
15 (1960) 259–85; idem, “Historia colonial hispanoAmericana e historia de los precios,” in
Tres lecciones inaugurales (Santiago de Chile, 1963).
José Manuel Larraín, “Gross National Product and Prices: The Chilean Case in the
Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries,” in Lyman L. Johnson and Enrique Tandeter, eds.,
Essays on the Price History of Eighteenth-Century Latin America (Albuquerque, 1990),
109–136; idem, “Movimento de precios en Santiago de Chile, 1749–1808,” Jahrbuch für
Geschichte von Staatwirtschaft und Gesellschaft Latinamerikas 17 (1980) 199–259.
Armando de Ramón and José Manuel Larraín, Origines de la vida económica chilena,
(Santiago, 1982), includes price series from 1659 to 1808.
Marcello Carmagnani, Les mecanismes de la vie économique dans une societé
coloniale: Le Chile (Paris, 1973), with much statistical data for the period 1680–1830; idem,
El salariado minero en Chile colonial: au desarrollo en una sociedad provincial: el Norte
Chico, 1690–1800 (Santiago de Chile, 1963).
Markos J. Mamalakis, Historical Statistics of Chile (5 vols, to date, Westport, Conn.,
1978–85+), includes prices from 1860 to 1982.
China
Period-specific price histories with primary data from the fourteenth to the twentieth
centuries include:
Ch’uan Han-sheng, “Sung-Ming chien pai-yin kou-mai-li ti pien-tung chi ch’i yuan-yin”
[Fluctuations in the purchasing power of silver and their cause from the Sung to the Ming
dynasties] Hsin-ya-hseuh-pao [New Asian Journal] 8 (1967) 157–86, with a summary in
English.
M. Cartier, “Notes sur l’histoire des prix en Chine du XIVe au XVIIe siècle,” [1368–
1644] Annales E. S. C. 24 (1969) 1876–89; idem, “Les importations de metaux monetaires en
Chine: Essai sur la conjoncture chinoise,” ibid. 36 (1981) 454–66.
W. S. Atwell, “Notes on Silver, Foreign Trade, and the Late Ming Economy,” Ch’ing shih
wen-ti” 3 (1977) 1–33; idem, “International Bullion Flows and the Chinese Economy, circa
1530–1650,” Past & Present 95 (1982) 68–90.
P. Liu and K. Huang, “Population Change and Economic Development in Mainland China
since 1400,” in C. Hou and T. Yu, eds., Modern Chinese Economic History (Taipei, 1977),
61–81.
Yeh-chien Wang, “The Secular Trend of Prices during the Ch’ing Period,” Journal of the
Institute of Chinese Studies of the Chinese University of Hong Kong 5 (1972) 364, covers
the period 1644–1912.
Nankai University Committee on Social and Economic Research, Wholesale Prices and
Price Index Numbers in North China, 1913 to 1929 (Tientsin, 1929).
Franklin L. Ho, Index Numbers of the Quantities and Prices of Imports and Exports and
the Barter Terms of Trade in China, 1867–1928 (Tientsin, 1930).
L. L. Chang, “Farm Prices in Wuchin, Kangsu, China,” Chinese Economic Journal 10
(1932) 449–512.
Hsin Ying, Price Problems of Communist China (Kowloon, 1963).
Cuba
Susan Schroeder, Cuba: A Handbook of Historical Statistics (Boston, 1982), includes
prices.
Czechoslovakia
Stanislas Hoszowski, “L’Europe centrale devant la révolution des prix,” Annales E.S.C.
16 (1961) 441–56, cites studies by J. Janacek, A. Mika, and J. Novotny which I have not seen.
Denmark
A general work of exceptionally high quality is Astrid Friis and Kristof Glamann, A
History of Prices and Wages in Denmark, 1660–1800 (Copenhagen and London, 1958), vol. 1
only published to date. It is based on assizes and price currents in Copenhagen.
Two pioneering projects by Danish economists are William Scharling, Pengenes
synkende Vaerdi (Copenhagen, 1869); and idem and V. FalbeHansen, Danmarks Statistik (6
vols., Copenhagen, 1878–91).
A. Nielsen, “Dänische Preise, 1650–1750,” in Jahrbuch für Nationalökonomie und
Statistik 31 (1906) 289–347.
L. Rumur, “Assessed Average Market Prices and the Prices of Cereal Grains in Denmark,
1600–1850,” Scandinavian Economic History Review 18 (1970) 33–65.
For later periods, see Jorgen Pedersen and O. Strange Petersen, An Analysis of Price
Behaviour during the Period 1855–1913 (Copenhagen and London, 1938); Jorgen Pedersen,
Arbejdsønnen i Danmark under skiftende Konjunkturer, c. 1850–1913 (Copenhagen, 1913), a
history of wages in Denmark; and K. Bjerke and N. Ussing, Studier over Danmarks National
Produkt, 1870–1950 (Copenhagen, 1958).
A methodological work with particular attention to Danish materials is P. Thestrup, The
Standard of Living in Copenhagen, 1730–1800: Some Methods of Measurement
(Copenhagen, 1971).
Finland
“Markegangspris i Finland 1731–1870,” [Market Prices in Finland] Statistika
Oversitkter (1926). I have not been able to find this work in American libraries.
Hungary
I. N. Kiss, “Money, Prices, Values, and Purchasing Power from the Sixteenth to the
Eightenth Century,” Journal of European Economic History 9 (1980).
R. Horvath, “Monetary Inflation in Hungary during the Napoleonic Wars,” Journal of
European Economic History 5 (1976); idem “The Interdependence of Economic and
Demographic Development in Hungary (from the mid-eighteenth to the mid-nineteenth
centuries),” in Proceedings of the Fourth International Economic History Conference,
Bloomington, 1968 (Paris, 1973).
L. Katus, “Economic Growth in Hungary during the Age of Dualism, 1867–1918, A
Quantitative Analysis” Studia Historica 62 (1970)
E. Pamlenyi, ed., Social-Economic Researches on the History of East Central Europe
(Budapest, 1980)
India
J. J. Brennig, “Silver in Seventeenth-Century Surat: Money Circulation and the Price
Revolution in Mughal India,” in John F. Richards, ed., Precious Metals in the Later Medieval
and Early Modern World (Durham, 1983), 477–96.
John F. Richards, ed., The Imperial Monetary System of Mughal India (Delhi, 1987).
Aziza Hazan, “En Inde aux XVIe et XVIIe siècles: Trésors Américains, monnaie d’argent
et prix dans l’empire Mogol,” Annales E.S.C. 24 (1969) 835–859, includes data from 1556 to
1705.
India Department of Commercial Intelligence and Statistics, Index Numbers of Indian
Prices, 1861–1926 (Calcutta, 1928).
Tirthankar Roy, “Price Movements in Early Twentieth-Century India,” Economic History
Review 2d ser. 48 (1995) 118–33, includes price series from 1900 to 1933, and 1953 to 1987.
Lakshini Narain, Price Movements in India, 1929–1957 (Meerut, 1957).
David Singh, Inflationary Price Trends in India since 1939 (Bombay, 1957; 2d ed., New
York, 1961).
Ireland
Edward Nevin, The Irish Price Level: A Comparative Study (Dublin, 1962).
C. St. J. Oherlihy, A Statistical Study of Wages, Prices, and Employment in the Irish
Manufacturing Sector (Dublin, 1966).
Wm. E. Vaughan and André J. Fitzpatrick, Irish Historical Statistics, vol. 1, Population
(Dublin, 1978); a subsequent volume is promised on Irish prices.
Japan
Kokisha Asakuri and Chiaki Nishiyama, eds., A Monetary Analysis and History of the
Japanese Economy, 1868–1970 (Tokyo, 1974).
Kakujiro Yamasaki, The Effect of the World War upon Commerce and Industry in Japan
(New Haven, 1929), includes prices, ca. 1914–1929.
Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers, Staple Food Prices in Japan, 1930–1948
(Tokyo, 1949).
Bank of Japan, Statistics Department, Hundred Year Statistics of the Japanese Economy
(Tokyo, 1966).
Kazushi Ohkawa et al., Estimates of Long-Term Economic Statistics of Japan since
1968 (Tokyo, 1965).
Luxembourg
J. Ruwet et al, Marché des ceréales a Ruremonde, Luxembourg, Namur et Diest aux
XVIIe et XVIIIe siècles (Louvain, 1966).
Madagascar
Frederic L. Pryor, Income Distribution and Economic Development in Madagascar:
Some Historical Statistics (Washington, World Bank, 1988).
