Chapter XV: Appendix: Some Byzantine Authorities (14)

So much for the case of estates administered by slave stewards for the account of their masters. But this was not the only way of dealing with landed properties. We have already noted the system of letting farms to cultivating tenants, and commented on the fewness of the references to it in literature. This plan may have been very ancient in origin, but it was probably an exceptional arrangement even in the time of Cicero. The very slight notice of it by Varro indicates that it was not normal, indeed not even common. In Columella we find a remarkable change. In setting out the main principles[976] of estate management, and insisting on the prime importance of the owner’s attention (_cura domini_), he adds that this is necessary above all things in relation to the persons concerned (_in hominibus_). Now the _homines_ are _coloni_ or _servi_, and are unchained or chained. After this division and subdivision he goes on to discuss briefly but thoroughly the proper relations between landlord and tenant-farmer, the care needed in the selection of satisfactory tenants, and the considerations that must guide a landlord in deciding whether to let a piece of land to a tenant or to farm it for his own account. He advises him to be obliging and easy in his dealings with tenants, and more insistent in requiring their work or service (_opus_)[977] than their rent (_pensiones_): this plan is less irritating, and after all it pays better in the long run. For, barring risks of storms or brigands, good farming nearly always leaves a profit, so that the tenant has not the face to claim[978] a reduction of rent. A landlord should not be a stickler for trifles or mean in the matter of little perquisites, such as cutting firewood, worrying his tenant unprofitably. But, while waiving the full rigour of the law, he should not omit to claim his dues in order to keep alive his rights: wholesale remission is a mistake. It was well said by a great landowner that the greatest blessing for an estate is when the tenants are natives[979] of the place, a sort of hereditary occupiers, attached to it by the associations of their childhood’s home. Columella agrees that frequent changes of tenant are a bad business. But there is a worse; namely the town-bred[980] tenant, who prefers farming with a slave staff to turning farmer himself. It was a saying of Saserna, that out of a fellow of this sort you generally get not your rent but a lawsuit. His advice then was, take pains to get country-bred farmers[981] and keep them in permanent tenancy: that is, when you are not free to farm your own land, or when it does not suit your interest to farm it with a slave staff. This last condition, says Columella, only refers to the case of lands derelict[982] through malaria or barren soil.

There are however farms on which it is the landlord’s own interest to place tenants rather than work them by slaves for his own account. Such are distant holdings, too out-of-the-way for the proprietor to visit them easily. Slaves out of reach of constant inspection will play havoc with any farm, particularly one on which corn is grown. They let out the oxen for hire, neglect the proper feeding of live stock, shirk the thorough turning of the earth, and in sowing tending harvesting and threshing the crop they waste and cheat you to any extent. No wonder the farm gets a bad name thanks to your steward and staff. If you do not see your way to attend in person to an estate of this kind, you had better let it to a tenant. From these remarks it seems clear that the writer looks upon letting land to tenant farmers as no more than an unwelcome alternative, to be adopted only in the case of farms bad in quality or out of easy reach. Indeed he says frankly that, given fair average conditions, the owner can always get better returns by managing a farm himself than by letting it to a tenant: he may even do better by leaving the charge to a steward, unless of course that steward happens to be an utterly careless or thievish fellow. Taking this in connexion with his remarks about stewards elsewhere, the net result seems to be that a landlord must choose in any given case what he judges to be the less of two evils.

A few points here call for special consideration. In speaking of the work or service (_opus_) that a landlord may require of a tenant, as distinct from rent, what does Columella precisely mean? It has been held[983] that he refers to the landlord’s right of insisting that his land shall be well farmed. This presumably implies a clause in the lease under which such a right could be enforced. But there are difficulties. In the case of a distant farm, let to a tenant because it has ‘to do without the presence[984] of the landlord,’ the right would surely be inoperative in practice. In the case of a neighbouring farm, why has the landlord not kept it in hand, putting in a steward to manage it? This interpretation leaves us with no clear picture of a practical arrangement. But this objection is perhaps not fatal. The right to enforce proper cultivation is plainly guaranteed to landlords in Roman Law, as the jurists constantly assert in discussing tenancies. And _opus_ is a term employed[985] by them in this connexion. It is therefore the safer course to take it here in this sense, and to allow for a certain want of clearness in Columella’s phrase. At the same time it is tempting to accept another[986] view, namely this, that the writer has in mind service rendered in the form of a stipulated amount of auxiliary labour on the landlord’s ‘Home Farm’ at certain seasons. That a _corvée_ arrangement of this kind existed as a matter of course on some estates, we have direct evidence[987] in the second century, evidence that suggests an earlier origin for the custom. True, it implies that landlords were in practice able to impose the burden of such task-work on their free tenants, in short that they had the upper hand in the bargain between the parties. But this is not surprising: for we read[988] of a great landlord calling up his _coloni_ to serve on his private fleet in the great civil war, a hundred years before Columella. Still, it is perhaps rash to see in this passage a direct reference to the custom of making the supply of auxiliary labour at certain seasons a part of tenant’s obligations. Granting this, it is nevertheless reasonable to believe that the first beginnings of the custom may belong to a date at least as early as the treatise of Columella. For it is quite incredible that such a practice should spring up and become prevalent suddenly. It has all the marks of gradual growth.

