Chapter VII: 367 (1)

_THE FAMILY AND THE STATE IN ITALIAN COMMUNES._[368]

I.[369]

It is certain that no real national history of Italy can be written until the statutes and laws of our communes have been published, studied, and thoroughly investigated by the light not merely of historical but of legal research. The necessity for such investigation was first proclaimed by the learned Savigny, subsequently recognised by many Italian scholars, but has never yet been entirely satisfied. An accurate study of those old laws and statutes would make us acquainted with the public law of the communes, and place before our eyes a clear and exact picture of their political institutions which have been hitherto very imperfectly understood. Moreover, what is certainly of no less importance--it would enlarge our knowledge of our ancient private law, to which many learned authorities, among others Francesco Forti, attribute the origin of modern jurisprudence, and the germs of many jural provisions, afterwards accepted by us as novelties derived from the French Code.

Public and private law have far more affinity than is generally supposed, and each conduces to the plainer and more exact comprehension of the other. Society and the State have both their birth in the family, reacting upon and modifying it in turn. No student therefore who seeks to discover the true key to political institutions developing themselves in a country spontaneously, should neglect the constitution of the family wherein are to be found the earliest beginnings of civil law, with which political law also is more or less connected. Cases, it is true, frequently occur of one people adopting the civil law of another, without altering its own political institutions; while in other instances both are imposed simultaneously by a superior foreign force. This has led many to question the reality of the connection which in fact subsists between them. But these cases have nothing to do with that natural and spontaneous development of law of which we are now speaking. In this development, politics and jurisprudence, the State and the family, are found to be closely interconnected.

In the course of Florentine history we often see political revolutions break out suddenly and apparently without warning; but on closer examination we perceive them to be the result of deep social changes which have been maturing for a long time, and although imperceptible at first, afterwards assuming such proportions as to become suddenly visible to all eyes and productive of political reforms. Thus it happens that private law, which always accompanies social movements and changes with them, not unfrequently enables us to trace the sources and unfold the true tendency and inexorable necessity of revolutions, even before they come to pass. Accordingly, the habitual neglect of this particular study in connection with the history of Italy has proved a serious defect. No one at the present day would venture to write the political history of Rome without giving attention to the Roman jurisprudence. Nevertheless, we have written the history of our republics over and over again, without bestowing a thought on their civil and penal legislation.

It is true that the investigation required presents very great difficulties, inasmuch as our history was subject, during the Middle Ages, to a series of changes, always rapid and always different. The number of our republics is infinite. Every province of Italy, every fragment of Italian territory is divided and subdivided into communes, every one of which has a distinct history, and political institutions which are constantly changing. This perpetual mutation is faithfully reflected in the statutes of the Commune. On the margins of these statutes we find alterations and corrections registered from year to year, and formulated, not unfrequently, after the streets of the city had begun to run with blood. When annotations and corrections reach a certain number, the statutes are drafted anew, and of these re-drafts also many copies are still extant. It was the duty of the officials in charge of the statutes (_statutari_) to enter from time to time such farther modifications as were afterwards approved of in the Councils of the People. Hence it sometimes happens that on referring to the statutes of a given year, we may find the duties of some chief magistrate of the Republic set forth in their text with the most minute detail, whereas if we look to the notes it will appear that these duties have already been changed. If we next consult the remodelled statute it will be found that the magistracy itself no longer exists. How is it possible, therefore, to give any idea of the political form of a municipality fashioned in such wise? This can only be done by gleaning from the mass of the statutes the history of the constitution through all its successive changes of form. In a word, we must recognise that, instead of being confronted by a system crystallised, fixed and immutable, we are watching a living organism develop under our eyes in obedience to a settled law. This law alone is uniform, and it is this we must endeavour to trace, since it alone can solve the mystery and supply exact ideas. Turning from public law to private legislation, our difficulties rather increase than diminish. For, in perusing this, by no means less important portion of the statutes, we come upon a confused medley of legal systems differing from and often opposed to one another. When we meet with such terms as _meta_ and _mundium_, _wergild_ and _morgengab_, _dos_ and _tutela_, testamentary succession and succession by agreement, we recognise that Longobard law, Roman law, feudal law, and canon law are all present, and perceive that they are blended in constantly varying proportions. These diverse legal systems act and react one upon the other, producing reciprocal changes. Into the Roman law, provisions are constantly filtering which indubitably belong to the Longobard law, while the latter in its turn is profoundly modified ("mutilated and castrated," as Gans expresses it) by the Roman law. How are we to explain this congeries of different laws? Is there any new and original principle that assimilates the heterogeneous elements and constitutes a new law? If so, what is it? This is the knotty problem which Savigny encouraged us to attack, but which we have hitherto failed to unravel. But although the question remains unsolved, its importance is now universally acknowledged; it has been carefully studied, and many treatises, including some of the highest value, have been published on the subject. Accordingly certain observations may at last be offered to the public.