Mali
Pascal J. Imperato and Eleanor M. Imperato, Mali: A Handbook of Historical Statistics
(Boston, 1982).
Malawi
Frederic L. Pryor, Income Distribution and Economic Development in Malawi: Some
Historical Statistics (Washington, World Bank, 1988).
Mexico
A large literature includes Woodrow Wilson Borah and Sherburne F. Cook, Price Trends
of Some Basic Commodities in Central Mexico, 1531–1570 (Berkeley and Los Angeles,
1958); Enrique Florescano, Precios del maíz y crisis agrícolas en México (1708–1810)
(Mexico City, 1969, 1971); Richard L. Garner, “Price Trends in Eighteenth-Century Mexico,”
Hispanic American Historical Review 65 (1985); and idem, “Prices and Wages in Eighteenth-
Century Mexico,” in Lyman L. Johnson and Enrique Tandeter, eds., Essays on the Price
History of Eighteenth-Century Latin America (Albuquerque, 1995), 73–108.
New Zealand
James W. McIlraith, The Course of Prices in New Zealand [1861–1910] (Wellington,
1911).
Malcolm Frasier, Prices: An Inquiry into Prices in New Zealand, 1891–1919
(Wellington, 1920).
Gerald I. Bloomfield, New Zealand: A Handbook of Historical Statistics (Boston,
1984).
Pakistan
Central Statistical Office, Twenty-Five Years of Pakistan in Statistics, 1947–1972
(Karachi, 1972).
Peru
G. Lohmann Villena, Apuntaciónes sobre el cur so de los precios de los articulos de
primer a necesidad en Lima durante el siglo XVI (Lima, 1961).
Luis Miguel Glave and Maria Isabel Remy, Estructura agraria y vida rural en una
region andina: Ollantay-tambo entre los sighs XVI y XIX (Cuzco, 1983).
Pablo Macera and Rosario Jiméniz, “Precios: Lima, 1667–1738” (mimeograph, Lima,
n.d.); Pablo Macera and Rosa Boccolini, “Precios de Iocs Colegios de ka Cia de Jesu’s,
Arequipa, 1627–1767” (mimeograph, Lima, 1975).
Paul Gootenberg, “Carneros y Chuño: Price Levels in Nineteenth-Century Peru”
(unpublished ms., 1988).
Kendall Brown, “Price Movements in Eighteenth-Century Peru: An Overview,” in Lyman
L. Johnson and Enrique Tandeter, eds., Essays on the Price History of Eighteenth-Century
Latin America (Albuquerque, 1995), 173–200.
Philippines
Pierre Chaunu, Les Philippines et le Pacifique des Ibériques (Paris, 1960).
Poland
F. Bujak, Badania z dziejow spolecznych i gospodarczych (Recherches sur l’ histoire
sociale et economique (Lwow and Poznan, 1928–49); includes price data in vols 4:13–17,
21–22, 24–25.
[Cracow] J. Pelc, Ceny w Krakowie w latach 1369–1600 (Lwow, 1935); E.
Tomaszewski, Ceny w Krakowie w latach 1601–1795 (Lwow, 1934); Frêche and Frêche
report a French edition, idem, Lesprix à Cracovie de 1601 a 1795 (Lwow, 1934), not seen.
[Gdansk] J. Pelc, Ceny w Gda sku w XVI i XVII wieku (Lwow, 1937); Tadeusz Furtac,
Ceny w Gda sku w latach 1701–1815 (Lwow, 1935).
[Lublin] W. Adamczyk, Ceny w Lublinie od XVI do ko ca XVIII wieku (Lwow, 1935).
[Lvov] Stanislas Hoszowski, Ceny we Lwowie w XVI i XVII wieku (Lwow, 1928),
French tr. Les prix a Lwow (Paris, 1954); Stanislas Hoszowski, Ceny we Lwowie w latach,
1701–1914 (Lwow, 1934).
[Warsaw] W. Adamczyk, Ceny w Warzawie w XVI i XVII wieku (Lwow, 1938); S. Siegel,
Ceny a Warzawie w latch 1701–1815 (Lwow, 1936).
Portugal
V. M. Godinho, Prix et monnaies au Portugal, 1750–1850, (Paris, 1955).
F. Mauro, Le Portugal et l’ Atlantique au XVIIe siècle (1570–1670) (Paris, 1957).
Joel Serrão, ed., Dicionário de História de Portugal (4 vols., Lisbon, 1971), includes
historical statistics and prices.
R. de Moraes Soares, “Resumo historico dos preços de cereaes e outros generos
alimentares no continento do Reino,” Archivo Rural 2 (1859) 436–40, 462–66.
[Lisbon] A. Silbert, “Contribution a l’étude du mouvement du prix des céréales à
Lisbonne (du milieu du XVIIIe au milieu du XIXe siècle,” Revista de Economia (1953) 65–80.
Frêche and Frêche also cite local studies by Albade de Bacal and F. M. Alves on prices
in Braganza, and by A. d’Ayres Lanca Pereira on the economic history of Beja. I have not seen
these works.
Russia
V. O. Klutchevsky [sic], Le rouble russe des XVIe et XVIIe siècles, et son rapport avec le
rouble actuel: Essais et études (St. Petersburg, 1918).
A. G. Mankov, Le mouvement des prix dans l’ état Russe du XVIe siècle, (Paris, 1957); a
summary of Mankov’s work for English readers is Jerome Blum, “Prices in Russia in the
Sixteenth Century,” Journal of Economic History 16 (1956) 182–99.
Boris Mironov, “The ‘Price Revolution’ in Eighteenth-Century Russia,” Soviet Studies in
History 11 (1973) 325–52; idem, “Le mouvement des prix des céréales en Russie du XVIIIe
siècle au début du XXe siècle,” Annales E.S.C. 41 (1986) 217–51. In the reign of Peter I,
Russia became the first nation in Europe to collect monthly information on grain prices for all
its provinces. Mironov’s research rests upon these data, which run unbroken from 1707 to
1914. This essay summarizes the author’s thesis at Leningrad and many other monographs. It
also includes a bibliography.
V. N. Jakovchevsky, Kupechesky kapital v feodal’ no-krepostnicheskoi (Moscow, 1959);
partly translated as “I Prèzzi ed il profitto commerciale nella Russia feudal-servile,” in
Romano, ed., I Prèzzi in Europa dall XIII secolo a oggi, 447–80; a study of prices in Russia
during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.
W. M. Pintner, “Inflation in Russia during the Crimean War Period,” Slavic Review 18
(1959) 81–87.
A. Roger Clarke and J. I. Matko, Soviet Economic Facts, 1917–81 (2d ed., London,
1983).
A. Bergson, “Prices of Basic Industrial Products in the U.S.S.R., 1928–1950,” Journal of
Political Economy 64 (1956); idem, Basic Industrial Prices in the U.S.S.R. 1928–56:
Twenty-five Branch Series and Their Aggregation (Santa Monica, 1956).
I. B. Kravis and J. Mintzes, “Food Prices in the Soviet Union, 1936–1950,” Review of
Economics and Statistics 32 (1950) 164–68.
M. C. Kaser, “Soviet Statistics of Wages and Prices,” Soviet Studies 7 (1955–56).
Sri Lanka
Patrick Peebles, Sri Lanka: A Handbook of Historical Statistics (Boston, 1982).
Switzerland
Vettiger, Die Agrare Preispolitik des Kantons Basel im 18 Jahrhundert (Weinfelden,
1941), not found.
Francois G. Dreyfus, “Beitrag zu den Preisbewegungen im Oberrheingebiet im 18
Jahrhundert,” Vierteljahrshrift für Sozial- und Wirtschaftsgeschichte 47 (1960) 245–56.
Emil Notz, Die säkulare entwicklung der Kaufkraft des geldes für Basel in den
perioden 1800–1833 und 1892–1923 (Jena, 1925).
Thailand
Constance M. Wilson, Thailand: A Handbook of Historical Statistics (Boston, 1983).
Venezuela
Robert J. Ferry, “The Price of Cacao, Its Export, and Rebellion in Eighteenth-Century
Caracas,” in Lyman L. Johnson and Enrique Tandeter, eds., Essays on the Price History of
Eighteenth-Century Latin America (Albuquerque, 1990), 309–34
Yugoslavia
J. Tadic, Organizacija dubrowaczkog pomortstwa u XVI veku (Belgrade, 1949); idem,
“Les archives économiques de Raguse,” Annales E.S.C. 16 (1961)1168–75.