Another point of interest is the criticism of the town-bred _colonus_. He prefers to work the farm with a slave staff, rather than undertake the job himself. I gather from this that he is a man with capital, also that he means to get a good return on his capital. He fears to make a loss on a rustic venture, being well aware of his own inexperience. So he will put in a steward with a staff of slaves. The position of the steward will in such a case be peculiarly strong. If he is slack and thievish and lets down the farm, he can stave off his master’s anger by finding fault with the soil or buildings, and involve the tenant and landlord in a quarrel over the rent. To devise pretexts would be easy for a rogue, and a quarrel might end in a lawsuit. That Saserna, writing probably about 100 BC, laid his finger on this possible source of trouble, is significant. It is evidence that there were tenant-farmers in his time, and bad ones among them: but not that they were then numerous, or that their general character was such as to make landlords let their estates in preference to managing them through their own stewards for their own account. And this agrees with Columella’s own opinion some 150 years later. If you are to let farms to tenants, local men who are familiar with local conditions are to be preferred, but he gives no hint that such tenants could readily be found. His words seem rather to imply that they were rare.

One point is hardly open to misunderstanding. In Columella’s system the typical tenant-farmer, the _colonus_ to be desired by a wise landlord, is a humble person, to whom small perquisites are things of some importance. He is not a restless or ambitious being, ever on the watch for a chance of putting his landlord in the wrong or a pretext for going to law. Such as we see him in the references of Seneca, and later in those of the younger Pliny and Martial, such he appears in Columella. For the landlord it is an important object to keep him—when he has got him—and to have his son ready as successor in the tenancy. From other sources we know[989] that the value of long undisturbed tenancies are generally recognized. But we have little or nothing to shew whether the tenant-farmers of this age usually worked with their own hands or not. That they employed slave labour is not only _a priori_ probable, but practically certain. We have evidence that at a somewhat later date it was customary[990] for the landlord to provide land farmstead (_villa_) and equipment (_instrumentum_), and we know that under this last head slaves could be and were concluded. It is evident that the arrangement belongs to the decisive development of the tenancy system as a regular alternative to that of farming by a steward for landlord’s own account. The desirable country-bred tenant would not be a man[991] of substantial capital, and things had to be made easy for him. It is not clear that a tenant bringing his own staff of slaves would have been welcomed as lessee: from the instance of the town-bred _colonus_ just referred to it seems likely that he would not.

While Columella prescribes letting to tenants as the best way of solving the difficulties in dealing with outlying farms, he does not say that this plan should not be adopted in the case of farms near the main estate or ‘Home Farm.’ I think this silence is intentional. It is hard to believe that there were no instances of landlords either wholly non-resident or who so seldom visited their estates that they could not possibly keep an eye on the doings of stewards. In such cases there would be strong inducement to adopt the plan by which they could simply draw rents and have no stewards to look after. That stewards needed to be carefully watched was as clear to Columella as to Cato or Varro. True, letting to tenants was a policy liable to bring troubles of its own. We shall see in the case of the younger Pliny what they were and how he met them. Meanwhile he may serve as an example of the system. It is also plain that a large continuous property could be divided[992] into smaller parcels for convenience of letting to tenants. Whether the later plan of keeping a considerable Home Farm in hand under a steward, and letting off the outer parcels of the same estate to tenants, was in vogue already and contemplated by Columella, is not easy to say. In connexion with this question it is to be noted that he hardly refers at all to free hired labour[993] as generally available. The migratory gangs of wage-earners, still known to Varro, do not appear, nor do the itinerant _medici_. When he speaks of hiring hands at any price, or of times when labour is cheap, he may mean hiring somebody’s slaves, and probably does. Slave labour is undoubtedly the basis of his farm-system, and its elaborate organization fills an important part of his book. Yet two marked consequences of the Roman Peace had to be taken into account. Fewer wars meant fewer slaves in the market, and a rise of prices: peace and law in Italy meant that big landowners could add field to field more securely than ever, while great numbers of citizens were settling in the Provinces, taking advantage of better openings[994] there. To keep some free labour within call as an occasional resource was an undeniable convenience for a large owner with a farm in hand. Small tenants[995] under obligation to render stipulated service at certain seasons would obviously supply the labour needed. And, if we picture to ourselves a Home Farm round the lord’s mansion, worked by steward and slave staff, with outlying ‘soccage’ tenants on holdings near, we are already in presence of a rudimentary Manor. As time went by, and the system got into regular working order, the landlord had an opportunity of strengthening his hold on the tenants. By not pressing them too severely for arrears of rent, and occasionally granting abatements, he could gradually increase their services. What he thus saved on his own labour-bill might well be more than a set-off against the loss of money-rents. More and more the tenants would become dependent on him. Nominally free, they were becoming tied to the soil on onerous terms, and the foundation was laid of the later relation of Lord and Serf.