The constitution of the family and its relation with the State are, as it were, the chief centre round which all fresh researches must revolve, and these form the subject of this short and summary essay. As a preliminary step towards the solution of the problem, an accurate investigation is required of the various forms that the family assumed under the various systems of law which succeeded one another in Italy, in order to ascertain how it was that from the combination of those various forms, another and widely different one should have resulted. The first question therefore that presents itself has reference to the condition of the Roman law and the Roman family at the time of the barbarian invasion. As regards the Italian communes, it is only natural that the Roman jurisprudence should strike the deepest and strongest root in their social system, and that the history of our laws should originally find in it their first beginning. Here, however, we are forced to enter on a digression which, although seemingly apart from the point, will presently help us to a clearer understanding of the new society in course of development. With regard to this digression it should also be said that so much learning and research have been directed to the study of Roman law, that we are able to arrive at certain trustworthy conclusions which, by affording evidence of the close connection between the Roman family, and the political society derived from it, will show us what path to take in pursuit of the same connection in the history of Italy.

II.

Every student of the Pandects knows that the words "Roman law" denote the outcome of long preliminary labours, and the ultimate form of a jurisprudence which cannot be rightly understood without analysing all the historical elements employed in preparing and building it up. Treated in this way, the history of Roman law becomes, as it were, instantly transformed into a history of many different legislations following one another at intervals. From the Twelve Tables down to Justinian, this law never halts for an hour in its constant course of development. Even during the Middle Ages, when the compilations made at Constantinople were studied with religious zeal by expounders and commentators whose sole object was to faithfully reproduce and diffuse this law, even thus, in the hands of those interpreters, influenced by the altered spirit of the times and by new social developments, it underwent changes of which they were not themselves conscious. It is not until the fifteenth century that this historic development can be said to have ceased among us, and Roman law become mainly a subject of learned research. It is at this time that a new and modern system of jurisprudence first reveals itself to history, endowed with a separate life, and with a form of its own, though borrowing much from the Roman law, which in consequence continues to be of the utmost value to us, and still deserves our most assiduous attention, although for a very different purpose from that with which it was studied during the Middle Ages. Our object is now to familiarise ourselves with an immortal monument of ancient wisdom, to shape our legal education by it, to be helped by it to a clearer understanding of our own codes, and to contemplate it in its successive manifestations, while we search for its regulating law. It is in fact the discovery of this law that has at once thrown a new light upon the whole history of Roman jurisprudence, which we perceive to have been always and unceasingly governed by it, and thus forced to assume a character so constant and continuous through all its various transformations, that what had before seemed to be a series of distinct legislations takes an entirely new aspect, making us spectators, as it were, of the evolution of a single idea, the progressive development of a work of Nature.

All this continuous progress or evolution was the result of two forces, of two different elements. The true, primitive law of Rome was the special law of the Quirites, of which we find the remains in the Twelve Tables: a severe and restricted law abounding in formulas which had to be sacredly observed, and its administration was entrusted to a small number of citizens who alone were acquainted with its rules, whose authority was sanctioned by religion. The smallest mistake of form made void the most just decree, and where the law omitted to define the formula to be observed, no valid action could be brought. When the due formula, making the contract binding, had once been pronounced, no proof of mistake or fraud could annul it. "Uti lingua nuncupassit ita ius esto." A slave to forms, the judge could not listen to the voice of morality or rectitude; the most just complaint failed to move him, unless supported by a text of law. The defendant dared not stir a step without the continual guidance of the legislator, inasmuch as every juridical formula was sacred and inviolable; and as the science of law was monopolised by the College of Pontiffs, the most aristocratic and conservative body in Rome, it became a kind of occult science. It was this very character, however, apparently so restricted and pedantic, that gave its great force to the law in Rome. For law, being now freed for the first time from every extraneous element belonging to morals and good faith, became firm and inexorable. Any one who had the law in his favour was safe to see it promptly carried out. History affords no example elsewhere of legal sanction and redress being applied so swiftly and surely as in Rome. In Athens, indeed, where the laws were more philosophical, and the popular conscience gave judgment, investigating motives, despising formulas, and looking only to substantial justice, caprice often prevailed, and law never attained the iron strength and tenacity of the Roman jurisprudence.

