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.

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