The political student has to approach the subject without prejudice,

and investigate all the consequences and accompaniments of slavery,

not only some of them. It is further necessary in dealing with such

a question to discount the antipathy to pain and discomfort which

is so marked a feature of modern life. Granted that under certain

circumstances slavery resulted in a vast amount of hideous suffering,

still slavery was not the only condition in ancient life, or mediaeval

life, or even modern life, that has resulted in suffering. Wherever a

man finds himself in an irresponsible position towards a number of his

fellow creatures, wherever a society or the rulers of a society live in

terror of any section of that society whether slave or free, there is

always the probability of great cruelty. If all the pain and sorrows

of humanity from the beginning of time until now could be reckoned up

and estimated, and assigned to their various causes, it is questionable

whether slavery would show the blackest record.

Antiquity has left us some notorious instances of cruelty to domestic

slaves, and the stories of a few sensational cases have been preserved;

but even the English domestic servant in Christian London in the

nineteenth century is exposed to cruelty, and if the records of our law

courts survive, posterity on the evidence of a few exceptional cases

will be able to pass a stern sentence upon English men and women of

today. Could we estimate all the pains of all the operatives in modern

England, all the lives that are shortened, or rendered intolerable by

disordered health, could we arrive at a clear understanding of all

that is suffered by puddlers in iron foundries, by stokers on our

great ships, by men and women employed in lead works, in brick works,

in chemical works, in numberless other dangerous industries, we might

well pause before condemning slavery as the one social condition

predominantly productive of human suffering. True, the modern operative

is free, but free to do or to be what? The chain is there; it is only a

different kind of chain.

When St. Paul travelled from Puteoli to Rome, he passed through a

country in which a form of slavery was universal, which is commonly

held to have been the cruellest known to Italy; he passed by the

barracks of the agricultural slaves, and the conditions of travelling

were such as to give him every opportunity of making observations;

he lived certainly for two years after this date, and possibly much

longer, but he nowhere lifts up his voice against slavery in general,

or even this particular form of slavery. Not long before St. Paul made

this journey, it had been necessary to inspect the slave barracks in

the same part of Italy, because free men had acquired the habit of

adopting servitude in order to escape military service.

In fact that picture of antique slavery which represents it as a

scene of whippings and tortures, of rapes and murders, of humiliating

or disgusting services exacted by one man from another, and as the

exclusive condition under which such things occur, is a false picture.

The importance of slavery as a factor in the life of the ancients does

not in fact depend so much upon its moral influence upon individuals as

upon its political consequences, which were many and far-reaching in

their effects.

The condition of slavery in the ancient world did not in itself involve

the same measure of personal degradation with which it is associated in

these days; it was only one of many inequalities recognized by society.

If a slave could not appear in the law courts of Rome, no more could

the resident alien, however rich, however noble in the city from which

he came; if the slave could not hold real property, no more could the

sons of his master; if he could under certain conditions only acquire

personal property, his master’s son was similarly disqualified; the

ceremony by which each acquired freedom was the same; neither could

make a will, nor work entirely for his own profit; both were included

in the family; the domestic disqualifications under which the slave

lived were common to him and the children of the house; the political

disqualifications he shared with the free citizens of any community not

expressly recognized under treaty by the inhabitants of the community

in which he lived. Ancient society never contemplated individual

independence as the fundamental condition of human existence; it

was based on the contrary theory, that individual independence was

the exception, and the privilege of the few; only gradually, and

as the consequence of established law and habitual order rendering

personal security possible for the mean man without the intervention

of a powerful protector, did the modern conception of the rights and

obligations of the individual human being grow up; and in its perfect

development the conception has only very recently been realized.

The slave and his master might be, and commonly were, members of the

same race; if they were of different races, the slave might be a more

highly civilized man than his master, better educated, more capable in

many respects; there were hordes of slaves drawn from less civilized

races, and even from savage races, and the work which fell to their

share tended to be menial or arduous according to their unfitness for

work demanding previous training; but the fact that the slave was by

no means universally of an inferior type of humanity to his owner,

and frequently quite the reverse, put slavery as an institution on a

totally different footing from that which it has held in modern times.