But with changing times, all things changed in Rome. This jurisprudence revered as sacred, but described by Vico as _made up of formulas and phrases_, was well adapted to a rude and primitive people. Ideas had greatly altered in the days of Cicero, who in his speech _pro Murena_ severely satirises a science which, in his eyes, had become ridiculous: "res enim sunt parvæ, prope in singulis literis atque interpunctionibus occupatæ." He looked upon the whole thing as a fraud designed by the priests to secure themselves a monopoly. Was he in the right or the wrong? Vico, in examining a similar question, showed that Cicero was mistaken on this score. Cicero and his contemporaries, he said, lived in too cultivated an age to comprehend rude and primitive jurisprudence; they could not grasp its true significance, but formed their judgment of the ancient laws according to the ideas and principles of their own times. This view, which was first broached in the _Scienza Nuova_, was afterwards accepted by many other writers; and it is now placed beyond a doubt that the primitive Roman law was not the artifice of a learned few, but was a spontaneous and necessary growth among the people with whom it had its origin. At first, custom, clearly distinguished from the law formulated and written, tempered its rigid severity. Good faith and equity, disregarded and rejected by the law, found their sanction in custom, were administered by a separate tribunal, and were always respected, inasmuch as the sentence pronounced by the officiating magistrate was morally, though not legally, binding, and was therefore of great efficacy as the genuine expression of public opinion. The sentence of condemnation could not be carried out by force; but it made the condemned man infamous, and, as a last resort, the magistrate could cite the accused before the people, as the supreme legislator and judge.

But at a later date customs grew corrupt, and no longer sufficed to protect public good faith and morality, which were driven to seek asylum and sanction in the law, and so began gradually to modify its primitive character. Substance now prevailed over form, equity over the ancient text of the law, the intention of the contracting parties over words uttered by mistake; the law became more moral as customs grew more degraded. This transformation, though very gradual at the beginning, was afterward, accelerated by the new conditions of the Republics in which a change took place not unlike that occurring in the history of jurisprudence, towards the beginning of the seventeenth century. At that time the various European States, with their various systems of law, having contracted new relations with one another, came to recognise the necessity of establishing some fixed rules by which all should be bound, and thus, under the auspices of Hugh Grotius, the so-called School of Natural Law was built up. The same occurred in Rome, if not in the science, at any rate in the practice of law. As the dominion of the Republic became extended in Italy, its relations increased with neighbouring nations, among whom the more philosophical and less severe laws and principles of the Greek jurisprudence prevailed. It was impossible to impose upon all these nations, without modification, the rigid law of the Roman patriciate. Accordingly a new system of law, of a simpler character and wider reach, took shape and rapidly grew. This was named the _jus gentium_, to distinguish it from the other, the _jus civile_. "Jus gentium est quod naturalis ratio inter omnes homines constituit." This system, however, was not deduced from philosophic theories concerning human nature, as was the, appropriately styled, natural law of the eighteenth century; it originated in the practical needs of the Romans and their new relations with other Italian peoples: it was fostered by the principles of Greek jurisprudence that had been transplanted into Southern Italy; it met the new requirements of the Romans themselves; and taking the place that custom had previously filled in the Roman courts, grew side by side with the law of the Patricians with which it long maintained its union.

There were thus two systems of law in force in Rome; and we accordingly find on the one hand judges and courts faithful to the ancient formalism, on the other, judges and courts taking cognizance of equity and good faith, and almost discharging the duties of the Censor. The continuous onward progress of the _jus gentium_, the reciprocal action of the two legal systems ultimately fusing them into one, wherein the old Roman formation gradually lost its rigidity, and equity, becoming incorporated with the civil law, began to assume a more definite and regular form, were all consequences of the principle which dominates the life and history of the Roman law, and may even be said to constitute it. For it has been moulded and diffused through the world, inheriting from the old Quirites its frame of iron; from contact with other races and from such germs as it could assimilate of Greek civilisation, its more comprehensive and human spirit. Assuming thus a character at once exact and philosophical, it seemed as though destined to become, from its superiority, the universal jurisprudence, the indispensable foundation, as it were, of all future legislation. This union of legal systems was effected by the Prætor. He it was who represented both the modern spirit and the ancient, enlarging the old law with the defences of equity which he strengthened by submitting it to the trammels of a formal procedure. This in substance was what took place with regard to customs, letters, and everything else. The fusion of Greek civilisation with the Roman constitutes the history of the ancient world.

III.

