labour-question, from the end of the second Punic war to the time of
Marcus Aurelius, it is not necessary to refer to every indication of the
discontents that were normal in the miserable slave-gangs. A few actual
outbreaks of which we have definite records will serve to illustrate the
sort of sleeping volcano, ever liable to explode, on which thousands of
Italian landlords were sitting. The writers on agriculture were fully
conscious of the peril, and among various precepts designed to promote
order (and, so far as possible, contentment) none is more significant
than the advice[646] not to have too many slaves of the same race.
Dictated by the desire to make rebellious combinations difficult, this
advice is at least as old as Plato[647] and Aristotle.
So early as 196 BC we hear[648] of a slave-rising in Etruria, put down
with great severity by a military force. In 185 there was a great
rising[649] of slave-herdsmen (_pastores_) in Apulia, put down by the
officer then commanding the SE district. In about another half-century
we begin the series of slave-wars which troubled the Roman world for
some 60 or 70 years and caused a vast destruction of lives and property.
It was the growth of the plantation system under a weak and distracted
government that made such horrors possible. In 139 we hear of a rising
in Sicily, where the plantation system was in full swing. From 135 there
was fierce war[650] in the island, not put down till 131 after fearful
bloodshed. The war of Aristonicus[651] in the new province of Asia, from
132 to 130, seems to have been essentially a slave-war. In Sicily the
old story[652] was repeated 103-99 with the same phenomena and results.
And in the last age of the Republic, 73 to 71 BC, Italy was devastated
by the bands of Spartacus, a joint force of gladiators[653] and rustic
slaves. For many months the country was at their mercy, and their final
destruction was brought about more by their own disunion than by the
sword of Roman legions. It is recorded[654] to the credit of Catiline
that he refused to enlist rustic slaves in the armed force with which
he fought and fell at Pistoria, resisting the less scrupulous advice of
his confederates in Rome. During the upheaval of the great civil wars
the slaves enjoyed unusual license. Many took arms: probably many others
escaped from bondage. But the establishment of the Empire, though the
supply of slave labour was not equal to the demand, did not put an end to
slave-risings. For instance, in 24 AD a former soldier of the Imperial
Guard planned an insurrection[655] in the neighbourhood of Brundisium. By
promising freedom to the bold slave-herdsmen scattered about the Apennine
forests he got together what was evidently a force of considerable
strength. The lucky arrival of a squadron of patrol vessels enabled the
local quaestor to break up the conspiracy before it could make head. But
Tiberius did not dally with so serious a matter: a detachment of troops
carried off the ringleader and his chief accomplices to Rome. Tacitus
remarks that there was in the city a widespread uneasiness, owing to
the enormous growth of slave-gangs while the freeborn population was
declining.
These specimens are enough to illustrate a public danger obvious _a
priori_ and hardly needing illustration. The letter of Tiberius[656] to
the Senate in 22 AD shews how he had brooded over the social and economic
condition of Italy. He saw clearly that the appearance of prosperity in
a country where parks and mansions multiplied, and where tillage was
still giving way to pasturage, was unsound. He knew no doubt that these
signs pointed to the decline of the free rural population as still in
progress. As an experienced general he could hardly ignore the value
of such a free population for recruiting armies to serve the state, or
regard its decline with indifference. He refers to the burden of imperial
responsibilities. Now the system inherited from Augustus set Italy in a
privileged position as the imperial land. Surely Tiberius cannot have
overlooked the corresponding liability of Italy to take a full share in
the defence of the empire. Yet in present circumstances her supply of
vigorous manhood was visibly failing. If the present tendencies continued
to act, the present system would inevitably break down. But, however much
Tiberius was inclined to do justice to the Provinces, he could not escape
his first duty to Italy without a complete change of system: and for this
he was not prepared. Such misgivings of course could not be expressed in
a letter to the Senate; but that an Emperor, temperamentally prone to
worry, did not foresee the coming debility and degradation of Italy, and
fret over the prospect, is to me quite incredible.
The movement for checking luxury, which drew this letter from Tiberius,
resulted according to Tacitus in a temporary reduction of extravagance in
entertainments. The influence of senators brought in from country towns
or the Provinces helped in promoting a simpler life. It was example,
not legislation, that effected whatever improvement was made. It was
the example of Vespasian that did most to reform domestic economy. But
the historian was well aware that reforms depending on the lead of
individuals are transient. We have no reason to believe that any lasting
improvement of agriculture was produced by these fitful efforts. From
stray references in Tacitus, from the letters of the younger Pliny, from
notices in Juvenal and Martial, it is evident that in the great plain
of the Cisalpine and in the Italian hill country farming of one kind or
another went on and prospered. In such districts a real country life
might be found. But this was no new development: it had never ceased. Two
conditions were necessary, remoteness from Rome and difficulty of access,
which often coincided. Estates near the city (_suburbana_) were mostly,
if not in all cases, held as resorts for rest or pleasure. If a steward
could grow a fair supply of farm-produce, so much the better: but the
duty of having all ready for visits of the master and his friends was
the first charge on his time and attention. Even at some considerable
distance from the city the same condition prevailed, if an estate lay
near a main road and thus could be reached without inconvenient exertion.