Again, if the slave had to suffer from political disqualifications,

he had corresponding immunities; for one thing, he was exempt from

military service. One very important consequence of this aspect of

slavery was the restriction of the field from which recruits could be

drawn for armies; it would perhaps be an exaggeration to say that the

whole of the industrial population of antiquity was not available for

military purposes, but the statement is somewhere near the truth; and

from this followed a further consequence, which eventually helped to

break up the Empire, viz., that the armies were increasingly recruited

from the populations on the confines of the Empire, and ceased to be

Italian. First Gaul, Spain and Illyria, and Thrace, then the Teutons

from Central Europe, sent free recruits to the Roman armies, till

the time came when the less civilized military element threw off

the traditions of the civil government, and society returned to the

conditions which had prevailed before the Roman Empire inaugurated

the reign of peace. Agricultural slavery in Italy is sometimes said

to have been the cause of the depletion of the Roman armies; ancient

authors complain that the hardy breed of peasants from the central

hills of Italy disappeared, and that, because their place had been

taken by slaves, the recruiting grounds were barren of the right

kind of population. The real state of the case was the reverse: the

Roman wars had exhausted the Roman free population, which was then

replaced by slaves. Between the end of the second Punic War and Cæsar’s

campaigns in Gaul, Rome had been continuously draining Italy of her

free population; it was inevitable that the sons of the small farmer

should be replaced by slaves, and that eventually small farms should be

merged in large holdings, and that the slave barrack should stand alone

where the scattered homesteads of the peasant proprietor had adorned

the landscape.

Two forms of slavery in antiquity have almost monopolized the attention

of most writers on the subject--domestic slavery and agricultural

slavery; both lend themselves to sensational treatment; but along with

these there was industrial slavery in all its forms; where we have free

artisans, antiquity had slaves; and it is questionable whether the

slaves employed by a great manufacturing firm in antiquity were less

well off than the mill hands of a Lancashire town of today; in many

industries they were possibly better off than the class of operatives

who are “sweated” in East London; the slave of antiquity was at least

provided with the necessaries of life by his employer. It is true that

the slave operative could be bought and sold and even mortgaged; he

could be bequeathed by will, but these mischances commonly happened to

him collectively, and no more affected him individually than a change

of owners affects the men working in an English manufactory; indeed,

the slave had an advantage over the free artisan; he was part of the

capital, his value was relatively greater, he occupied the place now

taken by the machinery. A body of well trained, well organized slaves

stood in much the same relation to capital in ancient times as the

plant of a manufactory to the modern capitalist; and a new owner would

no more have thought of disbanding or disabling the slaves employed

in a publishing establishment, or brick works, than a modern owner

would break up the machines in a cotton mill which he had acquired.

When we read of the enormous number of slaves owned by some ancient

millionaire, we must not think of butlers and grooms and footmen,

but of clerks and “hands”; where we now say that such and such a

capitalist employs so many thousand men, the ancients said that he

owned so many thousand slaves.

The slave could earn money for himself, and we can see through the

minute regulations of the codes as to the conditions under which he

could earn and hold money, a recognition of the fact that a man’s

free labour is generally more effective than his forced labour; the

slave’s opportunity of earning put him, as we should now say, upon

piece work; he earned so much for his master, so much for himself;

his master gave him the advantages of organization, of capital, of a

commercial reputation, and for these he paid in a proportion fixed from

time to time by legislation, keeping the remainder of his earnings;

that he paid more highly for these advantages than the present value

of money, and the general security of society would render equitable,

is quite true; but then the whole scale of interest on capital was

far higher than it is now. The slave who traded, as he often did,

with his master’s capital, paid less for its use than the interest

which would have been demanded of a stranger. We must not think of the

“peculium,” the slave’s private earnings, as we may think of the purse

accumulated by a modern domestic servant from gratuities and other

sources of private revenue, but as a real wage earned even by a slave.

The regulations which still bound the enfranchized slave to his master

in the new relation of patron seem at first sight harsh, the liberty in

reference to the former master remaining incomplete, but their aspect

changes when we reflect that they rendered manumission more easy, and

that the slave’s opportunities of earning money both before and after

manumission were made for him by his connexion with his master. The

proprietor of a large business might have every feeling of kindliness

and consideration for a trusted slave, who managed some department

of that business, but he might think twice before rewarding him with

his liberty, if that act involved not only the loss of the slave’s

services, but the creation of a commercial competitor.

Much has been written in condemnation of Roman agricultural slavery,

and justly so, if the agricultural slave was dealt with in the spirit

of the elder Cato; but here again we must be careful to distinguish.

The ergastula, the slave barracks, did not account for all the

agricultural slaves, and in the later days of Augustus the ergastula

were preferred by free men to military service; nor can the system of

the ergastula have been as rigorous in practice as in theory; the two

great servile insurrections which proved so serious a danger to Rome

could not have assumed such alarming dimensions, had not the slaves

who organized them been in possession of means of communication. Nor

must it be forgotten that there were many slaves who would now be

convicts, many who had been sold into slavery from a conquered country,

never having known any other condition of life. The ancients did not

often make the mistake of setting a delicately nurtured man to hard

menial labour, for his value in that capacity was small; similarly the

increasing difficulty of finding slaves after Rome ceased to extend her

conquests increased the value even of navvies, and their condition was

improved by the exigencies of sound economy; even a Cato, when slaves

were dear, took care not to wear them out before their time. Though a

slave was not protected except by public opinion against his master,

who might beat and even kill him, he was protected against all other

men, who could not injure him without incurring damages for wanton

destruction of another man’s property. There were cruel savage men

among the ancients as there are among the moderns, but on the whole the

servile condition does not seem to have been abused. Roman masters and

even mistresses occasionally beat their slaves, but vapulation was a

constant feature of human existence till a very few years ago even in

Europe. Shakespeare’s masters frequently strike their servants; that

worthy though foolish citizen, M. Jourdain, after frequent threats and

much aggravation, slapped his maidservant on the face; the use of the

stick is not an exclusive prerogative of the slave owner.