Such I conceive to be the rustic situation the beginnings of which are probably to be placed as early as Columella’s time, though we do not find him referring to it. He says nothing of another point, which was of importance[996] later, namely the admission of slaves or freedmen as tenants of farms. It has all the appearance of a subsequent step, taken when the convenience of services rendered by resident tenants had been demonstrated by experience. It is no great stretch of imagination to suggest that, as the supply of slaves fell off, it was the policy of owners to turn their slave-property to the best possible account. When a steward or a gang-foreman was no longer in his prime, able (as Columella enjoins) to turn to and shew the common hands how work should be done, how could he best be utilized? A simple plan was to put him on a small farm with a few slave labourers. This would secure the presence of a tenant whose dependence was certain from the first, while a younger man could be promoted to the arduous duties of the big Home Farm. Be this as it may, it is certain that problems arising from shortage of slaves were presenting themselves in the middle of the first century AD. For slave-breeding, casual in Cato’s day and incidentally mentioned by Varro, is openly recognized by Columella, who allows for a larger female element in his farm staff and provides rewards for their realized fertility.

If the system of farm-tenancies was already becoming a part of land-management so important as the above remarks may seem to imply, why does the management of a landed estate for landlord’s account under a steward occupy almost the whole of Columella’s long treatise? I think there are several reasons. First, it is management of tillage-crops and gardens and live stock with which he is chiefly concerned, not tenures and labour-questions: and technical skill in agriculture is of interest to all connected with it, though the book is primarily addressed to landlords. Secondly, the desirable tenant was (and is) a man not much in need of being taught his business: as for an undesirable one, the sooner he is got rid of the better. Thirdly, the plan of steward-management was still the normal one: the only pity was that the indolence of owners led to appointment of bad stewards and left them too much power. Only sound knowledge can enable landlords to choose good stewards and check bad management. Seeing agriculture in a bad way, Columella writes to supply this knowledge, as Cato Varro and others had done before him. Accordingly he begins with the general organization of the normal large estate, and first discusses the choice and duties of the _vilicus_, on whose character and competence everything depends. To this subject he returns in a later part of the treatise, and the two passages[997] enforce the same doctrine with very slight variations in detail.

The steward[998] must not be a fancy-slave, a domestic from the master’s town house, but a well-tried hardy rustic, or at the very least one used to hard labour. He must not be too old, or he may break down under the strain; nor too young, or the elder slaves will not respect him. He must be a skilled farmer (this is most important)[999], or at least thoroughly painstaking, so as to pick up the business quickly: for the functions of teaching and giving orders cannot be separated. He need not be able to read and write, if his memory be very retentive. It is a remark of Celsus, that a steward of this sort brings his master cash more often than a book: for he cannot make up false accounts himself, and fears to trust an accomplice. But, good bad or indifferent, a steward must have a female partner[1000] allotted him, to be a restraining influence on him and in some respects a help. Being[1001] his master’s agent, he must be enjoined not to live on terms of intimacy with any of the staff, and still less with any outsider. Yet he may now and then invite a deserving worker to his table on a feast-day. He must not do sacrifice[1002] without orders, or meddle with divination. He must attend markets only on strict business, and not gad about, unless it be to pick up wrinkles[1003] for the farm, and then only if the place visited be close at hand. He must not allow new pathways to be made on the farm, or admit as guests any but his master’s intimate friends. He must be instructed to attend carefully[1004] to the stock of implements and tools, keeping everything in duplicate and in good repair, so that there need be no borrowing from neighbours: for the waste of working time thus caused is a more serious item than the cost of such articles. He is to see to the clothing[1005] of the staff (_familiam_) in practical garments that will stand wet and cold: this done, some work in the open is possible in almost any weather. He should be not only an expert in farm labour, but a man of the highest mental and moral character[1006] compatible with a slave-temperament. For his rule should be sympathetic but firm: he should not be too hard[1007] upon the worse hands, while he encourages the better ones, but aim at being feared for his strictness rather than loathed for harshness. The way to achieve this is to watch and prevent, not to overlook and then punish. Even the most inveterate rogues are most effectively controlled by insisting on performance[1008] of their tasks, ensuring them their due rights, and by the steward being always on the spot. Under these conditions the various foremen[1009] will take pains to carry out their several duties, while the common hands, tired out, will be more inclined to go to sleep than to get into mischief. Some good old usages tending to promote content and good feeling are unhappily gone beyond recall, for instance[1010] the rule that a steward must not employ a fellow-slave’s services on any business save that of his master. But he must not suffer them to stray off the estate unless he sends them on errands; and this only if absolutely necessary. He must not do any trading[1011] on his own account, or employ his master’s cash in purchase of beasts etc. For this distracts a steward’s attention, and prevents the correct balancing of his accounts at the audit, when he can only produce goods instead of money. In general, the first[1012] requisite is that he should be free from conceit and eager to learn. For in farming mistakes can never be redeemed: time lost is never regained: each thing must be done right, once for all.

