Is mid-seventeenth century England still ‘turned upside down’?: The legacy of Christopher Hill

Article by James Mawdesley. Edited by Amy Calladine. Additional Research by Emily Spencer.

Next year sees the fortieth anniversary of the publication of arguably Christopher Hill’s most famous work, The World Turned Upside Down. One of the most prodigious historians of his generation, the Oxford-educated Hill was already a lecturer at University College, Cardiff, when barely twenty-two years of age, and when The World Turned Upside Down was first published in 1972, he had risen to be Master of Balliol College, Oxford. Yet, despite the establishment credentials of the latter post, Hill was consciously a radical historian, both in terms of his Marxist views, but also in being a historian of radicals.

Reading The World Turned Upside Down when I was eighteen is one of the reasons why I am now training to be a specialist in seventeenth century history. Quite simply, The World Turned Upside Down is full of exciting people. It is the ultimate university party, but taking place in the seventeenth century, with less alcohol (apart from possibly the Ranters), and more sex (indeed, there is even a chapter dedicated to this!). These people, Hill proudly tells us, wanted an end to state-sponsored religion, called for religious, political, and personal freedom, and even an end to capitalism. To Hill, it is more than slightly regretful that this revolution never succeeded: it is the English Revolution which could have happened, but which did not.

Yet, when I reflect on what is arguably Hill’s magnum opus, I am struck by a comment which a guest lecturer made to me when I was an undergraduate. He said that he had once seen a fellow academic tell a conference that they would not recommend The World Turned Upside Down to their students. It is fair to say that even when I first read that book, I did not fully buy into every example which Hill cited, or every argument which he made, but this complete dismissal of a history book intrigued me. Therefore, now seems a good time to reflect on this work, after I have studied the seventeenth century at university and (I hope!) know a lot more about it than I did when I was eighteen.

As a student working on the seventeenth century, whether I am working on the Royalists or the Parliamentarians during the English Civil Wars (or neutrals, or clubmen, or indifferent, or various other shades of allegiance), there is a wealth of secondary literature which I can turn to. Some forty years ago, however, when Hill was writing, the literature was skewed in favour of the Parliamentarian side, consisting broadly of those who opposed Charles I’s innovations in the Church of England and in wider government during the 1630s. These people often, conveniently enough, seemed to end up as members of radical groups such as the Levellers or the Quakers. In contrast, the Royalists, apparently consisting of a declining aristocracy and defending an inadequate religious reformation and seemingly unjustifiable abuses of royal power, were very conservative, and very boring. Now, the Royalists are seen as a living force, who were generally financially stable, and were defending a Church which was popular with many people and which represented (to them at least) a vibrant religious culture. Some historians have even argued that the seemingly controversial policies of Charles I’s personal rule during the 1630s were not as innovatory as has sometimes been claimed. The Royalists now seemed to be strangely exciting, like they would be invited to the party too. Indeed, allegiance during the Civil Wars is now best seen as being fluid. Parliamentarians could lurch towards proto-royalism, and the growth of radical religion was a very particular and peculiar development within (but also outside) Parliamentarianism which horrified many supporters of Parliament. To continue the partying analogy, the one-time absinthe drinkers could well be on tap water by the end of the evening.

If anything, what was once ‘the English Revolution’ now seems to be very conservative at times, and much less radical than when Hill wrote The World Turned Upside Down. Charles I may have been executed in 1649, but, as my Scottish Medieval tutor used to delight in telling us, the English did have a habit of killing their kings when unfit for office (the contrast being that Scottish kings were generally killed by individual madmen, and, of course, the Scots never assented to Charles’ death either). The gentry survived the Civil Wars, with even Royalists going on to thrive after the restoration of the monarchy in 1660, despite the heavy fines which Parliament had imposed on many of them for their misplaced allegiances. Even Oliver Cromwell, whose religious beliefs are often difficult to place exactly, was always conscious during his Protectorate (1653 to 1658) to defend and uphold a settled national church, despite the allowance of toleration to religious groups who did not disturb the peace. Radical religious groups during the 1650s, such as the Quakers, were very much minorities in terms of active support, and very few survived the Restoration period (the Quakers being the success story). The explosion of print during the 1640s was revolutionary, but print was mobilised by both Royalists and Parliamentarians alike. The one obvious publishing sensation of the 1650s does not even merit a mention in The World Turned Upside Down: it was a sympathetic, apparently autobiographical, account of Charles I’s life called Eikon Basilike, first published in 1649.

So, in this new context for studies of mid-seventeenth century England, what is the future for The World Turned Upside Down? It is very much a product of its time, but that is arguably true of every history book. I think that as a means of engaging students with the mid-seventeenth century, in whatever form ‘the English Revolution’ is to be perceived, there are few better introductions. Even if Hill’s radicals were very much atypical of the period, they nevertheless existed, and their voices deserve to be heard. Yet, the conservative voices, very much absent from The World Turned Upside Down, must be heard too. For them, radicalism was something to be feared, not embraced. In paying attention to conservatism, the power of the radical voices may be diluted, but I believe that in doing so, a more realistic picture of mid-seventeenth century England emerges. The gatecrashers have well and truly arrived at the party.

*****

The 1972 The World Turned Upside Down was a study of Hill’s radical and millenarian ideas written in an era of counter-cultural energy.

The World Turned Upside Down is one of the very few history books to be turned into a play (at the National Theatre).

← Back to Volume 2

← Back to Issue 7