Serial Publications
During the nineteenth century, many nations began to issue statistical yearbooks which
often included prices and wages. These compendia contain strong biases. Most governments
have used their statistical reports as political instruments, to minimize their problems and
exaggerate their strengths. Communist regimes treated social statistics alternately as state
secrets and ideological weapons. Capitalist nations have tended to suppress statistics of
wealth distribution.
Nevertheless, statistical yearbooks and other serial publications remain historical sources
of high importance. Coverage of prices, wages, GNP deflators, etc., has steadily improved in
these works. So also has the accuracy of the data.
The oldest national statistical yearbook in continuous publication is Britain’s Annual
Abstract of Statistics, which first appeared in 1854, together with a volume summarizing data
from 1840 to 1853. France began to publish annual statistical abstracts in 1876. Italy and the
United States followed in 1878, Germany in 1880, and the Netherlands in 1881. During the
twentieth century these compilations have begun to appear in most nations throughout the
world.
Except in French- and Spanish-speaking nations, most yearbooks now tend to appear in
multilingual or bilingual editions. As recently as 1939, the international language of statistics
was French. After 1945 it rapidly became English, and is increasingly so throughout the world.
Today several non-English-speaking nations publish their statistical yearbooks in English
alone. The leading materials are as follows.
Bibliographical Guides
Jacqueline Wasserman O’Brien and Stephen R. Wasserman, Statistics Sources (2 vols.,
Detroit, 1989 +), annual; a bibliography of current statistical materials, bibliographies, and
online statistical data throughout the world.
International Compilations
United Nations, Statistical Yearbook and Monthly Bulletin of Statistics (1947 +);
Monthly Commodity Price Bulletin (1969 +); Yearbook of Labour Statistics (1950 +) and
Monthly Bulletin of Labor Statistics (1950 +).
International Monetary Fund, International Financial Statistics (1948 +), monthly and
annual.
OECD, Main Economic Indicators (1965+), monthly.
Austria
Statistische Zentralkommission, Tafeln zur Statistik der Osterreichischen Monarchie,
1842–59 (Vienna, n.d.).
Statistisches Zentralkommission, Statistisches Jahrbuch der Osterreichisches
Monarchie, 1861–80 (Vienna, 1861–81), annual; idem, Osterreichisches Statistisches
Handbuch, 1882–1917 (Vienna, 1882–1917), annual.
Statistiches Zentralamt, Statistisches Jahrbuch für Osterreich, 1919–36 (Vienna, 1919–
36), annual. Publication was suspended after the Anschluss.
Statistiches Zentralamt, Statistisches Handbuch für die Republik Osterreich, 1950 +
(Vienna, 1950 +), mostly annual.
Belgium
Institut National de Statistique, Annuaire statistique de la Belgique, 1870 + (Brussels,
1870 +) mostly annual; title varies: from 1912 to 1959 (vols. 42–80) it was published as
Annuaire statistique de la Belgique et du Congo belge.
Brazil
Conselho Nacional de Estatistica, Anuario estatistico do Brasil, quinquennial from
1908/12 to 1970, annual from 1971 (Rio de Janeiro and Brasilias, 1913 +).
Bulgaria
Glavna Direktsiia na Statistikata, Statisticheski Godishnik na Tsarstvo Bulgari, also
issued in French as Annuaire statistique du Royaume de Bulgarie, 1910–42, mostly annual
(Sofia, 1909–41); idem, Statistickeski Godishnik na Narodnata Republika Bulgariia, annual,
1947/48+ (Sofia, 1948 +), also issued in English as Statistical Yearbook of the People’s
Republic of Bulgaria, irregular, 1962+ (Sofia, 1962 +).
Canada
Census and Statistics Office, Canada Yearbook, 1905+ (Ottawa, 1906+), annual, text in
English and French; idem, Prices and Price Indexes (1918–52) mostly annual, text in English
and French; idem, Prices and Price Indexes, (Ottowa, 1952 +), monthly, text in English and
French.
Chile
Dirección General da Estadistica, Anuario estadistico, mostly annual, 1848/58–1925
(Santiago, 1860+); Estadistica anual, mostly annual, 1928 + (Santiago, 1928 +).
China
China Yearbook, unofficial compilation, annual, 1912–39, (London, New York, and
Tientsin, 1912–39).
Chinese Yearbook, mostly annual, 1935/36–1944/45 (Chungking, 1935–46).
State Statistical Bureau, Statistical Yearbook of China, annual, 1981 + (English language
edition distributed by Oxford University Press, 1982 +); the 1986 edition includes consumer
prices from 1950.
Czechoslovakia
Statni urad statisticky, Manuel Statistique de la Republicque Tchecoslovaque, annual,
(Prague, 1920–32).
Statisticka Rocenka Ceskoslovenske Socialisticke Republiky, annual, 1934–38.
Statistical Handbook of the Czech Republic, 1942 (London, 1942).
Statisticka Prirucka Slovenska, 1947–48.
Statisticka Rocenka Ceskoslovenske Socialisticke Republiky, annual, (Prague, 1953–
89).
Statisticka Rocenka Ceske a Slovenske Federativni Republicky, annual, (Prague, 1990
+)
Denmark
Statistiske Bureau, Statistisk aarbog, annual from 1892 (Copenhagen, 1896 +); text in
Danish and French to 1951, Danish and English thereafter.
Finland
Stattika Centralbyran, Suomen Tilastollinen Vuosikinja, mostly annual, 1879+ (Helsinki,
1883 +); text in Finnish, Swedish, and French 1934–52; Finnish, Swedish, and English 1953 +.
France
Institut National de la Statistique et des Études Économiques, Annuaire statistique de la
France, mostly annual, 1876+ (Paris, 1876).
Germany
Statistiches Reichsamt, Statistisches Jahrbuch für das Deutsches Reich, annual, 1880–
1940/1 (Berlin, 1880–1941).
Federal Republic of Germany, Statistiches Bundesamt, Statistiches Jahrbuch für die
Bundesrepublik Deutschland, annual, 1952 + (Bonn, 1952 +); an abridged edition, Handbook
of Statistics for the Federal Republic of Germany (Stuttgart, 1961 +), is published triennially
in English.
Staatliche Zentralverwaltung für Statistik, Statistiches Jahrbuch der Deutschen
Demokratischen Republik, annual (Berlin, 1955–90); also issued in English as East German
Statistical Yearbook. Absorbed by the Statistiches Jahrbuch from 1991.
Greece
Ethnike Statistike Hyperesia, Statistike epeteristes Hellados [Statistical Yearbook of
Greece], annual from 1930 (Athens, 1931 +), suspended 1940–1953; text in Greek and French
1930–1939, Greek and English 1954 +; issuing agency and title vary.
Hungary
Kozponti Statisztikai Hivatal Magyar Statistikai Evkonyv, annual, 1871–90 (Budapest,
1870–90); idem, Magyar Statistikai Evkonyv Uj Folyam annual, 1893–1942 (Budapest,
1892–1941); idem, Magyar Statistikai Evkonyv, mostly annual, 1949–55 + (Budapest, 1957
+).
Iceland
Tolfraedihandbok, annual (Reykjavik, 1930 +).
India
India Office, Statistical Abstract Relating to British India, irregular, (London, 1840–
1918).
Department of Commercial Intelligence and Statistics, Statistical Abstract for British
India, annual, (Calcutta, 1920–47).
Central Statistical Organization, Statistical Abstract of India, annual, 1949 + (Delhi,
1950 +).
Indonesia
Dutch East Indies, Centraal Kantoor voor de Statistiek, 1922/23–39 (Batavia, 1924–40).
Indonesia Central Office of Statistics, Statistical Abstracts, irregular, 1955/56 (Djakarta,
1956+).
Italy
Istituto Centrale di Statistica, Annuario Statistico Italiano, 1878 + (Rome, 1878 +),
mostly annual.
Japan
Sorifu Tokeikyoku, Resumé statistique de l’Empire du Japon, 1884–1940 (Tokyo, 1887–
1940), mostly annual, published in Japanese and French.
Prime Minister’s Office, Bureau of Statistics, Japan Statistical Yearbook, 1949 +
(Tokyo, 1949 +), published in Japanese and English.
Prime Minister’s Office, Bureau of Statistics, Annual Report on the Retail Price Survey
(1964 +), published in Japanese and English.
Korea
National Bureau of Statistics, Annual Report of the Price Survey (Seoul, 1961 +),
published in Korean and English.
Mexico
Dirección General de Estadistica, Anuario estadistico de los Estados Unidos
Mexicanos, 1893 + (Mexico City, 1894 +), not issued 1908–20, 1931–37.