The above is almost a verbal rendering of Columella’s words. At this point we may fairly pause to ask whether he seriously thought that an ordinary landlord had much chance of securing such a paragon of virtue as this pattern steward. That all these high bodily mental and moral qualities combined in one individual could be bought in one lot at an auction[1013] must surely have been a chance so rare as to be hardly worth considering as a means of agricultural development. I take it that the importance of extreme care in selecting the right man, and in keeping him to his duties, is insisted on as a protest against the culpable carelessness of contemporary landlords, of which he has spoken severely above. If, as I believe, in the great majority of cases a new steward required much instruction as to the details of his duties and as to the spirit in which he was both to rule the farm-staff and to serve his master, surely the part to be played by the master himself[1014] was of fundamental importance: indeed little less so than in the scheme of old Cato. To Columella I am convinced that his recommendations stood for an ideal seldom, if ever, likely to be realized. To say this is not to blame the good man, but rather to hint that his precepts in general must not be taken as evidence of a state of things then normally to be found existing on farms. To express aspirations confesses the shortcomings of achievement.

To return to our author’s precepts. He goes on to tell us of his own way of treating[1015] his farm-hands, remarking that he has not regretted his kindness. He talks to a rustic slave (provided he is a decent worker) more often, and more as man to man (_familiarius_) than he does to a town slave. It relieves the round of their toil. He even exchanges pleasantries with them. He discusses new work-projects with the skilled hands and so tests their abilities: this flatters them, and they are more ready to work on a job on which they have been consulted. There are other points of management on which all prudent masters are agreed, for instance the inspection[1016] of the slaves in the lock-up. This is to ascertain whether they are carefully chained, and the chamber thoroughly secured, and whether the steward has chained or released any of them without his master’s knowledge. For he must not be permitted to release the chained on his own responsibility. The _paterfamilias_ should be all the more particular in his inquiries as to slaves of this class, to see that they are dealt with fairly in matters of clothing and rations, inasmuch as they are under the control[1017] of several superiors, stewards foremen and warders. This position exposes them to unfair treatment, and they are apt to be more dangerous through resenting harshness and stinginess. So a careful master should question them as to whether they are getting[1018] their due allowance. He should taste their food and examine their clothes etc. He should hear and redress grievances, punish the mutinous, and reward the deserving. Columella then relates[1019] his own policy in dealing with female slaves. When one of them had reared three or more children she was rewarded: for 3 she was granted a holiday, for 4 she was manumitted. This is only fair, and it is a substantial increment[1020] to your property. In general, a landlord is enjoined to observe religious duties, and to inspect the whole estate immediately on his arrival from Town, checking all items carefully. This done regularly year after year, he will enjoy order and obedience on his estate in his old age.

Next comes a general statement of the proper classification of the slave staff according to varieties[1021] of function. For departmental foremen you should choose steady honest fellows, watchfulness and skill being needed rather than brute strength. The hind or plowman must be a big man with a big voice, that the oxen may obey him. And the taller he is the better will he throw his weight on the plough-tail. The mere unskilled labourer[1022] only needs to be fit for continuous hard work. For instance, in a vineyard you want a thickset type of labourer to stand the digging etc, and if they are rogues it does not matter much, as they work in a gang under an overseer (_monitore_[1023]). By the by, a scamp is generally more quick-witted than the average, and vineyard work calls for intelligence: this is why chained hands[1024] are commonly employed there. Of course, he adds, an honest man is more efficient than a rogue, other things being equal: don’t charge me with a preference for criminals. Another piece of advice is to avoid[1025] mixing up the various tasks performed by the staff on the plan of making every labourer do every kind of work. It does not pay in farming. Either what is every one’s business is felt to be nobody’s duty in particular; or the effort of the individual is credited to the whole of the gang. This sets him shirking, and yet you cannot single out the offender; and this sort of thing is constantly happening. Therefore keep plowmen vineyard-hands and unskilled labourers apart. Then he passes to numerical[1026] divisions. Squads (_classes_) should be of not more than ten men each, _decuriae_ as the old name was, that the overseer may keep his eye on all. By spreading such squads over different parts of a large farm it is possible to compare results, to detect laziness, and to escape the irritating unfairness of punishing the wrong men.