XXIII. CATO.
The book _de agri cultura_[657] of =M Porcius Cato= (234-149 BC) is a
remarkable work by a remarkable man. It is generally agreed that it
represents his views, though the form in which it has come down to us
has led to differences of opinion as to the degree in which the language
has been modified in transmission. We need only consider some of the
contemporary facts and movements with which Cato was brought into contact
and which affected his mental attitude as a public man. He took part
in the second Punic war, and died just as the third war was beginning:
thus he missed seeing the destruction of the great city which it had
in his later years been his passion to destroy. The success of the
highly organized Punic agriculture is said[658] to have been one of the
circumstances that alarmed his keen jealousy: but we can hardly doubt
that he like others got many a hint from the rustic system of Carthage.
Another of his antagonisms was a stubborn opposition to Greek influences.
In the first half of the second century BC, the time of his chief
activities, these influences were penetrating Roman society more and
more deeply as Roman supremacy spread further and further to the East.
We need not dwell on his denunciations of Greek corruption in general
and warnings against the menace to Roman thrift and simplicity. A good
instance may be found in the injunction[659] to his son, to have nothing
whatever to do with Greek doctors, a pack of rascals who mean to poison
all ‘barbarians,’ who charge fees to enhance the value of their services,
and have the impudence to apply the term ‘barbarians’ to us. The leader
of the good-old-Roman party was at least thorough in his hates. And his
antipathies were not confined to foreigners and foreign ways, but found
ample scope at home in opposition to the newer school of politicians,
whose views were less narrow and hearty than his own.
In Cato’s time the formation of great landed estates, made easy by the
ruin of many peasant farmers in the second Punic war, was in full
swing. The effective government of Rome was passing more and more into
the hands of the Senate, and the leading nobles did not neglect their
opportunities of adding to their own wealth and power. Sharing the
military appointments, they enriched themselves with booty and blackmail
abroad, particularly in the eastern wars: and, being by law excluded from
open participation in commerce, they invested a good part of their gains
in Italian land. From what we learn as to the stale of Italy during the
last century of the Republic, it seems certain that this land-grabbing
process took place chiefly if not wholly in the more accessible parts
of the country, so far as arable lands were concerned. Etruria and the
districts of central Italy near Rome were especially affected, and also
Lucania. Apulia soon became noted for its flocks and herds, which grazed
there in winter and were driven in the summer months to the mountain
pastures of Samnium. The pasturage of great private ‘runs’ (_saltus_) was
thus supplemented by the use of wastes that were still state-property,
and the tendency to monopolize these latter on favourable terms was no
doubt still growing. With the troubles that arose later out of this
system of _possessiones_ we are not here concerned. But the increase
of grazing as compared with tillage is an important point; for that
it was the most paying sort of farming was one of the facts expressly
recognised[660] by Cato. The working of estates on a large scale was
promoted by the plentiful supply of slaves in this period. On arable
lands they were now employed in large gangs, sometimes working in chains,
under slave overseers whose own privileges depended on their getting the
utmost labour out of the common hands. In pastoral districts they enjoyed
much greater freedom. The time was to come when these _pastores_, hardy
ruffians, often armed against wild beasts, would be a public danger. But
for the present it is probable that one of their chief recommendations
was that they cost next to nothing for their keep.
No man knew better than Cato that it was not on such a land-system
as this that Rome had thriven in the past and risen to her present
greatness. He was proud[661] of having worked hard with his own hands in
youth, and he kept up the practice of simple living on his own estate,
sitting down to meals with the slaves[662] whom he ruled with the
strictness of a practical farmer. Around him was going on the extension
of great ill-managed properties owned by men whom political business and
intrigues kept nearly all the year in Rome, and who gave little personal
attention to the farming of their estates. When the landlord rebuilt
his _villa_, and used his new country mansion mainly for entertaining
friends, the real charge of the farm more and more passed to the
plausible slave who was always on the spot as steward. Cato knew very
well that these _vilici_ did not as a rule do the best for their lords.
They had no real interest in getting the most out of the land. The owner,
who wanted ready money for his ambitions and pleasures, was hardly the
man to spend it on material improvements in hope of an eventual increase
of income: thus a steward could easily find excuses for a low standard
of production really due to his own slackness. All this demoralizing
letting-down of agriculture was anathema to the champion of old-Roman
ideas and traditions. It was a grave factor in the luxury and effeminacy
that to his alarm were undermining the solid virtues of the Roman people.
