The history of ancient Roman has long been a favorite historical topic of mine. In many ways, the ancient Romans remind me of Americans, not merely with our similar form of government and legal system, but also a similar culture and way of thinking. Ancient Roman literature (of which I have read only some) reminds me much of American literature and, if you simply changed the names of people and places, I have thought it would be difficult at times to tell the difference. Their agricultural enterprises, family structure, and education are a few of the things that I find fascinating.
In this post, I am drawing from various sources but the bulk is quoting extensively from William Smith’s book Ancient Education (pub. 1955) as well as Education in Ancient Rome by Stanley Bonner (pub. 1977). I can’t recommend Smith’s book but Bonner’s is ok.
Roman Agriculture in the Republic
The early Romans were farmers. Though our imagination may go to disciplined professional Roman legions when we think of Romans today, that was far later and in the beginning they were soldiers out of necessity (although, discipline and semi-professionalism did come early on). As Smith writes in his book Ancient Education: “The Romans started out as practical farmers…and at heart the Romans remained farmers to the end.” Their humble agricultural heritage is witnessed even in the last names of some of their leading families – Flavius (bean), Cicero (chickpea), Porcius (pig).
The vestiges of this heritage remained long after the substance was gone. A particular example of a general trend can be found in the changing meaning of the Latin word villa. In early times, villa represented a simple farmstead but over time the meaning morphed into a luxurious country house, no longer foundationally defined by production. This change occurred slowly, corresponding with the arrival of Hellenism from Magna Grecia about 250-150 B.C. By the first century B.C., the average Roman had became soft in comparison to his ancestors and largely gave up agricultural pursuits in favor of the city and luxuries. As Varro wrote (1st cent. B.C.):
In these days practically all the heads of families have sneaked within the walls, abandoning the sickle and the plough, and would rather busy their hands in the theatre and in the circus than in the grain-fields and the vineyards… (Rerum Rusticarum, Preface to Bk. II)
While this change corresponded with the arrival of Greek culture, the spreading of foreign ideals is likely not the only reason for this seismic shift in society. Economics and growing foreign political influence also played a part. In the early Republic, much of Italy was devoting to growing grain and other staple crops. Overtime, however, this became economically infeasible and wheat began to be grown and imported more advantageously from North Africa and Egypt. Farm land was converted to pasture, since the return on investment from livestock was higher.
There was also another reason for the decline in agriculture. Two long wars with Carthage deeply affected Roman society. During the 2nd Punic war, Italy was ravaged by the Carthaginians for 16 years. Led by Hannibal, they killed or captured 120,000 Romans within the first three years of the war. Rome responded by lowering the draft age and enlisting criminals as well as those who did not own property (originally only landholders were eligible to serve in the Roman military). The social upheaval of this long war permanently upended Roman social fabric in unhealthy ways:
Roman farmers torn from their homes for years and demoralized by the camps were unable or unwilling to settle down into the quiet routine of agricultural life…. their farms passed into the hands of capitalists, and the rich lands of Italy fell back into pasture, and half-naked slaves tended herds of cattle” (Smith, p.230).
Grain farming was no longer profitable, and it had become the custom to import grain from Sicily and Africa. The new Rome that emerged from this horrible war centered around a nobility of wealth and was in a state of demoralization. Such a condition naturally caused the cultivation of grain to be less important than that of the vine, the olive, domestic vegetables, or the rearing of cattle. (Footnote by H. Ash, Loeb Classical Library Edition of Cato’s De Agricola, p6.).
The sad effect of this new social order, was deracination of the Roman farmer and destruction of much of the Roman middle class:
The one-time ubiquitous small farm disappeared and its owner joined the swelling city proletariat. The latter was further augmented by native urban craftsmen and artisans replaced by slaves, and by hordes of freedmen from the provinces” (Smith, p. 159).
The Roman Family
Another interesting aspect of Roman culture was their families. The Roman family, not the individual, was the basic unit of early Roman social structure. Rather than nuclear, it was extended patriarchal in form and essentially “a ‘miniature society’, embracing ‘the father [paterfamilias] and the mother, their house and land and property, their children, their married sons, their grandchildren by these sons, their daughters-in-law, their slaves and clients,’ and containing within itself ‘the functions of family, church, school, industry, and government’. Within this group the authority of the paterfamilias was, except as gradually checked by evolving tradition, unlimited” (Smith, p. 171).