The general impression left on a reader’s mind by Columella’s principles of slave-management is one of strict control tempered by judicious humanity. It pays not to be harsh and cruel. Whether we can fairly credit him with disinterested sympathy on grounds of a common human nature, such as Seneca was preaching, seems to me very doubtful. That he regarded the slave as a sort of domesticated animal, cannot so far as I know be gathered from direct statements, but may be inferred by just implication from his use of the same language in speaking of slaves and other live stock. Thus we find[1027] the ‘labouring herd,’ and ‘draught-cattle when they are putting in a good spell of work.’ So too the steward is to drive home his slave-gang at dusk ‘after the fashion[1028] of a first-rate herdsman,’ and on arrival first of all to attend to their needs ‘like a careful shepherd.’ The motive of this care is to keep the staff in good working order. Both steward and stewardess are required to pay great attention to the health of the staff. Not only are there prescriptions given for treatment of ailments and injuries, but the slave really stale from overwork is to have a rest; of course malingering must be checked. For the sick there is a special[1029] sick-room, always kept clean and aired, and the general sanitation of the farmstead is strictly enforced. This too is dictated by enlightened self-interest, a part of the general rule[1030] that upkeep is as important as acquisition. The position of the female staff of the farm has also a bearing on this subject. They do not appear to be numerous, though perhaps proportionally more so than in the scheme of Varro. The _vilica_ has a number of maids under her for doing the various house-work[1031] and spinning and weaving. We have already noted the rewards of fertility on their part. For the production of home-bred slaves (_vernae_), always a thing welcomed by proprietors, is most formally recognized by Columella. Why it needed encouragement may perhaps receive some illustration from remarks upon the behaviour of certain birds in the matter of breeding. Thus peafowl do well in places where they can run at large, and the hens take more pains to rear their chicks, being so to speak[1032] set free from slavery. And other birds there are that will not breed in captivity. The analogy of these cases to that of human slaves can hardly have escaped the notice of the writer.

The distinction between the slaves who are chained and those who are not appears the more striking from Columella’s references to the lock-up chamber or slave-prison. His predecessors pass lightly over this matter, but he gives it the fullest recognition. The _ergastulum_ should be a chamber[1033] below ground level, as healthy as you can get, lighted by a number of slits in the wall so high above the floor as to be out of a man’s reach. This dungeon is only for the refractory slaves, chained and constantly inspected. For the more submissive ones cabins (_cellae_) are provided in healthy spots near their work but not so scattered as to make observation difficult. There is even a bath house[1034], which the staff are allowed to use on holidays only: much bathing is weakening. Whether on an average farm the chained or unchained slaves are assumed to be the majority is not quite clear; probably the unchained, to judge by the general tone of the precepts. But that a lock-up is part of the normal establishment is clear enough. And it is to be noted that in one passage[1035] _ergastula_ are mentioned in ill-omened juxtaposition with citizens enslaved by their creditors. Whether it is implied that unhappy debtors were still liable to be locked up as slaves in creditors’ dungeons as of old, is not easy to say. Columella is capable of rhetorical flourishes now and then. It is safer to suppose that he is referring to two forms of slave-labour; first, the working off arrears of debt[1036] by labour of a servile kind; second, the wholesale slave-gang system suggested by the significant word _ergastula_. Or are we to read into it a reference to the kidnapping[1037] of wayfarers which Augustus and Tiberius had striven to put down? Before we leave the subject of the slave-staff it is well to note that no prospect of freedom is held out, at least to the males. Fertility, as we have seen, might lead to manumission of females. But we are not told what use they were likely to make of their freedom, when they had got it. My belief is that they stayed on the estate as tolerated humble dependants; for they would have no other home. Some were natives of the place, and the imported ones would have lost all touch with their native lands. Perhaps the care of poultry[1038] is a specimen of the various minor functions in which they could make themselves useful. At all events they were free from fetters and the lash. And the men too may have been occasionally manumitted on the same sort of terms. Silence does not prove a negative. For instance, we hear of _peculium_, the slave’s quasi-property, only incidentally[1039] as being derived from _pecus_. Yet we are not entitled to say that slaves were not free to make savings under the system of Columella.

Though the _vilicus_ appears in this treatise as the normal head of the management, there are signs that this was not the last word in estate-organization. That he is sometimes[1040] referred to as being the landlord’s agent (_actor_), but usually not, rather suggests that he could be, and often was, confined to a more restricted sphere of duty, namely the purely agricultural superintendence of the farm in hand. This would make him a mere farm-bailiff, directing operations on the land, but with little or no responsibility for such matters as finance. And in a few passages we have mention of a _procurator_. This term must be taken in its ordinary sense[1041] as signifying the landlord’s ‘attorney’ or full legal representative. He is to keep an eye on the management, for instance[1042] the threshing-floor, if the master is not at hand. The position of his quarters indicates his importance: as the steward’s lodging is to be where he can watch goings-out and comings-in, so that of the _procurator_ is to be where[1043] he can have a near view of the steward as well as doings in general. Judging from the common practice of the day, it is probable that he would be a freedman. Now, why does Columella, after referring to him thus early in the treatise, proceed to ignore him afterwards? The only reasonable explanation that occurs to me is that the appointment of such an official would only be necessary in exceptional cases: in short, that in speaking of a _procurator_ he implies an unexpressed reservation ‘supposing such a person to be employed.’ Circumstances that might lead to such an appointment are not far to seek. The landlord might be abroad for a long time on public duty or private business. There might be large transactions pending (purchases, sales, litigation, etc) in connexion with the estate or neighbourhood; in the case of a very large estate this was not unlikely. The estate might be one of several owned by the same lord, and the _procurator_ intermittently resident on one or other as from time to time required. Or lastly the services of an agent with full legal powers may have been desirable in dealing with free tenantry. If a landlord had a number of tenant farmers on his estates, it is most unlikely that his _vilici_, slaves as they were, would be able to keep a firm hand[1044] on them: and the fact of his letting his farms surely suggests that he would not desire to have much rent-collecting or exaction of services to do himself.