As is natural, we also meet with the same phenomena in the history of the family, from which the civil law is to a great extent derived. In fact, whoever contemplates the primitive Roman family, at once recognises it as the basis upon which the future juridical and political greatness of Rome was erected. The family is sacred; the father is absolute master of the goods, the liberty and the life both of his wife and of his children. He is priest, judge, supreme arbiter: wife, children, and grandchildren form with him a single joint society, one legal entity of which he is the representative. The woman may be bartered away, killed, or sold in execution; freed by marriage from the despotic control of her father, she at once falls under that of her husband; her legal incapacity lasts through her whole life. But primitive customs so temper this harsh law that we find no other people of antiquity so observant of the sanctity of family, or showing so much respect to woman. Matrimony is styled "consortium omnis vitæ, divini et humani iuris communicatio." Divorce on the part of the husband (_repudium_) is not forbidden by law, but any man who repudiates his wife is dishonoured by the Censor, excommunicated by the priest, and for a period of five centuries few cases of repudiation are recorded. In ancient Greece some traces of oriental polygamy are still discernible, but in Italy monogamy is coeval with Rome itself. Natural children, as such, never rank as members of the family, but they may be legitimated. Adoption is a solemn act, the moral propriety of which is referred to the decision of the pontifex, as the guardian of the sanctity of the family, and is thus submitted to the popular sanction. The woman is never seen in places of public resort, nor does she attend popular gathering; but within doors she is _domina_, and the husband addresses her by that title. The _Atrium_ is the centre and sanctuary of the house. Here relations, friends, and strangers meet together; here stand the domestic hearth, the altar dedicated to the _Lares_, and all those objects which the family holds sacred: the nuptial coach, the ancestral likenesses moulded in wax from the faces of the dead, the matron's rock and spindle, the chest containing the household records and monies. All these possessions are entrusted to the care and superintendence of the mother of the family, who, together with her husband, sacrifices to the gods and assists him in the management of the common patrimony: she directs all domestic work, and watches over the education of her children. In the annals and legends of Rome the name of some heroine, such as Virginia or Lucretia, is indissolubly linked with the chief glories of the Eternal City. It is not so in Greece. In instituting and sanctifying the family, the Romans laid the foundation-stone of the Capitol. But to maintain this primitive nucleus of Roman society firm and compact, the law must always watch with vigilance and multiply its ordinances. The property of the family must be kept together as strictly as possible and for the longest possible time. The father is its sole master and arbiter; but on his death the patrimony is equally divided between sons and daughters. The _unity_ of the family must also be guarded and defended by the law, since there is serious danger that a woman marrying may carry away from the family an interest in the family property. She is accordingly subjected by the law to a perpetual tutelage which prevents her from disposing at will of her own property. On the death of her father the woman comes under the tutelage of the agnati. In Cicero's day, when as Vico has noted, the true significance of primitive Roman law had been lost, lawyers believed that this tutelage of women had been established on account of the weakness of the sex, _propter sexus infirmitatem_. But Gaius refers to this opinion as a plausible and prevalent error, and maintains that the restriction was instituted in the interest of the agnati, so that the woman, whose presumptive heirs they were, should have no power to alienate, diminish, or otherwise defraud them of their inheritance.[370]

So long as the woman remained under the tutelage of her father, inasmuch as she had not yet inherited, the law allowed her to incur legal obligations. The danger for the family began when, on her father's death, she became an heir. It was from that precise moment, accordingly, that she came under the tutelage of her own heirs the agnati, and could no longer bind herself without their consent. This tutelage, therefore, became not merely a duty on the part of the agnati, but was also a right and privilege. Where the agnate was a minor, of weak mind, or otherwise incapacitated, he did not forfeit this right, but it had to be exercised by a third party. The tutor fixed the dowry to be given with the woman on her marriage; but the remainder of her patrimony had to be preserved intact, that it might return afterwards to the agnati. No woman could make a will, that she might not have it in her power to defraud the family. On passing _in manus viri_, the woman underwent a _capitis diminutio_. She entered another family, as it were, _loco filiæ_, and her new relations became her lawful heirs. Under these circumstances the law permitted her to make a testamentary disposition, whereby, notwithstanding her new relationships, she might restore her patrimony to her own original family.

When the woman was under the _manus_ of her husband, she was emancipated from the paternal authority and from the tutelage of her agnates. The displeasure thereby caused to her own family was so great that, before long, marriage by simple consent was resorted to, according to which the woman became personally subject to her husband's authority, but he had no right of _manus_ over her, and consequently no power over her property. In this way the woman remained under the power of her father or of the agnates, and at the same time came under the authority of her husband, an arrangement that inevitably led to many collisions, and hastened the advent of the most radical change in the Roman family--the complete independence of woman. But, before reaching this point, disputes were for a long time kept in check and efficaciously remedied by the mediating influence of a most important institution--the domestic tribunal. This family council, regulated by usage, not law, was composed of agnates, cognates, relations, and sometimes also of friends. It presided at espousals and at the assumption of the _toga virilis_; it protected orphans; it aided the head of the family in adjudicating and in awarding punishment, and acted as a restraint on his authority. By law, the father could act even without the co-operation of the Council; but by doing so, he exposed himself to being publicly blamed and noted with ignominy by the Censor, who, if necessary, might accuse him before the people. The marriageable maiden was subject to and protected by this Council.

Becoming a wife by that form of marriage which brought her _in manus viri_, she left her own family to become member of another; but if not married under that form, she still remained subject to the family Council, in which her husband was now included.

IV.