Other cultures have had an extended patriarchal family form, but the extent to which the Romans took it, to almost be a society within a society, ruled by the paterfamilias, is unique throughout all of history. The Roman jurist Gaius wrote, “The power which we have over our children is peculiar to Roman citizens and is found in no other nation” (Bonner, p. 5)
Cicero paints a picture of the concept of paterfamilias aptly in his caricature of an Appius Claudius Caecus (builder of the Appian Way) in his closing years:
“He kept control over his five sturdy sons, his four daughters, all that great household and all those dependents, though he was both old and blind; for he did not idly succumb to old age, but kept his mind as taut as an well-strung bow. He wielded not merely authority, but absolute command (imperium) over his family; his slaves feared him, his children venerated him, all loved him; in that household ancestral custom and discipline held sway” (De Senectute)
There has been a lot of criticism, even during Roman times, of their family structure and how it interacted with the state. While the authority of the paterfamilias could be abused (and likely was from time to time), I don’t think it’s fair to assume that the average inclination of the Roman head of the family was throw his weight around. As Bonner notes, “it created an atmosphere in which the children grew up with a deep respect for their parents, and, until the decline set in, took it for granted, and without resentment, that they should do as they were told” (p. 6).
This unique family structure was accompanied in early Roman families by an admirable strength of character. In this respect, the Romans originally share much of the same original characteristics with their close neighbors, the Sabines. While the Romans degenerated as they became enervated with luxury and hubris, the Sabines did not and “retained for centuries their original characteristics, as many later writers testify. From the nature of their lives and environment, the Sabines had always been a hardy, self-disciplined people; ‘austere’, ‘dour’, ‘rigorous’ are some of the epithets which Roman writers constantly applied to them.” (Bonner, p. 3-4)
Family life was stable, especially so during the early Republic. Divorce among early Romans appears to have been rare. Plutarch records for us a man, Spurius Carvilius, who was noteworthy because he “was the first to divorce his wife”. While there is some confusion as to the exact person and date, most scholars believe he was Spurius Carvilius Maximum Ruga, who held consulship in 234 and 228 B.C. While, it was not the first divorce to occur in Rome, it was perhaps memorable in that it was the first “no fault” divorce. (According to Plutarch, divorce was originally only permitted for cases of adultery, use of magic or drugs to harm a child, or unpermitted duplication of the family’s property keys.)
By the first century AD, the tolerance of no-fault divorce had resulted in the general debasement of marriage from a high, sacred, human relationship into a casual commodity that could be dissolved by either party at whim. Marriage avoidance became more normal and childless unions had become common. Once the central reason for a Roman to marry, child bearing and rearing had inevitably became more and more separated from marriage and children were seen as a encumberance to one’s way of life.
In the early republic, the atmosphere created by this family unit was one of domestic-production, typically within an agricultural context:
“So long as peace prevailed, the Roman family remained united, devoting its energies to the common task. As the busy months came and went, practical parents found that a few extra pairs of hands were not to be despised, and so the older boys helped on the land, whilst their sisters helped in the home. The girls learnt to spin and weave, for the mistress of the household made the clothing for the family herself, and did not, as yet, delegate the duty to a farm-bailiff’s wife” (Bonner, p. 7).
I suspect that the true greatness of the Romans lay in their families and their unique social structure. I do not think it too far to say that as the Roman family failed, the mores of their society crumbled, and with it, ultimately, the destruction of the Republic.
Education
The other aspect of the early Romans that intrigues me is their education. How did this little band of farmers, shepherds with only limited resources become rulers of the western world? Being at the right place and in God’s time is certainly the correct answer but I think education was a contribution in no small way. Education was highly prized by Romans, especially that which could be applied to everyday life. The average Roman man was literate and could do simple arithmetic. Roman women were generally educated, too, though not as well.**
In our day, society sees education solely as development of the faculties of the mind and accumulation of factual knowledge. To the Romans, however, the Latin word educatio “referred not to schooling and intellectual progress but to the physical rearing of the child and his or her training in behavior” (Bonner). Thus, it was different from our current cultural construct of education. For Romans, education was primarily concerned with the formation of character.
While there may have been a school or two in Rome during early times, education remained primarily a family enterprise for the early and middle Republic. This was not by accident and Romans resisted the institutionalization of education in the hands of the state until the imperial period. Education for boys and girls for much of the early Republic focused on the basics – reading, writing, and arithmetic under the watchful eye and, apparently, often times the personal instruction of the paterfamilias himself.
It appears that only as the Republic began to enter the Hellenistic decline, did tutors outside a man’s household become common place. Prior to this, those who taught would typically only teach relatives or close friends. Even into the Empire, when public and private schools became the norm for the lower classes, the paterfamilias still felt enormous responsibility to see to it that his children received a decent education.
Interestingly, early on, the Roman education methods differed from the Greek educational model, which had different aims and different results. The Greeks focused their education efforts to train well-rounded citizens, whereas the Romans, “although not entirely oblivious to citizenship obligations, were primarily concerned with the more primitive concept of the disciplined member of the family….Roman boys long received their education chiefly in the family; Greek boys primarily in the community” (Smith, p. 183). So, essentially, the early Romans were homeschooled and the Greeks went to classical school.