Netherlands
Central Bureau voor de Statistick, Statisches Jaarboekje (1851–80), mostly annual;
idem, Jaarcijfers voor Nederlanden Statistical Yearbook of the Netherlands, 1881 + (The
Hague, 1882 +), mostly annual; published in Dutch and French 1884–1939, Dutch and German
1940–42, Dutch and English 1943–68; English alone, 1969 +.
New Zealand
Census and Statistics Office, Statistics of the Dominion of New Zealand (1853–1920),
irregular; idem, New Zealand Official Yearbook, 1891 + (Wellington, 1892 +), annual.
Census and Statistics Department, Report on Prices, Wages, and Labour Statistics of
New Zealand for the Year. . . . (Wellington, 1946 +), mostly annual.
Nigeria
Federal Office of Statistics, Annual Abstract of Statistics, 1960 + (Lagos, 1960 +).
Norway
Statistisk Sentralbyra, Statistisk Arbok, 1880 + (Oslo, 1881 +), mostly annual.
Poland
Glowny Urzad Statystyczny, Rocznik Statystyczny, irregularly published since 1920/21
(Warsaw, 1922). From 1920 to 1938 the text was in Polish and French; from 1946 + issued
also in German, Russian, and in English as The Statistical Yearbook of Poland.
Portugal
Instituto Nacional de Estatística, Anuário estatístico de Portugal, 1875 + (Lisbon, 1875
+), annual; text in Portuguese and French.
Romania
Directiunea Statisticei Generale, Buletin Statistic Romaniei, 1892–1911.
Directia Centrala de Statistica, Anuarul Statistic al Romaniei, 1902 + (Bucharest, 1904–
41, 1957 +) annual; includes English translations.
Russia
Statistika Rossieskoie Imperie (1887–1904).
Annuaire de la Russie (1904–1911).
Narodnoe Khoziaistvo SSSR, Statistikii Sbornik, 1923–90 (Moscow, 1923–90), also
issued in an English edition; idem, Statisticheskii Ezhedgodnik, 1955 + (Moscow, 1956–90).
Narodnoe Khoziaistvo, Rossiiskoi Federatsii, Statisticheskii Ezhedgodnik, 1992 +
(Moscow, 1992 +).
Serbia
Matériaux pur la Statistique du Serbie (1888–1896).
Annuaire Statistique du Royaume de Serbie (1895–1908).
Spain
Instituto Nacional de Estadistica, Anuario Estadistico de España, 1858 + (Madrid,
1859–67, 1911–35, 1942 +), mostly annual.
Sweden
Statistiska Centralbyran, Statistisk Tidskrift: Sveriges Officielle Statistea (Stockholm,
1860–1913), title varies.
Statistika Centralbyran, Statistik arsbok för Sverige, 1914 + (Stockholm, 1914 +) annual;
text in Swedish, French, and English to 1951, Swedish and English thereafter.
Switzerland
Statistisches Jahrbuch der Schweiz: Annuaire Statistique de la Suisse, 1891 + (Bern,
1891–96, 1898 +); mostly annual; some volumes include thirty-year summaries of statistical
data; a statistical atlas of Switzerland was issued in place of the volume for 1897.
United Kingdom
Central Statistical Office, Annual Abstract of Statistics, annual from 1854; the oldest
national statistical yearbook in continuous publication. Most volumes include data for the
preceding fifteen years. The first volume (1854) includes statistical material for the period
1840–53.
Social Trends (London, HMSO) (1970 +).
United States
Bureau of the Census, Statistical Abstract of the United States, 1878 + (Washington,
1878 +), annual.
Bureau of Labor Statistics, Producer Prices and Price Indexes (Washington, 1902 +),
monthly and annual, with historical compilations from 1890; idem, Monthly Labor Review and
Handbook of Labor Statistics (Washington, 1904 +), consumer prices and price indexes,
monthly and annual, in various formats from 1904, with historical compilations from 1890.
Yugoslavia
Savezni Zavod za Statistiku i Evidenciju, Statisticki Godisnjak [Statistical Yearbook]
1929–39 (Belgrade, 1929–39), mostly annual, issued in Serbian and French; idem, Godisnjak
Jugoslavije [Yearbook of Yugoslavia], 1954 +; Statiosticki Godisnjak Jugoslavije (Belgrade,
1955 +), issued in Serbo-Croatian, Russian and English.
Money
On the history of money the literature is even larger than on prices, and of course strongly
monetarist in its interpretation. The leading bibliography is Philip Grierson, Bibliographie
numismatique (2d ed., Brussels, 1979). The standard overviews are Philip Grierson,
Numismatics (Oxford, 1975) and John Porteus, Coins in History (London, 1969). A useful
survey is Glyn Davies, A History of Money from Ancient Times to the Present Day (Cardiff,
1994).
On the history of precious metals, see Adon A. Gordus and Jeanne P. Gordus, “Potosí
Silver and Coinage of Early Modern Europe,” in Hermann Kellenbenz, ed., Precious metals in
the Age of Expansion: Papers of the Fourteenth International Congress of the Historical
Sciences (Stuttgart, 1981) 225–242; and Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie et al., “Sur les traces de
‘argent du Potosí,’” Annales E.S.C. (1990) 483–505.
For medieval numismatics, the best beginning is Peter Spufford, Money and Its Use in
Medieval Europe (Cambridge, 1986), and idem, “Coinage and Currency,” in Cambridge
Economic History of Europe, (2d ed., Cambridge, 1987), 2:1788–863, both with appended
tables on medieval money and excellent bibliographies. Peter Spufford, with the assistance of
Wendy Wilkinson and Sarah Tolley, has also compiled a very useful Handbook of Medieval
Exchange (London, 1986), with a full introduction on money and exchange, a listing of
exchange rates by European region, and an excellent bibliography.
For the Renaissance and the modern era, an outstanding work is Frederic C. Lane and
Reinhold C. Mueller, Money and Banking in Medieval and Renaissance Venice, vol. I, Coins
and Moneys of Account (Baltimore, 1985), a work broader than its title, with a full
bibliography. Other major studies of high quality include Peter Spufford, Monetary Problems
and Policies in the Burgundian Netherlands, 1433–1496 (Leiden, 1970); Frank C. Spooner,
The International Economy and Monetary Movements in France, 1493–1725 (Cambridge,
1972); John Day, ed., Études d’histoire monétaire XIIe-XIXe siècles (Lille, 1984); Carlo M.
Cipolla, Money, Prices, and Civilization in the Mediterranean World: Fifth to Seventeenth
Century (Princeton, 1956); idem, La moneta a Firenze nel cinquecento (Bologna, 1987); B.
H. Michell, “The Impact of Sudden Accessions of Treasure upon Prices and Real Wages,”
Canadian Journal of Economics and Social Science 12 (1946); J. L. Laughlin, Money, Credit,
and Prices (Chicago, 1951); John J. McCusker, Money and Exchange in Europe and America,
1600–1775: A Handbook (Chapel Hill, 1978), with bibliographical notes; and many works of
Milton Friedman and Anna J. Schwartz, cited below. A handbook on money and exchange in
Europe during the modern period is coming from Frank Spooner.
On particular currencies, there is R. Sédillot, Le franc: histoire d’une monnaie des
origines à nos jours (Paris, 1953); A. Blanchet and A. Dieudonné, Manuel de numismatique
française (4 vols., Paris, 1912–36); Albert Feaveryear, The Pound Sterling: A History of
English Money (2d ed. rev., Oxford, 1963); W. C. Mitchell, A History of the Greenbacks
(Chicago, 1903); Octavio Gil Farres, Historia de la moneda española (2d ed., Madrid, 1976);
Kirsten Bendixen, Denmark’s Money (Copenhagen, 1967); A. Lohr, Osterreichische
Geldgeschichte (Vienna, 1946); I. G. Spasskij, The Russian Monetary System (3d ed.,
Leningrad, 1962; Eng., Amsterdam, 1967).
On the problem of money of account, see Marc Bloch, “La monnaie de compte,” Annales
d’Histoire Économique et Sociale (1935); idem, “Le problème de la monnaie de compte,”
ibid. (1938); Luigi Einaudi, “The Theory of Imaginary Money from Charlemagne to the French
Revolution,” in F. C. Lane and J. C. Riemersma, eds., Enterprise and Secular Change
(Homewood, Ill., 1953) 229–61. Good discussions appear in Lane and Mueller and McCusker
above.
A major work on “bookkeeping barter,” of a more general importance than its title
implies, is W. T. Baxter, The House of Hancock: Business in Boston, 1724–1775 (Cambridge,
1945).