In the age of Cæsar, the Roman family is no longer what it was at first. Laws, usages, ideas, all are changed; and everything is moving onward to a still more radical transformation. The _jus gentium_ seems to have become identical with the more rigorous _jus civile_. The _fideicommissum_ has almost the force of a testament in solemn form, and has become part, as it were, of the _jus civile_; _verbal contract_, the ancient _stipulatio_, once so hampered by formulas, is grown so flexible as to resemble a contract under the _jus gentium_. But the greatest change of all has taken place in the family. The domestic hearth is no longer the household sanctuary. The _Atrium_ is transformed into an open courtyard, enlivened with flowers and limpid fountains, ornamented with gilded busts and statues, often of an obscene character. Sacrifices are no longer offered there to the gods amid the stillness and purity of domestic and religious affection; it now serves the enriched and corrupt patrician as a place of reception for his numerous friends and clients. The family of former days, once almost a State within the State, is now dissolved, and, as it were, swallowed up by the political power. The agnates no longer cleave together, the domestic tribunal has either lost its strength or has entirely disappeared. Paternal authority, though less absolute, is more oppressive, being no longer in harmony with the changed customs. If a father disinherits his son, the judge cancels the will. Should he refuse consent to his son's marriage, the State compels him to grant it; should he punish his son with death, the emperor sends him into exile; he cannot ill-use even his slaves without being punished by the law, for the law has grown moral as manners become more corrupt. By gradual degrees woman escapes from tutelage, and from _manus_, and ultimately attains her independence. But the more she is emancipated from her family and relations, the greater becomes her subjection to the State. In her new independence she incurs new disabilities, no longer resulting from her position as daughter or wife, but from the fact of her sex, disabilities no longer imposed in the interest of the family, but created as a protection for her infirmity. This explains how it was that the lawyers of later days were mistaken as to the significance of the old law touching the _tutela_ of woman. The wife's dowry is guaranteed to her more and more strictly, until it finally becomes her almost inseparable property. It must neither be alienated nor diminished. On her becoming a widow, being divorced, or returning to the paternal roof, she remains absolute mistress of it. A husband who surprises his wife in adultery can no longer--hiding his dishonour within his own walls--judge and put her to death with the consent of the domestic tribunal. He must now leave the State to avenge his wrongs, and must resort to the courts, even though seeking only minor penalties. Divorce has become a public act of not unfrequent occurrence. The woman, in short, is no longer under her husband's _manus_, no longer subject to the _patria potestas_, no longer under the tutelage of the _agnati_: she is protected by the State. When the law still requires her to have a _tutor_ or procurator, she can choose a stranger who becomes her servant rather than her master. Eventually even this last shadow of subjection disappears. Absolutely her own mistress, the woman may now hold property, increase her fortune, make her will, lose her virtue; but her dowry, guaranteed and kept intact by law, remains hers to the end of her life.

Nevertheless, as regards succession, the woman's rights are not yet the same as the man's. It is true, that should her father die intestate, she takes an equal share with her brothers of the inheritance; but in all other cases of intestacy the nearest female agnate stands after the most distant male. The woman cannot now do any legal act for others, though this had not been forbidden previously; she cannot be a witness; she cannot stand security for the debts of others. The _Senatus-consultum Velleianum_ lays it down as a fixed rule, which, to a certain extent, has remained in force to our own days--that the woman must not undertake any obligation on behalf of others. She may alienate her possessions in others' favour, may incur a direct obligation, contract a debt, and transfer the money to others; but she cannot bind herself to pay another's debt, nor guarantee its payment. In the legislator's opinion, the infirmity of her sex leaves her enough intelligence to escape danger in assuming direct obligations, or by alienating her property, but not enough to guard her from lightly undertaking remote and indirect liabilities which are often no less serious.

But the progressive changes in the Roman family are not yet at an end. To the numberless causes for change already in existence another is added, when Christianity finds its way into the Empire, into literature and law, and subverts all things. According to the law of Christ, man and woman are equal; father and mother have equal rights and duties in respect of their children, for whose advantage all things must be ordered; whereas, by the old law, the rights of the children were subordinated to the interests of the family. A new element is now introduced into Roman law which further changes its character, already much modified by Greek philosophy and by Byzantine despotism. The Canon law accepts the principles of the Roman, recognises the wife's absolute interest in her marriage portion, and rejects the pretensions of the husband. Woman remains excluded from every office which the ancients deemed proper to man; she cannot enter into obligations for others, nor arbitrate, nor lay an accusation, nor bear witness in court; her evidence has no legal effect. On the other hand, Roman law tends inexorably to democratic equality, natural equity, and to the absolute predominance of the State. The public authority deprives domestic authority of its last remnant of power; it may almost be said that the family, as a body-politic, disappears, to be reconstituted on the footing of reciprocal affection. The final seal to these alterations was imposed by the famous law of succession (Nov. 118 and 127) enacted by Justinian in the years 543 and 547, which, suppressing every privilege of sex and agnation, fixes rights according to the degree of relationship, and makes them reciprocal. It moreover enlarges the amount of the legitim, and ordains that the dowry of the wife should be met by a _donatio propter nuptias_ of equal value from the husband, and that, in the interest of the children, both should be inalienable. Even with the consent of his wife, the husband cannot sell the dowry; he may only administer it, and there must be complete reciprocity. The wife is not only the owner of the dowry, she has besides a general charge over her husband's property for its restitution, with a right of action to enforce it as against all his other creditors. In inheriting from their children the mother has equal right with the father, and she is now qualified to be their guardian. Even the _Senatus-consultum Velleianum_, which forbade women to incur obligations on behalf of others, is modified with the same scope. Justinian, indeed, from his desire to protect the property of the woman against all danger, is strenuously opposed to her incurring obligations on behalf of her husband; but he is much more indulgent in respect to obligations undertaken on behalf of a stranger. These, if incurred for manifestly good cause, are valid if renewed after two years. Thus modified, the _Senatus-consultum Velleianum_ is treated with respect throughout the Middle Ages. Reciprocal equality is now achieved, but the ancient unity of the family is dissolved; the compact and iron nucleus of Roman society is broken to fragments by the continual and increasing action of the State. In all her institutions, Rome has succeeded in arriving at democracy and equality, but at the cost of complete individual liberty, and by sacrificing the development of special associations and of local life to the unity of the State. How to conciliate these two elements without destroying the one in the interest of the other will be the problem of a new era and a new civilisation.