This difference in training method was mirrored in curious cultural differences between the Greeks and Romans ideals. The Greek concept of the ideal man was a well-rounded intellectual who could philosophize, play music, and had practical skill in theater, and still lead troops into battle. It is not coincidence that Plato in his work, The Republic, places philosophers as the ruling class simply because he himself is a philosopher. In much sense, it seems that was the Greek ideal of a man. For instance, the Apostle Paul wrote that “the Greeks seek after wisdom” (1 Cor. 1:22). Luke commented on Paul’s visit to Athens that “For all the Athenians and strangers which were there spent their time in nothing else, but either to tell, or to hear some new thing (Acts 17:21). Their conceptions of intelligence and social worth were more rooted in community than family.
The Roman concept of the ideal man, at least at first, was different. The Roman ideal was much embodied by Horatius Cocles, the farmer-soldier who stood alone in 509 B.C. against the invading Etruscan army while his compatriots behind him chopped down the pile bridge over the Tiber river. After his two fellow countrymen retreat over the swaying bridge timbers, the Roman historian Livy writes (with possibly some embellishment):
“Then looking around at the Etruscan noblemen with savage defiant eyes, he first challenged them individually to combat, and then chided them as a group, saying they were slaves of haughty kings, and having lost their own freedom, had come to undermine the freedom of others.”
It is historically uncertain whether Horatius even survived that day or lived disabled and blind in one eye. Notwithstanding, in a nutshell Horatius’ valor was what the Romans termed pietas – unflinching duty and full devotion to their family, friends, country, and gods. The ideal Roman was someone who personified pietas and exuded it through the thick and thin of life. Roman education was molded to support inculcation of this virtue.
Roman Character Pitfalls
While the Romans were an amazing people, I think, because of their greatness, a short word of their peculiar shortcomings is in order. Our founding fathers were both aware of their genius and also their faults. In a letter to Thomas Jefferson discussing the Romans, John Adams wrote in December 1819:
[I] never could discover that they possessed much Virtue, or real Liberty—their Patricians were in general griping Usurers and Tyrannical Creditors in all ages— Pride, Strength and Courage were all the Virtues that composed their National Characters.
While he is broad-brushing, Adams hints at two of the bad things I’ve noticed about the Romans, namely, their hubris and emphasis on strength as almost an end in itself. Their emphasis on strength gives way to a general coldness perserved in history, especially their writings, that gives me pause at times. For example, Cato the Elder was said to treat his family no different from his household slaves. Pliny once severely remarked that his wife’s near brush with death during pregnancy ‘served her right’ for not heeding the doctor’s advice as closely as she should have. While these are late Republic and early empire examples, there is unfortunately no indication to believe that the early Republic was significantly different and there are more than sufficient records to build a case that these were not isolated incidences; although, perhaps not the main mode of life. It is probably fair to say that unhealthy pride and self-centered strength were perhaps national vices that hollowed out their character.
In comparison to the disheartening coldness and austerity of the Romans, the Bible reads much warmer while presenting a picture of strength and perfect equity of character. And indeed, in a way, it reads as it should because it was written by God for his own special people – a people all glorious within (Ps. 45:13). There is a sweetness and a care of the little things (“there is little Benjamin with their ruler…” Ps. 68:27) that is mostly lacking in Roman thought. There is a warm glow of delight in duty in the Bible (“I have longed for thy salvation O Lord; and thy law is my delight” Ps. 119:174) whereas the Romans had much a spirit of short-sighted hubris and ancestral pride driving their sense of duty. The Bible conveys a clear sense of eternal hope and trust in the goodness of God (“my flesh also shall rest in hope for thou wilt not leave my soul in hell….” Ps. 16:1,9-10) whereas many surviving Roman tombstone epitaphs contain pathetic expressions of hoplessness and fatalism.
While I admire the early Romans much for their excellent reminder of how people can engage with the soil, live as families, and educate their children, it is wise to be aware of their shortcomings as well. Also, it makes me more admire and be thankful for God and the perfect guidance for life found in the Bible. In contrast to the Roman way, his word speaks of true strength, warmth, sweetness, and humility. You may have to look for it at times, but even in the passages of judgement and destruction it is there.
Behold, the days come, saith the LORD that I will raise unto David a righteous Branch….and this is his name whereby he shall be called, The LORD Our Righteousness.
Jer. 23:5-6
*The Pastoral State by Thomas Cole, 1834, from the Course of Empire series.
**Based on the wealth and shear variety of surviving records geared towards common people (election slogan graffiti, grave inscriptions, personal letters, contracts, records, etc), I am inclined more to agree with those who put the literacy rate of Romans upwards of 80% rather than those who estimate it at a mere 10-15%. I haven’t seen any definitive sources either way, however.