One point in which Columella’s system seems to record a change from earlier usage may be found in the comparative disuse of letting out special jobs to contractors. In one passage[1045], when discussing the trenching-work required in _pastinatio_, and devices for preventing the disputes arising from bad execution of the same, he refers to _conductor_ as well as _dominus_. The interests of the two are liable to clash, and he tries to shew a means of ensuring a fair settlement between the parties without going to law. I understand the _conductor_ to be a man who has contracted for the job at an agreed price, and _exactor operis_ just below to be the landlord, whose business it is to get full value for his money. Thus _conductor_ here will be the same as the _redemptor_ so often employed in the scheme of Cato. I cannot find further traces of him in Columella. Nor is the sale of a hanging[1046] crop or a season’s lambs to a speculator referred to. But we have other authority for believing that contracts of this kind were not obsolete, and it is probable that the same is true of contracts for special operations. That such arrangements were nevertheless much rarer than in Cato’s time seems to be a fair inference. The manifest reluctance[1047] to hire external labour also points to the desire of getting, so far as possible, all farming operations performed by the actual farm-staff. If I have rightly judged the position of tenant farmers, it is evident that their stipulated services would be an important help in enabling the landlord to dispense with employment of contractors’ gangs on the farm. This was in itself desirable: that the presence of outsiders was unsettling to your own slaves had long been remarked, and in the more elaborate organization of Columella’s day disturbing influences would be more apprehensively regarded than ever.

It is hardly necessary to follow out all the details of this complicated system and enumerate the various special functions assigned to the members of the staff. To get good foremen even at high prices was one of the leading principles: an instance[1048] is seen in the case of vineyards, where we hear of a thoroughly competent _vinitor_, whose price is reckoned at about £80 of our money, the estimated value of about 4½ acres of land. The main point is that it is a system of slave labour on a large scale, and that Columella, well aware that such labour is in general wasteful, endeavours to make it remunerative by strict order and discipline. He knows very well that current lamentations over the supposed exhaustion[1049] of the earth’s fertility are mere evasions of the true causes of rural decay, neglect and ignorance. He knows that intensive cultivation[1050] pays well, and cites striking instances. But the public for whom he writes is evidently not the men on small holdings, largely market-gardeners[1051], who were able to make a living with or without slave-help, at all events when within reach of urban markets. He addresses men of wealth, most of whom were proud of their position as landlords, but presumably not unwilling to make their estates more remunerative, provided the effort did not give them too much trouble. This condition was the real difficulty; and it is hard to believe that Columella, when insisting on the frequent presence of the master’s eye, was sanguine enough to expect a general response. His attitude towards pastoral industry seems decidedly less enthusiastic than that of his predecessors. Stock[1052] must be kept on the farm, partly to eat off your own fodder-crops, but chiefly for the sake of supplying manure for the arable land. In quoting Cato’s famous saying on the profitableness of grazing, he agrees that nothing pays so quickly as good grazing, and that moderately good grazing pays well enough. But if, as some versions have it, he really said that even bad grazing was the next best thing for a farmer, Columella respectfully dissents. The breeding and fattening of all manner of animals for luxurious tables[1053] remains much the same as in the treatise of Varro. A curious caution is given[1054] in discussing the fattening of thrushes. They are to be fed with ‘dried figs beaten up with fine meal, as much as they can eat or more. Some people chew the figs before giving them to the birds. But it is hardly worth while to do this if you have a large number to feed, for it costs money to hire[1055] persons to do the chewing, and the sweet taste makes them swallow a good deal themselves.’ Now, why hire labour for such a purpose? Is it because slaves would swallow so much of the sweet stuff that your thrushes would never fatten?