Population
Indispensable to this inquiry are general works on historical demography, which tend to
explain price movements as the result of changes in population growth. Leading works include
D. V. Glass and D. E. C. Eversley, Population in History: Essays in Historical Demography
(London, 1965; rpt. 1974); W. R. Lee, ed., European Demography and Economic Growth
(London, 1979); R. D. Lee, ed., Population Patterns in the Past (New York, 1977); R. J.
Mols, Introduction à la demographie historique des villes d’Europe du XIVe au XVIIIe siècle
(3 vols., Gembloux, 1954–56); and Michael W. Flinn, The European Demographic System,
1500–1820 (Baltimore, 1981) with an excellent bibliography of more than seven hundred
works in demographic history.
National studies of general interest include J. C. Russell, British Medieval Population
(Albuquerque, 1948); E. A. Wrigley and R. S. Schofield, The Population History of England,
1541–1871 (Cambridge, 1981), an indispensable work; Julius Beloch,
Bevölkerungsgeschichte Italiens (3 vols., Berlin, 1937–61); and Maris A. Vinovskis, ed.,
Studies in American Historical Demography (New York, 1979), with a bibliography (pp. 21–
25).
On methods and models of demographic analysis, the best introduction is still George W.
Barclay, Techniques of Population Analysis (New York, 1958), now unhappily out of print;
also Nathan Keyfitz and Wilhelm Flieger, Population: Facts and Methods of Demography
(San Francisco, 1971); and Alfred Sauvy, General Theory of Population (1966; London,
1969).
Economic Growth
The central problem in economic historiography during the 1960s and 1970s was to
describe and explain processes of economic growth. A large literature was created, which in
the United States showed little interest in prices except as they impinged upon the measurement
of national product. Nevertheless, this literature bears upon price history in many ways.
Among general works, a classic is Simon Kuznets, Modern Economic Growth: Rate,
Structure, and Spread (New Haven, 1966), idem, The Economic Growth of Nations
(Cambridge, 1971); also E. F. Denison, Why Growth Rates Differ (Washington, 1967).
Most of this literature centers on national economies. For Britain, the leading works
include Phyllis Deane and W. A. Cole, British Economic Growth (1688–1959) (Cambridge,
1964); R. C. Floud and D. N. McCloskey, eds., The Economic History of Britain since 1700
(Cambridge, 1981+). A revisionist work is N. F. R. Crafts, British Economic Growth during
the Industrial Revolution (Oxford, 1985).
On the United States, see John J. McCusker and Russell R. Menard, The Economy of
British America, 1607–1789 (Chapel Hill, 1985); Douglass C. North, Terry L. Anderson, and
Peter J. Hill, Growth and Welfare in the American Past: A New Economic History (3d ed.,
Englewood Cliffs, N.J., 1983); Lance E. Davis et al., American Economic Growth: An
Economist’s History of the United States (New York, 1972).
On Italy, the best survey is in Ruggiero Romano and Corrado Vivanti, eds., Storia d’Italia
(Torin, 1973+), a magisterial multivolume work that includes both period volumes and topical
histories on economic subjects.
On the low countries a national economic history that gives much attention to prices is J.
A. van Houtte, An Economic History of the Low Countries (New York, 1977).
Still a standard work on Sweden is Eli F. Hecksher, Sevriges ekonomiska historia fran
Gustava Vasa (2 vols. in 4, Stockholm, 1935–49).
For Switzerland, see Antony Babel, Histoire économique de Geneve des origines au
début du XVIe siècle (2 vols., Geneva, 1963).
Agriculture
On agriculture and price history see B. H. Slicher van Bath, The Agrarian History of
Western Europe: A.D. 500–1850 (London, 1963); E. Kerridge, The Agricultural Revolution
(Paris, 1967); J. D. Chambers and G. E. Mingay, The Agricultural Revolution, 1750–1880
(London, 1966); E. Boserup, The Conditions of Agricultural Growth (Chicago, 1965);
national and regional histories include Joan Thirsk et al., eds., The Agrarian History of
England and Wales (8 vols., Cambridge, 1967 +); J. C. Toutain, Le produit de l’agriculture
française de 1700 à 1958 (Paris, 1961); and Wilhelm Abel, Agricultural Fluctuations in
Europe (London, 1980), which is specially helpful for central Europe; the English edition
includes an additional bibliography on English agricultural history.
A general history of agriculture in the United States remains to be written; the leading
works are still Lewis C. Gray, History of Agriculture in the Southern United States to 1860
(2 vols., 1933; rpt. Washington, 1958), a work of remarkable scholarship; Percy W. Bidwell
and John I. Falconer, History of Agriculture in the Northern United States, 1620–1860 (1925;
rpt. New York, 1941); Paul Gates, The Farmer’s Age: Agriculture, 1815–1860 (New York,
1960); Fred A. Shannon, The Farmer’s Last Frontier: Agriculture, 1860–1897 (New York,
1963).
On harvest fluctuations, see W. G. Hoskins, “Harvest Fluctuation and English Economic
Life, 1480–1619,” Agricultural History Review 12 (1964) 28–46; idem, “Harvest Fluctuations
and English Economic Life, 1620–1759,” Agricultural History Review 16 (1968) 15–31; C.
Walford, “Famines of the World, Past and Present,” Journal of the Royal Statistical Society
42 (1879).
Culture
On culture and the long run, see John Langrish, “Cycles of Optimism in Design,” Design
Studies 3 (1982) 153–56; J. Zvi Namenwirth, “The Wheels of Time and the Interdependence of
Value Change in America,” Journal of Interdisciplinary History 3 (1973) 649–83; idem and J.
Zvi Namenwirth and Harold D. Lasswell, The Changing Language of American Values: A
Computer Study of Selected Party Platforms (Beverly Hills, 1970).
Catastrophe Studies
Of relevance to the study of the last stage of each price revolution is a growing literature
on crisis and catastrophe. A pioneering work is Pitirim Sorokin, Man and Society in
Calamity: The effects of War, revolution, Famine, pestilence upon Human Mind, Behavior,
Social Organization … (New York, 1946). An interesting French journal has been devoted to
this subject. It was founded as Materiaux pour l’Etude des Calamités in 1925, and became the
Revue pour l’Étude des Calamités in 1938. Cultural and social approaches to the study of
catastrophe are explored in Paul Hugger, “Elemente einer Ethnologie der Katastrophe in der
Schweiz,” Zeitschrift für Volkskunde 86 (1990) 25–36; and Wieland Jäger, Katastrophe und
Gesellschaft Grundlegung und Kritik von Modellen der Katastrophensoziologie. Other
works include Kai T. Erikson, A New Species of Trouble: Explorations in Disaster, Trauma,
and Community (New York, 1994); John I. Clarke, ed., Population and Disaster (Oxford,
1989).
Egyptian Prices
Leading works include Angelo Segré, Circolazione monetaria e Prèzzi nel mondo antico
ed in particolare Egitto (Rome, 1922); J. J. Janssen, Commodity Prices from the Ramessid
Period: An Economic Study of the Village of Necropolis Workmen at Thebes (Leiden, 1975);
Karl Butzer, Early Hydraulic Civilization in Egypt (Chicago, 1976); T. Reekmans, “The
Ptolemaic Copper Inflation 220–173 B.C.,” Studia Hellenistica 7 (1951) 61; idem, “Economic
and Social Repercussions of the Ptolemaic Copper Inflation,” Chronique d’Egypte 24 (1949)
324; and for Roman Egypt, J. A. Straus, “Le prix des esclaves dans les papyrus d’époque
romaine trouvés dans, l’Egypte,” Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 11 (1973) 289–
95; A. K. Bowman, “The Economy of Egypt in the Earlier Fourth Century,” in C. E. King, ed.,
Imperial Revenue, Expenditure, and Monetary Policy in the Fourth Century A.D. (Oxford,
1980) 23–40; Roger S. Bagnall, Currency and Inflation in Fourth-Century Egypt (Chico,
Calif., 1985).
Rome
On Roman prices there is a large literature. Some material on prices appears in Michael
Rostovtzeff, The Social and Economic History of the Roman Empire (2 vols., Oxford, 1926;
rpt. 1957); much more is in Tenney Frank, ed., An Economic Survey of Ancient Rome
(Baltimore, 1933–40).
An important survey is A. H. M. Jones, “Inflation under the Roman Empire,” Economic
History Review 2d ser. 5 (1953) 293–318; a second edition, revised and corrected, appears in
P. A. Brunt, ed., The Roman Economy: Studies in Ancient Economic and Administrative
History (Oxford, 1974), 187–229.