The more domestic of the Latin authors, such as Cicero and Horace, do

not give us a disagreeable picture of slavery; the relations between

slaves and masters in their day seem to have been in every respect as

pleasant as those between employers and servants in these days; and the

taunt of servile origin so frequent in the Classics amounts to little

more than the taunt of connexion with trade so common in some circles

in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. In fact the frequency

of this disparagement tends to prove that it was easy to rise from the

servile condition to positions of great wealth, and even political

influence. The two vulgar rich men in the Satyricon of Petronius,

Trimalchio and Habinna, had both been slaves; and the latter is made

to say that he had become a slave voluntarily, as that was the easiest

method of becoming a Roman citizen; this may be wilful exaggeration on

the part of Petronius for a satirical purpose; but it would have no

point if it did not carry a certain element of truth. Pallas and his

brother Felix, the freedmen of the Emperor Claudius, were, the former

practically Prime Minister, the latter Procurator of Judæa; numerous

similar instances show that a man might have been a slave and yet rise

to high office; the intermediate step seems generally to have been

through the Equestrian Order--in one of its aspects, as we have seen,

the financial department of the Civil Service.

This introduces us to another feature of slavery as practised in

antiquity, viz. its cosmopolitan influence, which was at work in every

class of society, but in the highest class most of all; nothing else

so effectually broke down the barrier between the Greek and the Roman,

between the Eastern and Western half of the Mediterranean, between

North and South.

War in ancient times had many of the aspects of a speculation, and

among the profits of war the sale of captives was reckoned; the

conquered had no rights against the conqueror except under special

terms. When the victim was a civilized State, the free men who were

thus sold into slavery had the opportunity of buying back their own

freedom; they practically paid a ransom; the transaction was a rough

and ready and efficacious method of exacting an indemnity. There

would be a certain proportion who could not pay the indemnity, and

these became slaves, but in their new status they were not wasted

on unprofitable occupations; the philosopher, the physician, the

accountant, the merchant, continued their various occupations in the

service of their master, and if they proved their efficiency rapidly

passed through the stage of slavery to that of freedmen.

Of the twenty famous schoolmasters whom Suetonius honours with short

biographies, three only were certainly not freedmen, Orbilius, the

teacher of Horace, Pomponius Marcellus, and a certain Valerius Probus,

who hailed from Beyrout, and must have been himself free, whatever his

parentage, as he began life with the endeavour to get a centurion’s

commission; fifteen were certainly freedmen, and two probably. Their

nationalities are strangely varied; three were certainly Italians,

three others possibly, two were Syrians, if we so class Probus, three

Gauls, one Spaniard, one Illyrian, six certainly Greek, and one

probably. Of the three Gauls, one, M. Antonius Gnipho, gave lessons

first in the house of Julius Cæsar during the latter’s boyhood; he was

a man of exceptional intellectual brilliance and generous character.

Suetonius does not state that Gnipho actually taught Cæsar, though the

inference suggests itself, and in any case the youthful Cæsar must

have known him, and have received impressions, if not information,

which may have influenced the future conqueror of Gaul. These men

were for the most part highly respected and made large professional

incomes; they taught either in houses of their own, or by special

arrangement in the houses of their patrons; one of them, M. Verrius

Flaccus, taught on these terms the grandchildren of Augustus, who paid

him a handsome annual stipend on condition that he only admitted such

pupils to his classes as were approved of by his employer; he had

previously taught independently; a statue was erected to his memory at

Præneste; this indicates that in spite of his servile origin he was

held in high honour. Horace must have known Verrius Flaccus, even if he

were not actually a relative, and Horace’s allusion to the persuasive

schoolmasters, who coax children to learn the elements by giving them

biscuits, suggests a well known trait of this Verrius Flaccus, who was

the first schoolmaster to offer prizes, “some ancient book handsome

or scarce,” says Suetonius. It is interesting to note that the most

fashionable of these schoolmasters, and the one who made the largest

fortune, was a man who, in the opinion of the Emperors Tiberius and

Claudius, both good judges, was totally unfit to be entrusted with the

charge of youth; while the one of whom it is recorded that in his old

age he sank into extreme poverty is Horace’s old friend, the freeborn

Italian Orbilius. This man also was honoured with a statue.