However highly we may rate the amazing and indisputable greatness of the labours of Imperial legislators and juris-consults collected in the _Corpus iuris_ in the time of Justinian, it is nevertheless certain that the ancient and primitive character of Roman law has been profoundly changed by it, and that the despotism of the State, always prevalent in Rome, has been enormously increased. It is for this reason that Tocqueville, and others with him, go so far as to maintain that the great diffusion of the Justinian law among the Latin races has more than once proved hurtful to political freedom. To many, such an assertion may seem absurd; but granting that there is a close bond of connection between private and public law, and that the final changes in Roman law were introduced by the action of the growing despotism of the State, the opinion advanced by the French writer is not without its value.

V.

However that may be, it is undeniable that the family, as we now find it constituted, or, more correctly speaking, weakened, by the Justinian law has not the qualities which would enable it, in the ages of barbarism now at hand, to withstand the violent onset of the advancing Germanic peoples, much less to be the nucleus and germ from which the new society of the Italian Commune may take birth. In fact, in the statutes we find the family constituted on a very different footing. Agnation has recovered its ascendancy. The woman is under a new species of guardianship; and although the dotal system is rigorously observed, there are innumerable regulations designed to keep family property together, or make it revert to the family, so as to preserve the domestic patrimony intact. Here an important question arises, namely, whether this new constitution of the family, which stands in close relation with the public law of the communes, is a return to the pre-Justinian law, or derived from Germanic institutions and the Longobard law, in which we find, in fact, precedence accorded to agnate kin and a more stable family organisation? Italian writers, the earlier writers more especially, adhered for the most part to the former theory, while the majority of German authors, who have recently found disciples even among ourselves, adopt the second view. Thus, on either side we find theories propounded as to the constitution of the Italian family in the Middle Ages, analogous to those concerning the origin of the communes.[371]

The persistence of Roman law in the Middle Ages, even when the condition of the Italians was most wretched, and when all things seemed to be subject to the law of the Longobard, was maintained with marvellous learning and acumen in the immortal work of Savigny. But, in truth, though public law and penal law might readily be altered under the rule of the conqueror, there was little likelihood that the civil law which, for so many centuries, had filtered into the usages and into the very blood of the Romans, which had regulated the manifold relations of a civilised people and satisfied its countless requirements, should perish utterly beneath the sword of barbarians unconscious of those requirements and not always able to comprehend those relations. Matters of which they were to a great extent ignorant, or as to which they were indifferent, must often have been passed over without notice in the laws framed by the barbarians, or have evaded their action. Various provisions, therefore, of the Roman law--those, for instance, relating to marriage, to succession, and to contract--must often have continued to be applied by the Italians in conformity with ancient usage. This will be more readily understood if we reflect that while the Roman law had become the law of _all_ in those countries in which the Roman conquest had taken deep root, the laws of the barbarians, on the contrary, according to Teutonic usage, always presented a personal character--that is to say, extended only to the people with whom they originated, and were not easily communicated to others. In fact, when, as a consequence of successive invasions, different Germanic tribes, whether independent of each other or in subjection one to another, came together in the same country, each of them continued to be governed by its own peculiar laws. The Romans, on the contrary, regarding their law as universal in character, communicated it to, and imposed it upon all. It was almost the first germ of the greatness and the civilisation of Rome, and for that reason its diffusion was considered the most sacred of duties by this sovereign people. Thus it was that, even under the harshest barbaric oppression, the Roman law continued to be the private law of the Italians in all those cases, and they were not few, in which the German laws failed to notice it, and neither abrogated it directly nor substituted another in its place.