Much data is collected in Richard Duncan-Jones, The Economy of the Roman Empire:
Quantitative Studies (Cambridge, 1974); idem, “The Price of Wheat in Lower Egypt,” in
Structure and Scale in the Roman Economy (Cambridge, 1990), 143–56; idem, “The Price of
Wheat in Roman Egypt under the Principate,” Chiron 8 (1978) 541–60; J. Kolendo, “L’arrêt de
l’afflux des monnaies romaines dans le ‘Barbaricum’ sous Septime-Sévère,” Les Dévaluations
a Rome 2 (Rome) 169–72.
Also useful are G. Rickman, The Corn Supply of Ancient Rome (Oxford, 1980); S. Bolin,
State and Currency in the Roman Empire up to A.D. 300 (Stockholm, 1958); F. M.
Heichelheim, “New Light on Currency and Inflation in Hellenistic-Roman Times, from
Inscriptions and Papyri,” Economic History 10 (1935) 1–11; Sture Bolin, State and Currency
in the Roman Empire to 300 A.D. (Stockholm, 1958); P. Louis, Ancient Rome at Work (London,
1927); H. Mattingly, Roman Coins from the Earliest Times to the Fall of the Western Empire
(New York, 1928).
Period-specific studies include Claude Nicolet, “Les variations des prix et la ‘théorie
quantitative de la monnaie à Rome, de Cicéron à Pline l’Ancien,” Annales E.S.C. 26 (1971)
1203–27; Z. Yaveta, “Fluctuations monétaires et condition de la plèbe à la fin de la
République,” Recherches sur les societes anciennes (Caen, 1971); Tenney Frank, “The
Financial Crisis of 33 A.D.” American Journal of Philology 56 (1935) 336–41; L. C. West,
“The Coinage of Diocletian and the Edict on Prices,” in P. R. Coleman-Norton, ed., Studies in
Roman Economic and Social History in Honor of Allen Chester Johnson (Princeton, 1951),
290–302; Marta Giacchero, ed., Edictum Diocletiani et collegarum de pretiis rerum
venalium … (Genoa, 1974); C. R. Whittaker, “Inflation and the Economy in the Fourth Century
A. D., in C. E. King, ed., Imperial Revenue, Expenditure, and Monetary Policy in the Fourth
Century A.D. (Oxford, 1980), 1–22; M. Fulford, “Coin Circulation and Mint Activity in the
Late Roman Empire: Some Economic Implications,” Archaeological Journal 135 (1978) 67–
114.
Palestine
Prices in Palestine are examined in Daniel Sperber, Roman Palestine, 200–400: Money
and Prices (Ramat-gan, 1974); A. Kindler, ed., The Patterns of Monetary Development in
Phoencia and Palestine in Antiquity (Jerusalem, 1963).
Byzantium
For the eastern empire and Byzantine history, see G. Ostrogorsky, “Löhne und Preise in
Byzanz,” Byzantische Zeitschrift 23 (1932), Italian trans. in Romano, I Prèzzi in Europa, 47–
85; H. Antoniadis-Bibicou, “Démographie, salaires et prix à Byzanze au XIe siècle,” Annales
E.S.C. 27 (1972) 215–46; D. A. Zakythinos, Crise monétaire et crise économique à Byzance
du XIIIe au XVe siècle (Athens, 1948); Michael F. Hendy, Studies in the Byzantine Monetary
Economy, c. 300–1450 (Cambridge, 1985); Angeliki LaiouThomadakis, Peasant Society in
the Late Byzantine Empire: A Social and Demographic Study (Princeton, 1977); A. L.
Harvey, “The Growth of the Byzantine Rural Economy (thesis, Birmingham, 1983); A. M.
Andréadés, “De la monnaie et de la puissance d’achat des métaux précieux dans l’empire
byzantin,” Byzantion 1 (1924) 75–115; C. Morrison, “La dévaluation de la monnaie byzantine
au XIe siècle: Essai d’interprétation,” Travaux et Mémoires 6 (1976) 3–48; Franz Dölger,
Beitrage zur Geschichte der byzantinischen Finanzverwaltung (Darmstadt, 1927).
Islam
For Islamic prices and wages the leading authority is Eliyahu Ashtor, Historie des prix et
des salaires dans l’Orient médiéval (Paris, 1969); tr. as A Social and Economic History of
the Near East in the Middle Ages (London, 1976); idem, Les métaux precieux et la balance
des payements du Proche-Orient à la fin de la basse époque (Paris, 1971); idem, The
Medieval Near East: Social and Economic History (London, 1978), a collection of essays on
prices, wage and interest movements; idem, “La recherche des prix dans l’Orient médiéale,”
Studia Islamica 21 (1964); idem, “Prix et salaires dans l’Espagne musulmane aux Xe et XIe
siècles,” Annales E.S.C. 20 (1965) 664–79; “Matériaux pur l’histoire des prix dans l’Egypte
médiévale,” Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient 6 (1963) 158–89;
idem, “Le coût de la vie dans l’Egypte médiévale,” Journal of the Economic and Social
History of the Orient 3 (1960) 56–77; idem, “Le coût de la vie dans la Syrie médiévale,”
Arabica 8 (1961) 59–73; idem, “Le coût de la vie en Palestine au Moyen Age,” in L. A. Mayer
Memorial Volume, 154–64; also published in Eretz-Israel 7 (1963); also idem, “Prix et
salaires à l’époque mamlouke,” Revue des Études Islamiques (1949) 49–94; idem, “Essai sur
les prix et les salaires dans l’empire califien,” Rivista degli Studi Orientale 36 (1961) 19–69;
idem, “L’évolution des prix dans le Proche-orient à la basse-époque, Journal of Economic
and Social History of the Orient 4 (1961) 15–46.
Especially strong on the demographic and ecological history of Islam is Xavier de
Planhol’s excellent Les fondements géographiques de l’histoire de l’Islam (Paris, 1968). For
a fiscal perspective see H. Rabie, The Financial System of Egypt, A.H. 564–741/A.D. 1169–
1341 (London, 1972); William Popper, Egypt and Syria under the Circassian Sultans (1382–
1468 A.D.) (Berkeley, 1955).
Ancient Africa
Useful works include M. Malowist, “The Social and Economic Stability of the Western
Sudan in the Middle Ages,” Past & Present 33 (1966) 3–15; E. W. Bovill, The Golden Trade
of the Moors (Oxford, 1958); and J. Devisse, “Routes de Commerce et échanges en Afrique
occidentale en relation avec la Méditerranée,” Revue d’histoire économique et sociale 1
(1972) 42–73, 357–97.
Polynesia
A. T. Wilson, “Isotope Evidence for Past Climatic and Environmental Change,” Journal
of Interdisciplinary History 10 (1980) 241–50, is an important work on climate and historical
change in Oceania.
East Asia
General works on East Asian civilizations before the modern era include Ping-ti Ho,
Studies on the Population of China, 1368–1953 (1959, 2d ed., Cambridge, 1967); Mark
Elvin, The Pattern of the Chinese Past; A Social and Economic Interpretation (London,
1973); P. Liu and K. Huang, “Population Change and Economic Development in Mainland
China since 1400,” in C. Hou and T. Yu, eds., Modern Chinese Economic History (Taipei,
1977), 61–81. An older but still useful survey is C. P. Fitzgerald, China, A Short Cultural
History (New York, 1935, 1972).
Period-specific studies are R. Hartwell, “A Cycle of Economic Change in Imperial
China: Coal and Iron in North-east China, 750–1350,” Journal of the Economic and Social
History of the Orient 10 (1967)
On the Sung and Ming periods, there are M. Cartier, “Notes sur l’histoire des prix en
Chine du XIVe au XVIIe siècle,” Annales E. S. C. 24 (1969) 1876–89; idem, “Les importations
de métaux monetaires en Chine: Essai sur la conjoncture chinoise,” ibid., 36 (1981) 454–66;
Ch’uan Han-sheng, “Sung-Ming chien pai-yin kou-mai-li ti pien-tung chi ch’i yuan-yin,”
[“Fluctuations in the purchasing power of silver at their cause from the Sung to the Ming
dynasties,”] Hsin-ya-hseuh-pao [New Asian Journal] 8 (1967) 157–86, with a summary in
English; M. Cartier, “Notes sur l’histoire des prix en Chine du XIVe au XVIIe siècle,” [1368–
1644] Annales E. S. C. 24 (1969) 1876–89; idem, “Les importations de métaux monetaires en
Chine: Essai sur la conjoncture Chinoise,” ibid., 36 (1981) 454–66; W. S. Atwell, “Notes on
Silver, Foreign Trade, and the Late Ming Economy,” Ch’ing shih wen-ti 3 (1977) 1–33; idem
“International Bullion Flows and the Chinese Economy, circa 1530–1650,” Past & Present 95
(1982) 68–90.