It is well known that importation of corn from abroad led to great changes in Italian agriculture in the second century BC. The first was the formation of great estates worked by slave-gangs, which seems to have begun as an attempt to compete with foreign large-scale farming in the general production of food-stuffs. If so, it was gradually discovered that it did not pay to grow cereal crops for the market, unscrupulous in slave-driving though the master might be. Therefore attention was turned to the development on a larger scale of the existing culture of the vine and olive and the keeping of great flocks and herds. Food for these last had to be found on the farm in the winter, and more and more it became usual only to grow cereals as fodder for the stock, of course including the slaves. No doubt there was a demand for the better sorts, such as wheat, in all the country towns, but the farms in their immediate neighbourhood would supply the need. That Columella assumes produce of this kind to be normally consumed on the place, is indicated by his recommending[1056] barley as good food for all live-stock, and for slaves when mixed with wheat. Also by his treating the delicate[1057] white wheat, much fancied in Rome, as a degenerate variety, not worth the growing by a practical farmer. His instructions for storage shew the same point of view. The structure and principles of granaries[1058] are discussed at length, and the possibility of long storage[1059] is contemplated. The difficulties of transport by land had certainly been an important influence in the changes of Roman husbandry, telling against movements of bulky produce. Hence the value attached[1060] to situations near the seaboard or a navigable stream (the latter not a condition often to be realized in Italy) by Columella and his predecessors. Military roads served the traveller as well as the armies, but took no regard[1061] of agricultural needs. Moreover they had special[1062] drawbacks. Wayfarers had a knack of pilfering from farms on the route, and someone or other was always turning up to seek lodging and entertainment. Thus it was wise not to plant your villa close to one of these trunk roads, or your pocket was likely to suffer. But to have a decent approach[1063] by a country road was a great convenience, facilitating the landlord’s periodical visits and the carriage of goods to and from the estate.

Certain words call for brief notice. Thus _opera_, the average day’s work of an average worker, is Columella’s regular labour-unit in terms of which he expresses the labour-cost[1064] of an undertaking. In no other writer is this more marked. Occasionally _operae_ occurs in the well-known concrete sense[1065] of the ‘hands’ themselves. The _magistri_ mentioned are not always the foremen spoken of above, but sometimes[1066] directors or teachers in a general sense or even as a sort of synonym for _professores_. To recur once again to _colonus_, the word, as in other writers, often means simply ‘cultivator,’ not ‘tenant-farmer.’ The latter special sense occurs in a passage[1067] which would be useful evidence for the history of farm-tenancies, if it were not doubtful whether the text is sound.

There remains a question, much more than a merely literary problem, as to the true relation of Columella to Vergil. That he constantly quotes the poet, and cites him as an authority on agriculture, is a striking fact. One instance will shew the deep veneration with which he regards the great master. In speaking[1068] of the attention to local qualities of climate and soil needed in choosing an estate, he quotes lines from the first _Georgic_, the matter of which is quite traditional, common property. But he speaks of Vergil (to name the poet[1069] was unnecessary) as a most realistic[1070] bard, to be trusted as an oracle. Nay, so irresistible is to him the influence of Vergil, that he must needs cast his own tenth book into hexameter verse: the subject of that book is gardens, a topic on which Vergil had confessedly[1071] not fully said his say. And yet in the treatment of the land-question there is a fundamental difference between the two writers. Columella’s system is based on slave labour organized to ensure the completest efficiency: Vergil practically ignores slavery altogether. Columella advises you to let land to tenant farmers whenever you cannot effectively superintend the working of slave-organizations under stewards: Vergil ignores this solution also, and seems vaguely to contemplate a return to the system of small farms owned and worked by free yeomen in an idealized past. Columella is concerned to see that capital invested in land is so employed as to bring in a good economic return: Vergil dreams of the revival of a failing race, and possible economic success and rustic wellbeing are to him not so much ends as means. The contrast is striking enough. In the chapter on Vergil I have already pointed out that the poet had at once captured the adoration of the Roman world. It was not only in quotations or allusions, or in the incense of praise, that his supremacy was held in evidence so long as Latin literature remained alive. His influence affected prose style also, and subtle reminiscences of Vergilian flavour maybe traced in Tacitus. But all this is very different from the practice of citing him as an authority on a special subject, as Columella did and the elder Pliny did after him.

I would venture to connect this practice with the Roman habit of viewing their own literature as inspired by Greek models and so tending to move on parallel lines. Cicero was not content to be a Roman Demosthenes; he must needs try to be a Roman Plato too, if not also a Roman Aristotle. Now citation of the Homeric poems as a recognized authority on all manner of subjects, not to mention casual illustrations, runs through Greek literature. Plato and Aristotle are good instances. It is surely not surprising that we find Roman writers patriotically willing to cite their own great poet, more especially as the _Georgics_ lay ready to hand. In the next generation after Columella, Quintilian framed his criticism[1072] of the two literatures (as food for oratorical students) on frankly parallel lines. Vergil is the pair to Homer: second to the prince of singers, but a good second: and he is quoted and cited throughout the treatise as Homer is in Aristotle’s _Rhetoric_. True, the cases are not really parallel. Whatever preexistent material may have served to build up the Homeric poems, they are at least not didactic poems, made up of precepts largely derived from technical writers, and refined into poetic form with mature and laborious skill. To quote the _Georgics_, not only for personal observation of facts but for guiding precepts, is often to quote a secondary authority in a noble dress, and serves but for adornment. But in such a consideration there would be nothing to discourage Roman literary men. To challenge Vergil’s authority on a rustic subject remained the prerogative of Seneca.