The proportion of men of servile origin in this one profession was

very large, if we may infer that the short list given by Suetonius

of its leaders indicates conditions which prevailed through the rank

and file; nor was it held in special disrepute. Tacitus mentions a

schoolmaster not included in this list who became a Senator; another,

M. Pomponius Marcellus, was admitted to the inner council of Tiberius,

and anticipated the “supra grammaticam” episode of a much later age; he

reproved the Emperor for a solecism in the wording of a decree, telling

him, “You can give the citizenship to men, Cæsar, but not to a word.”

Men who had been freeborn in their native countries, but had passed

into servitude by fortune of war, found new and wider careers open to

them in the service of their conquerors; they obtained access to the

masters of the world, and were able to direct their thoughts to new

channels, and directly influence their policy; they were further able

to push the fortunes of their relatives and connexions at home; for as

freedmen, and even as slaves, they were not cut off from correspondence

with the countries which they had left.

Their influence, great as it was in breaking down the intellectual

barriers between Rome and her allies and subjects, and in forming

the conception of a world-wide empire, was even greater in the world

of finance. Even the great Cæsar failed to throw open the Roman

Senate to the civilized world, and admission to that body continued

to be jealously guarded, in spite of occasional exceptions, till the

Senate had been practically superseded by the Imperial Household; but

admission to the Equestrian Order was a relatively easy matter; no

sanctity attached to the Order, no historic glamour; and a skilled

financier found his way into its ranks with comparative ease. Roman

bankers such as Cicero’s friend Atticus, needed the assistance of

clever Jews and Greeks, for Roman money was invested privately as well

as publicly in all parts of the Empire; municipal securities, then as

now, were a favourite investment; cities and colonies were in the habit

of borrowing money for local improvements; the knowledge possessed by

men, who had been acquainted with the local and personal conditions was

a valuable commodity; and any Roman, who aspired to play a great part

in the financial world, drew into his service men from all parts of the

Empire; these men were not infrequently rewarded by admission to the

Equestrian Order; some of them were free men, the majority were slaves

to begin with. The process was so common that the term “Libertus” is

used much in the same way as we employ the terms “agent,” or “man of

business.” Not the least important consequence of the system was the

admission of the Jews to a share in the control of administration;

“they of Cæsar’s Household” were not domestic servants, but financial

secretaries of considerable importance.

Slavery has been reproached with being responsible for the horrors

of the arena, and a general indifference to the sanctity of human

life; but this love of spectacular bloodshed, this indifference to

the sufferings and death of human beings and animals, is by no means

an exclusive feature of societies in which slavery is an accepted

institution. Bull fights are being extended at the present day from

Spain to France; bull baiting, bear baiting, badger baiting, prize

fighting, cock fighting, were accepted amusements in England till the

beginning of the present century, some of them are not unknown to our

contemporaries; nor is it easy to distinguish that delight in the

sufferings of condemned criminals, or in the encounters between trained

combatants, which filled the Roman amphitheatres, from the excitement

which drew crowds to look on at the merciless tortures and executions

of the period of the Reformation, and led the fashionable friends

of Madame de Sevignê to watch a woman being burned alive. So far

were gladiatorial combats from being one of the hardships imposed by

slavery, that we have repeated references in the early Imperial period

to the misconduct of Roman knights, and even Senators, who exhibited

themselves in the arena. A skilled gladiator risked his life, as does

a skilled toreador, and he enjoyed the same measure of popular favour;

there were statues of gladiators as well as of schoolmasters.

The tendency of the Empire was to break down the barriers between the

free man and the slave; as political power ceased to be the privilege

of a caste, and became the reward of recognized merit bestowed by

the head of the administration, the importance of free descent was

diminished; the spiteful remarks about freedmen and servile origin,

which we occasionally find in the Latin authors, were suggested by the

improved position of slaves and freedmen; they represent the impotent

malice of a caste, which saw that the sceptre was departing from

between its knees; the distinction was long preserved by literature,

for the boys of the Roman Empire, like the boys of England, were

brought up on the works of the great Athenians, who spoke of the

slave as the slave was spoken of when the free citizens in the most

liberal of Greek States were really an aristocracy of birth entrusted

with the conduct of affairs among a population by which they were far

outnumbered, and which included many men as wealthy as the freeborn

citizens, and no less enlightened.

It was largely through slavery that men of letters, men of science,

architects, engineers, sailors, and even soldiers, found their way from

all parts of the world into the executive services of the Empire. Rome

had become cosmopolitan without being aware of the fact, long before

the genius of Cæsar finally started her on an admittedly cosmopolitan

career.

Tiberius the Tyrant · 第 4 / 28 段