For the Ching period, see Yeh-chien Wang, “The Secular Trend of Prices during the
Ch’ing Period,“ Journal of the Institute of Chinese Studies of the Chinese University of
Hong Kong, 5 (1972) 364; Han-sheng Ch’uan and Richard A. Kraus, Mid-Ch’ing Rice
Markets and Trade: An Essay in Price History (Cambridge, 1975).
Wayland, Massachusetts D. H. F
April 1996
CREDITS
Permission is gratefully acknowledged for the following: Agricultural History Review, for
data in C. J. Harrison, “Grain Price Analysis and Harvest Qualities, 1465–1634,” 19
(1971), 139–51.
Annales E.S.C., for data in Elisabeth Carpentier, “Autour de la peste noir,” 17 (1962) 1062–
92.
Cambridge University Press, for data in Michel Morineau, Incroyables gazettes et fabuleux
métaux (1985); Margaret Spufford, Contrasting Communities (1974); Joan Thirsk, ed., The
Agrarian History of England and Wales Vol. II, 1042–1350, H. E. Hallam, ed. (1988); and
Vol. V, 1640–1750 (1985).
Economica, for data in Henry Phelps-Brown and Sheila V. Hopkins, “Seven Centuries of the
Prices of Consumables compared with Builders’ Wage Rates,” 23 (1956) 311–314; and
idem, “Wage Rates, Prices and Population Pressure,” 26 (1959) 26, 35–37.
Harvard University press, for data in Earl Hamilton, American Treasure and the Price
Revolution in Spain (1935); Barbara Hanawalt, Crime and Conflict in English
Communities (1979); Peter Laslett, Karla Osterveen and Richard M. Smith, ed., Bastardy
and Its Comparative History (1980); Frank Spooner, The International Economy and
Monetary Movements in France, 1493–1725 (1972); E. A. Wrigley and R. S. Schofield,
The Population History of England, 1541–1871 (1981).
Journal of the Social and Economic History of the Orient, for data in Howard Farber, “A
Price and Wage Study in Northern Babylonia . . .” 21 (1978) 34.
Journal of Studies on Alcohol, Inc., for data in M. M. Hyman, M. A. Zimmermann, C. Guroli
and A. Helrich, eds., Drinkers, Drinking, and Alcohol-Related Mortality and
Hospitalizations: A Statistical Compendium (New Brunswick, 1980).
Münsterische Beitràge zur antiken Handelsgeschichte, for data in H.-J. Drexhage, “Eselpreis
im römischen Ägypten: ein Beitrag zum Binnenhandel” 5 (1986) 34–48.
Northwestern University Press, for data in David Herlihy, “Santa Maria Impruneta,” in Nicolai
Rubenstein, ed., Florentine Studies (Evanston, 1968).
Princeton University Press, for data in J. S. Cockburn, ed., Crime in England, 1550–1800
(1977)
Rand McNally, for base maps in R. R. Palmer, Atlas of World History (Chicago, 1957).
Sage Publications, Inc., for data in Ted Robert Gurr, ed., Rogues, Rebels & Reformers: A
Political History of Urban Crime and Conflict (Beverly Hills and London, 1976).
St. Martins Press, for data in Wilhelm Abel, Agricultural Fluctuations in Europe (New York,
1980).
Scandinavian University Press, for data in C. A. Christensen, “Aendringen i landsbyen
økenomiske og sociale struktur i det 14 og 15-århundred,” Historisk Tidsskrift 12 (1964)
364.
INDEX
PAGE NUMBERS IN ITALICS REFER TO FIGURES AND NOTES.
Abel, Wilhelm, 3, 5, 132, 242, 244, 286, 341n1, 342n1, 343–44n1, 364, 367, 371–72, 409,
410, 413, 474
Abramowitz, Moses, 276
account, money of, 282–84
Adelman, Irma, 274
administered prices, 250, 280, 428, 450
Afghanistan, 231
Africa: bibliography, 268, 439, 454, 500
and causes of price revolutions, 245
disease in, 41, 229
and eighteenth century price revolution, 129
famine in, 229
in fourteenth century, 41, 265–68, 454
gold in, 48
medieval price revolution in, 41, 48
politics in, 149
population in, 229
and Renaissance equilibrium, 48
and twentieth century price revolution, 188, 229, 243, 500
and Victorian equilibrium, 168
African Americans, 301
agrarian models. See Labrousse, C. E.
Labrousse cycles
agriculture, 8, 47, 168, 328n4, 424, 447, 455, 475. See also Food prices; Grain prices;
Labrousse cycles
alcohol consumption, 173, 176, 225, 227, 228, 239, 248
Aldcroft, Derek H., 364
Alfonso II (king of Castille), 13
Algeria, 231
Alsace, 78
American colonies, 103, 127, 134, 135, 139, 141, 294, 348n13. See also American
Revolution; United States
American Revolution, 121, 129, 140, 141, 150, 152, 487–88
American treasure, 81–83, 82, 108–9, 128, 129, 332n14, 335n24, 336n36, 336–37n37,
337n38
Americas, 271–72, 474, 480. See also Latin America; North America; specific nation
Amsterdam, The Netherlands, 96, 120, 129
ancient world, 259–64, 435–39
Andalusia, 76
Anderson, T. W., 277
Angers, France, 95
Annales school, 315, 367, 369–70, 406, 477
Antwerp, Belgium, 80, 87, 88, 336n29
Arab states, 202, 210, 231. See also Organization of Petroleum Exporting countries (OPEC)
Aragon, 48
Argentina, 168, 188, 232, 372
arms and armor, 22, 322n19
art and architecture, 59, 62, 100, 110, 153, 238
Asahara, Shoko, 232
Asia: bibliography, 440, 493, 499, 500
causes of death in, 265
and causes of price revolutions, 245
disease in, 191
and eighteenth century price revolution, 121
in fourteenth century, 265
population in, 233
and Renaissance equilibrium, 48
trade with, 48
and twentieth century price revolution, 191, 499–500
and Victorium equilibrium, 493. See also specific nation
Asturia, 263
Atkinson’s (A. B.) index, 291
Atwell, W. S., 268
Augsburg, Germany, 70
Australia, 168, 308, 373, 398, 493
Austria: bibliography, 373, 398
and eighteenth century price revolution, 120, 132, 149
and Enlightenment equilibrium, 110
grain prices in, 6, 120
hyperinflation in, 193
money in, 193
population in, 96
and sixteenth century price revolution, 96, 335n28
and twentieth century price revolution, 193, 194, 203
and Victorian equilibrium, 171
wages in, 132, 335n28
and wars, 121, 149, 157, 171
Austria-Hungary, 181
Austro-Prussian War, 157
d’Avenel, Georges, 28, 104, 344n4, 366, 378
Avignon, 39, 40–41
Azpilcueta, Martin de, 84
Aztecs, 266
Caboche, Simon, 52
Caffa, 41
Calcutta, India, 110, 308
Calomiris, Charles W., 426
Calvinism, 101
Cambridge Group for the History of Population and Social Structure, 303
Cameron, Rondo, 413–14
Canada, 121, 150, 152, 153, 168, 184, 375, 399
candy bars, 202–3
capacity utilization, 193, 204–5, 206, 213, 215, 233
capital. See Returns to capital
capitalism, 243, 247, 295, 298, 303, 304, 310, 323n20
Caribbean Islands, 270
caristia, 23
Carter (Jimmy) administration, 210, 212, 236
Cartier, M., 267, 268
Casimir IV (king of Poland), 56
Castile, 56, 263
Catalonia, 40, 97
catastrophes, 241, 435
Catherine the Great, 112
Catholicism, 77, 86, 87, 101
Chabert, M. A., 409
Chaloner, W. H., 364
Chamberlain, Neville, 195
Charles I (king of England), 269, 270
Charles V (king of Spain), 91
Charles VI (king of France), 52
Charles VII (king of France), 55
Charleston, South Carolina, 272
Chartres, France, 10, 11–13, 16–17, 318–19n2, 448
Chaunu, Pierre, 95, 276, 419
Chesapeake school, 370
Chicago, Illinois, 172, 176, 308
Chile, 104, 232, 271, 375–76, 399
China: bibliography, 267–68, 376–77, 399, 453, 473–74, 499
and eighteenth century price revolution, 120
in fourteenth century, 265, 267–68, 453
grain prices in, 120
Ming dynasty in, 269
population of, 265, 266, 269
in seventeenth century, 269, 473–74
and twentieth century price revolution, 195, 499