Additional note to page 263

Varro _de lingua Latina_ VII § 105 says _liber qui suas operas
in servitutem pro pecunia quadam debebat dum solveret nexus
vocatur, ut ab aere obaeratus_. This antiquarian note is of
interest as illustrating the meaning of _operae_, and the
former position of the debtor as a temporary slave.

AGE OF THE FLAVIAN AND ANTONINE EMPERORS

XXXIV. GENERAL INTRODUCTION.

It is not easy to find a satisfactory line of division between the period of the Flavian emperors and that of the adoptive series that came after them. The Plebeian Flavians had no family claim, through birth or adoption, to a preeminent position in the Roman world, and the rise of Vespasian to power was indeed a revolution. Henceforth, though outward forms and machinery remained, the real control of the empire rested with those supported directly or indirectly by the great armies. But the sound administrative policy set going by the common sense of Vespasian long maintained the imperial fabric in strength, and it is commonly held that from 69 to 180 AD was the Empire’s golden age. Nevertheless its vitality was already ebbing, and the calamities that beset it in the days of Marcus Aurelius found it unable to renew its vigour after holding in check its barbarian invaders. The Flavian-Antonine period must be treated as one, and from the point of view of the present inquiry certain significant facts must always be borne in mind. The Italian element in the armies was becoming less and less. Military policy consisted chiefly in defence of the frontiers, for the annexations of Trajan were not lasting, and they exhausted strength needed for defence. It was an ominous sign that the Roman power of assimilation was failing. Mixed armies of imperfectly Romanized soldiery, whether as conquerors or as settlers, could not spread Roman civilization in the same thorough way as it had become at length established in Spain or southern Gaul. To spread it extensively and not intensively meant a weakening of Roman grasp; and at some points[1073] it seems as if the influx of barbarism was felt to be a menace in time of peace, not effectively counteracted by the peaceful penetration of Rome.

Now, if the protection of Italy by chiefly alien swords was to relieve the imperial centre from the heavy blood-tax borne by it in the old days of Roman expansion, surely it remained an Italian function or duty to provide carriers[1074] of Roman civilization, that is, if border lands were to be solidly Romanized as a moral bulwark against barbarism. But this duty could only be performed by a healthy and vigorous Italy, and Italy[1075] was not healthy and vigorous. Internal security left the people free to go on in the same ways as they had now been following for generations, and those ways, as we have seen, did not tend to the revival of a free rural population. Country towns were not as yet in manifest decay, but there were now no imperial politics, and municipal politics, ever petty and self-regarding, offered no stimulus to arouse a larger and common interest. Municipalities looked for benefactors, and were still able to find them. In this period we meet with institutions of a charitable kind, some even promoted by the imperial government, for the benefit of orphans and children of the poor. This was a credit to the humanity of the age, but surely a palliative of social ailments, not a proof of sound condition. In Rome there was life, but it was cosmopolitan life. Rome was the capital of the Roman world, not of Italy. In the eyes of jealous patriots it seemed that what Rome herself needed was a thorough Romanizing. It was not from the great wicked city, thronged with adventurers[1076] of every sort, largely Oriental Greeks, and hordes of freedmen, that the better Roman influences could spread abroad. Nor were the old Provinces, such as Spain and southern Gaul, where Roman civilization had long been supreme, in a position to assimilate[1077] and Romanize the ruder border-lands by the Rhine and Danube. They had no energies to spare: moreover, they too depended on the central government, and the seat of that government was Rome.

Italy alone could have vitalized the empire by moral influence, creating in the vast fabric a spiritual unity, and making a great machine into something more or less like a nation,—that is, if she had been qualified for acting such a part. But Italy had never been a nation herself. The result of the great Italian war of 90 and 89 BC had been to merge Italy in Rome, not Rome in Italy. Italians, now Romans, henceforth shared the exploitation of the subject countries and the hatred of oppressed peoples. But under the constitution of the Republic politics became more of a farce the more the franchise was extended, and the most obvious effect of Italian enfranchisement was to increase the number of those who directly or indirectly made a living out of provincial wrongs. The Provinces swarmed with bloodsuckers of every kind. The establishment of the Empire at length did something to relieve the sufferings of the Provinces. But it was found necessary to recognize Italy as a privileged imperial land. In modern times such privilege would take the form of political rights and responsibilities. But political life was dead, and privilege could only mean local liberties, exemption from burdens, and the like. And in the long run the maintenance or abolition of privilege would have to depend on the success or failure of the system. Now the emperors of the first two centuries of the Empire did their best to maintain the privileged position of Italy. But even in the time of Augustus it was already becoming clear that Romanized Italy depended on Rome and that Rome, so far as the Senate and Magistrates were concerned, could not provide for the efficient administration of Italy or even of Rome itself. Then began the long gradual process by which Italy, like the rest of the empire, passed more and more under the control of the imperial machine. In the period we are now considering this was steadily going on, for brief reactions, such as that under Nerva, did not really check it, and Italy was well on the way to become no more than a Province.