Above all things, it had what to his intensely Roman nature was the
most fatal of defects—it did not pay. Roman nobles were in fact making
their chief profits out of plundering abroad, and ceasing to exercise
old-fashioned economy at home. With the former evil Cato waged open war
as statesman and orator. How he dealt with the latter as a writer on
agriculture I proceed to inquire.
We may classify the several points of view from which agriculture could
be regarded under a few heads, and see what position in relation to
each of these was taken up by Cato. First, as to the scale of farming
operations. He does not denounce great estates. He insists on the
maintenance of a due proportion[663] between the house and the land.
Neither is to be too big for the other. A decent dwelling[664] will
induce the landlord to visit his estate more often; a fine mansion will
be costly and tempt him to extravagance. Secondly, it is on this frequent
personal attention that successful management depends. For your steward
needs the presence of the master’s eye to keep him to his duty. Thirdly,
he accepts the position that the regular staff of labourers are to be
slaves, and some at least of these[665] are in chains (_compediti_). For
special work, in time of harvest etc, extra labour is to be hired, and
of this some is free labour, perhaps not all. For contractors employing
gangs of labourers play a considerable part. Their remuneration may be
in cash, or they may receive a share[666] of the produce (_partiario_).
Some of their labourers are certainly free: if they do not pay the wages
regularly, the _dominus_ is to pay them and recover from the contractor.
But it is not clear that contractors employed freemen exclusively, and
there is some indication[667] of the contrary. Fourthly, there is no
suggestion of a return to quite small peasant holdings, though he opens
the treatise with an edifying passage[668] on the social political and
military virtues of farmers, and cites the traditional description of
_virum bonum_ as being _bonum agricolam bonumque colonum_. For his own
scheme is not one for enabling a poor man to win a living for himself
and family out of a little patch of ground. It is farming for profit;
and, though not designed for a big _latifundium_, it is on a considerable
scale. He contemplates[669] an oliveyard of 240 _iugera_ and a vineyard
of 100 _iugera_, not to mention all the other departments, and the rigid
precepts for preventing waste and getting the most out of everything
are the most striking feature of his book. The first business[670] of
an owner, he says, is not to buy but to sell. Fifthly, it is important
to notice that he does not suggest letting all or part of the estate to
tenants. He starts by giving good advice as to the pains and caution[671]
needed in buying a landed property. But, once bought, he assumes that
the buyer will keep it in hand and farm it for his own account. It has
been said on high authority[672] that the plan of letting farms to
tenant _coloni_ was ‘as old as Italy.’ I do not venture to deny this.
But my inquiry leads me to the conviction that in early times such an
arrangement was extremely rare: the granting of a plot of land during
pleasure (_precario_) by a patron to a client was a very different
thing. Cato only uses the word[673] _colonus_ in the general sense of
_cultivator_, and so far as he is concerned we should never guess that
free tenant farmers were known in Italy. Sixthly, whereas in Varro
and Columella we find the influence of later Greek thought shewn in a
desire to treat even rustic slaves as human and to appeal to the lure
of reward rather than the fear of punishment, to Cato the human chattel
seems on the level of the ox. When past work, both ox and slave are to
be sold[674] for what they will fetch. This he himself says, and his
doctrine was duly recorded by Plutarch as a mark of his hard character.
It is therefore not surprising that he makes no reference to slaves
having any quasi-property (_peculium_) of their own, though the custom of
allowing this privilege was surely well known to him, and was probably
very ancient. If the final fate of the slave was to be sold as rubbish
in order to save his keep, there was not much point in letting him keep
a few fowls or grow a few vegetables in some waste corner of the farm.
But another characteristic story raises some doubt in this matter. We are
told that, having remarked that sexual passion was generally the cause of
slaves getting into mischief, he allowed them[675] to have intercourse
with the female slaves at a fixed tariff. Now, to afford himself this
indulgence, a slave must have had a _peculium_. But Cato did not think it
worth mentioning,—unless of course we assume that a reference has dropped
out of the text. Nor does he refer to manumission: but we hear of his
having a freedman—probably not a farm-slave at all.
Cato’s position, taken as a whole, shews no sign of a reactionary aim,
no uncompromising desire of reversion to a vanished past. Nor does he
fall in with the latest fashion, and treat the huge _latifundium_ as
the last word in landowning. His precepts have in view a fairly large
estate, and perhaps we may infer that he thought this about as much
as a noble landlord, with other calls upon his energies, could farm
through a steward without losing effective control. He does not, like the
Carthaginian Mago, insist on the landlord residing[676] permanently on
the estate. In truth he writes as an opportunist. For this man, who won
his fame as the severest critic of his own times, knew very well that
contemporary Romans of good station and property would never consent
to abdicate their part in public life and settle down to merely rustic
interests. Nor indeed would such retirement have been consistent with
Roman traditions. But conditions had greatly changed since the days of
the farmer-nobles who could easily attend the Senate or Assembly at short
notice. The far greater extent of territory over which modern estates
were spread made it impossible to assume that they all lay near the city.