Chmielnicki’s Rebellion, 101
Christianity, 45, 86, 138
Christopher II (king of Denmark), 40
Ch’uan Han-sheng, 268
Cipolla, Carlo, 25, 332n14, 411–12
classical economics, 168
Cleary, M. N., 274
climate: bibliography, 268, 422–23, 448, 450, 465, 475, 495
and causes of price revolutions, 245–46
and eighteenth century price revolution, 142, 148, 155, 156, 245–46
in eleventh century, 267
and Enlightenment equilibrium, 107
in fourteenth century, 35, 245, 266–67, 448, 450
and medieval price revolution, 31, 35, 245–46, 267, 324–25n31
and Renaissance equilibrium, 330n17
and seventeenth century crisis, 93, 245
and sixteenth century price revolution, 93, 465
in tenth century, 267
in twelfth century, 267
and twentieth century price revolution, 245, 246
and Victorian equilibrium, 157, 169, 171, 495
“cliometric school, ” 315
Coatsworth, John, 121, 271
coefficient of variation, 291
coefficients of correlation, 338n43
Colbert, Jean Baptiste, 116
Cole, Arthur H., 272, 367, 368
Colebrooke, George, 140, 214
collective action, 257–58
Cologne, Germany, 120
Colombia, 202
colonies, 110, 121, 149, 271. See also American colonies
commerce, 168. See also Trade
commodity prices: in ancient world, 259
and eighteenth century price revolution, 120, 121, 123, 132, 134–35
and Enlightenment equilibrium, 105
and medieval price revolution, 25
and population, 132
and Renaissance equilibrium, 49
and similarities among price revolutions, 238
and sixteenth century price revolution, 69, 82
and twentieth century price revolution, 181, 193, 198, 209, 215, 216
and Victorian equilibrium, 158
communism, 212, 229–30, 499
Comoro Islands, 149
“competitive inflation, ” 202–3
Congo (Democratic Republic), 377
Constantinople, 30, 155
consumer prices: and eighteenth century price revolution, 125, 152, 228
and equilibrium, 228
and seventeenth century crisis, 92
and sixteenth century price revolution, 72, 90, 92, 228
and twentieth century price revolution, 182, 183, 187, 198, 199, 200, 204, 205, 209, 210,
211, 215–16, 217, 220, 226, 228, 228
and Victorian equilibrium, 158, 170
Copernicus, Nicolaus, 84
Corfu, 58
Corsica, 41, 141
cost-push inflation, 126, 278, 280, 428
Cracow, Poland, 75
Crandall, Ruth, 368
Crash of 1987, 215
Crete, 58
crime: and capitalism, 310
causes of, 309–11
control of, 309–11
and eighteenth century price revolution, 144, 145, 146–47, 305, 306, 306, 308
empirical evidence about, 311
and “enforcement waves, ” 310
and Enlightenment equilibrium, 110, 111
and equilibrium, 225, 239, 309
and food prices, 94
in fourteenth century, 35–36, 37, 38, 306, 306
and inequalities, 309
and medieval price revolution, 35–36, 36, 37, 305, 306, 306
and price revolutions, 248, 250, 305–11, 306, 309
secular trends in, 305–6, 306
and seventeenth century crisis, 94, 306
and similarities among price revolutions, 238, 239
and sixteenth century price revolution, 94, 94, 305, 306
and twentieth century price revolution, 225, 226, 230, 305, 306, 306, 308, 310
and Victorian equilibrium, 172, 176, 308
and wages, 309
and wars, 145
waves of, 306–8, 311
Crimea, 41, 57, 162, 171
Crusades, 13
Cuba, 232, 377
cultural issues: in ancient world, 259
bibliography, 426, 447–48, 459, 468, 469–70, 478, 485, 496, 501
and causes of price revolutions, 243, 246–51
and consequences of price revolutions, 250–51
and differences among price revolutions, 240, 241
and eighteenth century price revolution, 118, 154–55, 485
and Enlightenment equilibrium, 103, 113, 239, 478
and equilibrium, 239, 249
and fourteenth century crisis, 45
and inequalities, 294
and Marxism, 243
and medieval price revolution, 45, 447–48
and Renaissance equilibrium, 239, 459
and seventeenth century crisis, 100–101, 469–70
and similarities among price revolutions, 237, 238, 239
and sixteenth century price revolution, 75–76, 468
and twentieth century price revolution, 501
and Victorian equilibrium, 174–75, 239, 496. See also art and architecture; Family
disintegration; literature; music; Social issues
cycles, 9, 158, 273–77, 318n7, 415–19 See also specific cycle
Cyprus, 58
Czechoslovakia, 377, 400
Udine, 276
Uganda, 229
Ukraine, 100, 101, 155
underemployment, 289
unemployment, 289
unemployment. See also Wages
United Kingdom. See Britain; England
United States: agriculture in, 424
alcohol consumption in, 173, 225, 227, 228
capacity utilization in, 193, 204–5, 206, 213, 233
and causes of price revolutions, 245
climate in, 142, 155
commodity prices in, 121, 181, 193, 198
consumer prices in, 170, 182, 183, 187, 198, 199, 200, 205, 209, 210, 216, 220, 226, 228,
228
crime in, 172, 225, 226, 308, 310
data for, 255, 361n19
debt of, 223
deflation in, 192
deregulation in, 210, 224
disease in, 191
and eighteenth century price revolution, 121, 124, 136, 138, 142, 149, 152, 153, 155, 156,
227, 272
and elections of 1896, 181
energy prices in, 124, 153, 208–9, 209, 210, 213, 218, 352n18
and Enlightenment equilibrium, 110
family disintegration in, 136, 228, 228, 301, 302
food prices in, 153, 204, 213, 218
frontier in, 188
gold in, 186, 194
grain prices in, 152, 158–59, 182
Great Depression in, 193–95
inequalities in, 138, 165, 190, 194, 210, 219, 222–23, 257, 294–96, 298, 299, 300, 420
inflation in, 182, 198–99, 200–201, 204, 206, 207, 209–10, 226, 280, 281
interest rates in, 163, 205, 212, 216, 217, 220, 221, 222
manufactured goods in, 157, 218
money in, 152, 157, 169, 170, 181, 182, 184–85, 186, 194, 205, 212, 224–25, 238, 282
politics in, 149, 162, 240
population in, 166
and prescriptions for thinking about price revolutions, 257
price controls/rationing in, 196, 197, 197, 198, 199, 199, 206–8, 357–58n9
price floors in, 201–2
primary sources about, 394–96, 397, 405
producer prices in, 182, 209
productivity in, 194–95, 196, 218
real estate values in, 219
real output in, 166, 168
returns to capital in, 163, 219, 221
returns to labor in, 189, 219
returns to land in, 164, 219, 220
revolutionary crisis in, 240, 486
romanticism in, 155
savings and loan associations in, 223–24
secondary sources about, 272, 420, 423, 424, 486, 492, 496, 498–99
silver in, 181, 214
and sixteenth century price revolution, 6, 81
slave economy in, 161–62, 496
stock markets in, 184, 214–15
taxes in, 194, 204, 205, 212, 223, 224, 359n28
and trade, 212, 224
and twentieth century price revolution, 181, 182, 182, 183, 184–85, 186, 188, 189, 189,
190, 191, 192, 193–97, 196, 197, 198–210, 206, 207, 209, 212–19, 218, 219, 220, 220, 221,
222–25, 222, 226, 227, 228, 228, 233, 238, 357–58n9, 359n22, 359n23, 359n28, 498–99
and Victorian equilibrium, 157–58, 159, 162, 163, 164, 165, 166, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172,
173, 492
wages in, 160, 181, 189, 192, 194–95, 199, 201, 206–8, 218–19, 218, 219, 357–58n9,
359n22, 359n23
and wars, 121, 153, 155, 157, 171, 189, 196–97, 198–200, 199, 204
and wave patterns, 6
welfare in, 156, 204, 218
wholesale prices in, 158, 159, 170, 181, 182, 189, 197, 199, 199, 218. See also New
England; specific city or state
University of Bologna, 13
University of Paris, 13
University of Salerno, 13
unwed mothers, 136, 137, 173, 176, 228, 248, 250, 301–4, 303
Utrecht, The Netherlands, 35