But the presence of two diverse legislations, the one imposed by force, the other preserved by custom, the radical change of conditions occasioned by the destruction of the old Roman State and the formation of a new society, could not fail to originate a new life, a new history for the Italian law. In the statute books of our communes we find Roman and Longobard law confronted and almost contending, each modified in turn by the action of the other. But under which of the many forms through which it has passed is the Roman law found among us at the moment when it seemed on the point of being overcome by the Germanic law? Was it in the literary and philosophic form given to it by Justinian, or was it in the _pre_-Justinian form, which, while less systematic, was also less altered by Byzantine ideas, and more in accordance with usage? Savigny roundly asserts that the Pandects on their completion were at once sent into Italy, and that immediately after the power of the Goths had been shattered by the Greeks Justinian hastened to issue the Constitution (534), whereby legal effect was given to them in the land. In consequence of this, he continues, the Pandects were then to be met with in every corner of Italy, where they were at once received with favour, inasmuch as the Justinian law was specially adapted to the requirements of the land. This, he goes on to say, likewise explains why it was that all the earliest Italian commentators or glossators devoted themselves exclusively to the study of the _Corpus iuris_. The reader, however, may easily discover that, on this head, Savigny has pushed his inferences too far. More than once, indeed, he is compelled to put a false interpretation on documents that they may not contradict his theories; and more than once the documents themselves seem to warn him that, even in the Middle Ages, vestiges of a _pre_-Justinian law are to be traced; but he persists still more resolutely in considering all this to be only a survival of antiquated forms. Many new documents have recently been published, and the question again presents itself, always with the same urgency.

As a German writer, well versed in the subject, has recently observed, everything tends to show that the history of Roman law in the Middle Ages should be divided into two entirely distinct periods.[372] During the first it endured by force of custom, and accordingly many pre-Justinian formulas survived with it; in the second and much later period the Justinian law prevailed, promoted still further by the literary study of the Pandects undertaken by the Bolognese professors; it was only then that the most ancient formulas wholly disappeared. This view is supported by documentary evidence and harmonises with the character of the times and with the requirements of society, and is confirmed by our old writers and our literary traditions.

[_To face page 383._]

In fact, Savigny himself examines and recognises the full importance of the various sources of _pre_-Justinian law diffused in the Middle Ages. The code of Theodosius (438) which then possessed great authority, and the edict drawn up by order of Theodoric the Ostrogoth (500), were direct compilations of the old Roman Jurisprudence.

If in these compilations we turn our attention to the constitution of the family, more particularly as regards succession, we find it exactly as it was before the law was interwoven with the Imperial edicts.[373] The Breviary of Alaric ("Lex Romana Visigothorum") and the so-called _Papian_ code ("Lex Romana Burgundioram"), both posterior to the year 500, are likewise compilations of _pre_-Justinian law, and are found to be diffused in several provinces of the Empire. The often-mentioned "Lex Romana Utiniensis, seu Curiensis," which seems to be ninth century _rimpasto_ of Alaric's Breviary for the use of Italians in lands previously under Longobard rule, also shows the same characteristics. It is true that, according to the hypothesis of Savigny, the Breviary of Alaric must have been in use among the Franks and brought by them to Italy after the expulsion of the Longobards. In this case we should find the old law to have been in force among us only before and after the period of the Longobards; while during their oppressive rule we should discover no certain trace of it. But it is very difficult to suppose that the ancient law, based as it was upon custom, should have died out precisely when custom might have preserved it, or that Roman law should at that time have assumed the literary Justinian form and afterwards have returned to a form more primitive. Had the legislation of Justinian in its genuine form been once accepted, it must have continued to gain ground with the advance of civilisation and under the less severe rule of the Franks, whose mode of life approached much nearer to that of the Latins. The fact is, that throughout the Middle Ages we meet with pre-Justinian legal forms, more or less modified, even among the laws of the Longobards.[374] As to the remark that the earliest Italian commentators, the _glossators_, directed their studies to the Pandects and the whole of the _Corpus iuris_--this only shows that on the revival of the communes and of letters they turned, as was natural, to the most authoritative and literary source of jurisprudence. From that time, in fact, no other is looked for.[375]

[_To face page 384._]

It should also be remembered that, when the Greeks came into Italy to combat the Goths, they found the ancient Roman customary laws in force and sanctioned by the edict of Theodoric; that the Goths were definitely vanquished in 553; that in 568 the Greek domination was followed by that of the Longobards; that the latter confined their rivals to Southern Italy, whence they were afterwards expelled by the Normans. There, in the south, the corrupt Byzantine despotism proved no less fatal than the oppression of the barbarians, and was perhaps the prime cause of the many disasters and prolonged neglect into which those provinces afterwards fell. But was it possible for a dominion so brief and troubled to diffuse the law of Justinian in Italy with such effect as not only to make it universally accepted, but also so thoroughly incorporated with customary law, that it could survive even when its binding legal effect was no longer recognised by the barbarians?