And yet the attraction of Rome was greater than ever. It was the centre
and head of a dominion already great, and in Cato’s day ever growing. The
great critic might declaim against the methods and effects of this or
that particular conquest and denounce the iniquities of Roman officials:
but he himself bore no light hand in advancing the power of Rome, and
thereby in making Rome the focus of the intrigues and ambitions of the
Mediterranean world. So he accepted the land-system of the new age, and
with it the great extension of slave-labour and slave-management, and
tried to shew by what devotion and under what conditions it could be
made to pay. It must be borne in mind that slave-labour on the land was
no new thing. It was there from time immemorial, ready for organization
on a large scale; and it was this extension of an existing institution
that was new. Agriculture had once been to the ordinary Roman citizen
the means of livelihood. It was now, in great part of the most strictly
Roman districts of Italy, becoming industrialized as a field for
investment of capital by the senatorial class, who practically controlled
the government and were debarred from openly engaging in commerce. The
exploitation of rustic properties as income-producing securities was
merely a new phase of the grasping hard-fisted greed characteristic of
the average Roman. Polybius, observing Roman life in this very age with
Greek eyes, was deeply impressed[677] by this almost universal quality.
And Cato himself was a Roman of Romans. Plutarch[678] has preserved for
us the tradition of his economic career. As a young man of small means
he led the hard life of a farmer, as he was not shy of boasting[679]
in later years, and was a strict master of slaves. But he did not find
farming sufficiently remunerative, so he embarked on other enterprises.
Farming remained rather as a pastime than a source of income: but he took
to safe and steady investments, such as rights over lakes, hot springs,
fullers’ premises, and land that could be turned to profit[680] through
the presence of natural pasture and woodland. From these properties he
drew large returns not dependent on the weather. By employing a freedman
as his agent, he lent money on bottomry, eluding the legal restriction
on senators; and by combining with partners in the transaction he
distributed and so minimized the risks of a most profitable business. And
all through life he dealt in slaves[681], buying them young, training
them, and selling at an enhanced price any that he did not want himself.
He bred some on his estate, probably not many. It is said that, in
addition to her own children, his wife would suckle[682] slave-babies, as
a means of promoting good feeling in the household towards her son.
In these details, of the general truth of which there is no reasonable
doubt, we have a picture of a man of astounding versatility and force:
for of his political and military activities I have said nothing. But
as a writer on agriculture how are we to regard him? Surely not as a
thoroughgoing reformer. His experience had taught him that, if you must
have a good income (a point on which he and his contemporaries were
agreed), you had better not look to get it from farming. But if for
land-pride or other reasons you must needs farm, Cato is ready to give
you the best practical advice. That many (if indeed any) men of property
would take the infinite trouble and pains that his system requires from
a landlord, he was probably too wise to believe. But that was their
business. He spoke[683] as an oracle; as in public life ‘take it or leave
it’ was the spirit of his utterances. The evidence of his life and of
his book, taken together, is more clear as shewing the unsatisfactory
position of rustic enterprise than from any other point of view.
A few details relative to the staff employed on the estate are worthy
of a brief notice. Cato is keenly alive to the importance of the
labour-question. In choosing an estate you must ascertain that there is a
sufficient local supply[684] of labour. On the face of it this seems to
mean free wage-earning labour, though the word _operarius_ is neutral.
But in a notable passage, in which he sets forth the advantage of being
on friendly terms with neighbours (neighbouring landlords), he says
‘Don’t let your household (_familiam_) do damage: if you are in favour
with the neighbourhood, you will find it easier to sell your stock,
easier[685] to get employment for your own staff at a wage, easier to
hire hands: and if you are engaged in building they (the _vicini_) will
give you help in the way of human and animal labour and timber.’ Here we
seem to come upon the hiring, not of free labourers, but of a neighbour’s
slave hands on payment of a rent to their owner. The case would arise
only when some special rough job called for a temporary supply of more
labour. It would be the landlord’s interest to keep his neighbours
inclined to oblige him. Thus by mutual accommodation in times of pressure
it was possible to do with a less total of slaves than if each farm had
had to be provided with enough labour for emergencies. We may also remark
that it made the slaveowner less dependent on free wage-earners, who
would probably have raised their demands when they saw the landlord at
their mercy. It must always be borne in mind that Cato is writing solely
from the landlord’s point of view.