Such an hypothesis will seem even less tenable as regards everything relating to the family and to succession, if we reflect that the reforms introduced into this branch of the law by Justinian at Constantinople in no way corresponded to the conditions in which Italy then stood. Notwithstanding the diffusion of Greek philosophy among us, the spirit of Byzantium was by no means identical with that of Rome, and there was still less identity in their social conditions. In Constantinople Oriental despotism corrupted, nay, suffocated society by excess of luxury and over-refinement of culture; the State assuming everything to itself, imparted a new character to the laws. In Italy, on the other hand, society, no less corrupt, had become disintegrated, and was already falling to pieces; the ancient unity and strength of the State were continually diminishing and losing strength, and less and less resistance was opposed to the assaults of the barbarians. At Constantinople the State was omnipotent, while in Italy its vigour was on the wane. Among us, accordingly women and all who were weak were naturally driven to seek refuge in private associations, and above all in the bosom of the family. And if the natural force of events had power to urge in any direction, and determine any new tendency, it certainly could not have aimed at enfeebling the family bond by subjecting it to the authority of a tottering State, but must rather have sought to strengthen it as the only possible safeguard amid the dangers that were threatening on every side. This, in fact, is the course always followed in barbaric societies, where, the State being powerless, the care of the weak and the punishment of injuries are entrusted to the kinsmen. In short, both the disordered condition of Latin society and the example of the barbarians themselves combined to offer grave obstacles to the diffusion of Justinian's laws, more especially when the old Roman customs were seen to be better suited to the new and increasing needs of society, and useful for the reconstruction, on a firmer basis, of the old family system, now become more essential than before to the common welfare. No other way was left for beginning anew the social task and advancing afterwards to new methods and institutions. Nor need we attach much importance to the constitution of the year 534, knowing how wide is the difference between the promulgation of a law (especially when it is passed by a short-lived and feeble Government in a society that is lapsing into disorder) and its actual enforcement and incorporation with custom. Even under the Roman Republic, or under the Empire, old laws did not at once disappear when new ones were proclaimed. Even in modern societies we may note how tenaciously ancient customs continue to be observed when they are more in harmony with the character and requirements of the people.

The principles of the Napoleonic code were proclaimed in our Southern provinces during the French domination and afterwards confirmed by subsequent legislation; and according to that code, every patrimony was bound to be divided equally among the children. Nevertheless, in the two Calabrias and many other Southern provinces, property is still kept undivided in the family, since, by common consent, only one of the sons marries, the others remaining single. For the same reason, the smallest possible sum is assigned to the daughters; nor do all of them marry, some being persuaded or forced to take the veil. Social progress alone will slowly give real effect to the principles of equality sanctioned by the codes.

Everything therefore points to the conclusion that Roman law survived among us to the downfall of the Western Empire, preserving by usage many of the forms that had belonged to it before the compilation of the _Corpus iuris_. While in this state it came into contact with the Germanic code, and thereupon began the series of mutual alterations, from which the Italian family emerged, reconstituted in a totally new way, and together with it the Commune. It was a slow transformation, during which Latin ideas and traditions steadily gained ground, and gradually fused or destroyed the barbarian laws and institutions. When communal liberties were finally proclaimed, a new culture was inaugurated, and with it a new epoch in the history of Roman law. The university of Bologna became the centre for the diffusion and study of the Pandects, and the _Corpus iuris_ became speedily regarded as the primary and perennial source of common law in our country. The tradition, according to which the Pandects of Amalfi, carried off by the Pisans, were by them discovered and made known for the first time to the Western world, dates this event about the year 1135, that is to say in the same age that witnessed the rise of the communes, and in which, as related by another tradition, Guarnerius founded the Bolognese school at the request of Countess Matilda.[376] Thus our conclusions are supported alike by history, legend, and logic.

VI.

In Italy, therefore, at the beginning of the Middle Ages, the family accorded a preference to the agnates, and, in consequence of the continuous weakening of the State, was obliged to seek in itself for increased strength. The inroads of the barbarians brought with them a different constitution of the family, but this could effect no great change in our own family system until the Longobards had firmly established their dominion over us. There then began a great change in the social condition of Italy, which was forcibly compelled to assume a form more or less barbaric. Hence it concerns us to study the Longobard family system, that we may see how far and in what way it could thus alter ours.

[_To face page 388._]

Like every other barbaric society, that of the Longobards was founded upon force; in time of war it was compactly united under a king; during peace it split into groups, from want of vigour in the central authority, and from the excessive independence of subordinate chiefs. Hardly had barbarian kingdoms begun to be erected in the West with a certain degree of stability, than we find them subdividing into marquisates, dukedoms, separate groups, and at a later period into feudal holdings. If we look to the primitive conditions of these barbarians before they come among us, we find them scattered over the country, without any city properly so-called, and with no true conception of the State, which for them seems to consist in a confederation of secondary groups. The social unity of the barbarians is to be found in the villages or even in the tribes, which are societies originally derived perhaps from a single family. Everywhere the State assumes family forms. The social strength of the Germans is more manifest in the lesser groups, and consequently in the family. We ought not to be surprised, therefore, at finding the family constituted more solidly with them than among the Latins, who now, for many centuries, had been altering and modifying it under the growing pressure of State control.